Humanity of the Broken [ Band of Brothers ] 2

ONE

B O O K   T W O

Chapter One

December 17, 1944

Camp de Châlons, Mourmelon-le-Grand, France

The list of things that Alice wouldn't give up in order to acquire warmer clothes kept shrinking by the hour. She'd gladly trade her civilian dress for a hat, or her Mary Janes for gloves. She'd even give up a carton of smokes for more socks.

Well, maybe not that. Not yet, at least.

The sky had clouded over sometime around noon. For maybe the first time ever, Alice found herself wishing for Camp Toccoa. Camp Toccoa had been warm, sometimes too warm. But Mourmelon-le-Grand in mid December had biting wind and a fierce cold that found Alice no matter how many layers of summer clothing she covered herself with.

The clouds had started raining sometime around dinner. The rain came more as a mist than anything else, not enough to drive the companies indoors, but enough to make everyone totally and completely miserable. Why she had decided it necessary to watch Easy Company outside, Alice didn't know. Some twisted sense of solidarity, perhaps.

At least she had found an overhang for some small amount of shelter. Why Lieutenant Dike had decided to make Easy Company fall into formation before letting them eat, she didn't know. She had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the fact that she'd managed to acquire passes for three of his NCOs without asking his permission.

As another gust of wind threw frozen droplets of rain into her bare cheeks, Alice groaned. This was not the way to make friends with the enlisted, Foxhole Norman. Even Babe Heffron, usually fairly mild tempered unless egged on by fellow Philly, Bill, had a gaze that could've killed Dike.

The one bit of fun that was to be had by standing outside in the freezing rain waiting for Easy Company was in fact watching the various expressions of her friends. Bill Guarnere's jaw had clenched so hard, it became a right angle. She also noticed him favoring his right leg. The weather could not have been helping his recovery. Alice added this to the list of grievances she held against Norman Dike.

Skip Muck's expression had become so straight, it almost made her laugh. She'd known him long enough to be able to predict the snarky internal dialogue he likely had. He and George had been the driving force behind spreading the moniker Foxhole Norman. His disdain for the man was hardly unknown.

And perhaps her favorite of all, George Luz's look of pure, unadulterated disdain, which he clearly only half tried to hide, touched something in her soul. She knew that look. That was the look they'd all had for Sobel by the time they'd gotten to Aldbourne: less anger, more complete and utter disgust. Poor George had to stand in the biting, wet cold while hauling around a forty pound radio. If anyone had a right to be furious, it was him.