Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

31: What is Decreed

"Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe;
What is decreed must be, and be this so."
- William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

-

It takes a while for the troop trucks to fill up, especially seeing as we're some of the first on them. Tom makes sure I'm tucked between him and the front wall, and I sit with my knees drawn up to my chest, staring at my hands in my lap as I listen to the sounds of the men filing in around us.

I daren't risk a glance up until I'm ready to face the questioning, pitying stares, so whilst I work up the courage I have to content myself with listening and trying to gauge from voices who's sitting around us.

"Hey! Gene!" the man sitting opposite me calls. It's only then that I look up.

The man is definitely unfamiliar to me, presumably a replacement, but he sends me a warm smile anyway when he catches me looking at him. He has a medic band strapped around his left bicep just like Gene always does but he wears a knitted hat as opposed to a helmet.

"Ralph Spina," he introduces himself, and holds out a hand for me to shake.

I smile a little bit and shake it just as Gene sits down beside him. "Juliette Chevalier."

He chuckles to himself. "Well, that's a French name if I ever heard one."

"That's because I'm French."

"You sound British."

This makes me laugh just a bit. "I moved to London when I was eleven."

"Ah," he says, nodding. "So, how old are ya?" When I furrow my eyebrows at the absurdity of the question he laughs. "You're the girl we sang happy birthday to, right?"

"Oh!" I smile slightly again, just like I did upon first hearing about this incident. "Yeah, that was me. I'm twenty-three."

"Happy late-birthday," he tells me, which makes me smile again. I decide then that I rather like him.

"Thank you."

He shoots me a grin and then slings an arm over Gene's shoulders. "I been lookin' after Gene for ya. Keepin' 'im out of trouble."

Gene rolls his eyes but a smile so desperately wants to draw up his lips.

Tom laughs. "As I recall it was actually the other way around."

Before they can bicker, I cut in, "Either way, at least he had someone looking out for him. Always looking after everyone else but never after himself." When Gene meets my eyes I actually do smile because he's already smiling back at me.

"Got that right," Spina agrees through a chuckle. He draws out a pack of cigarettes and hands one to Gene before taking one for himself. "Hey, d'ya want one?" he asks upon second-thought, offering it to me.

"No, thank you," I reply.

"She doesn't smoke," Tom adds. I roll my eyes; always so protective.

When we start driving I'm content simply to watch the scenery. I'm not sure how far we are from Berlin but the thought we'll be getting farther sets me a little bit more at ease; ideally I just want to get out of Germany but for now this will do. I'm just glad to be with the boys and the Americans - just that is more than I deserve, really.

The German countryside passes us by in a blur of green, a patchwork of different shades and different textured fields. The sun beating down on my head gets hot but I don't dare roll my sleeves up. I end up tucking my legs up underneath me and turning in my seat to lean on the railing behind me, leaning into the wind.