Catch Her If You Can | Band of Brothers

I. Camp Toccoa, Georgia. Mid-October 1942

POV: Georgia Fenley

God, I need a fucking cigarette. Georgia Fenley had been waiting outside of Colonel Sink's office all of five minutes, and she already wanted to run. The types of men who hung around the regimental HQ offices reminded her too much of her father. Fucking bastard . She could smell the whisky and cigars in the air. It made her cringe.

Why do people drink whisky anyway? Cognac's better. She could practically hear Lew lecturing her on the virtues of Vat 69. But that was a conversation for later. And his friend probably wouldn't appreciate knowing that a twenty-two year old lady already favored 250 dollar French brandy over an equally expensive blended whisky. Lew would have a hell of a time explaining that one away. Sometimes she wondered about that tall redhead. He intrigued her; he didn't seem like as much of an easy mark as most other officers did.

"Lieutenant Fenley?"

She looked up. It was Major Horton.

Georgia stood, smoothing her dress uniform in the process, and saluted. "Major Horton, sir." He returned her salute, then opened the door for her. "Thank you sir." Upon entry, she saluted Colonel Sink and Major Strayer.

"Oh, none of that Georgia.No need for such formalities in private. Have a seat." Colonel Sink poured three glasses of whisky, offering two to Strayer and Horton and keeping one for himself. None for me of course. The good colonel wouldn't want to corrupt his favorite company S-2. Georgia sat in one of the armchairs and crossed her legs at the knees. God bless army slacks.

Her eyebrows raised a bit. "Might I ask what this is about, gentlemen?"

"Well," Major Horton began, "I'll be frank with you Lieutenant. You've got a better performance record than most of the men under your command in Dog Company - you're an excellent platoon leader, and you're one hell of an intelligence officer."

Georgia examined the men in the room with a look that told them she already knew why she'd been called here. After all, dear old Dad did always say I was too damn smart for my own good. "Thank you sir."

Colonel Sink cleared his throat after taking another sip of his drink. "Georgia, we'd like you to become 2nd Battalion's S-2. You're exactly the kind of officer we need in combat. With all due respect, your talents are wasted at the company level."

Georgia let her face break into an appropriate smile. "Thank you sirs. I'm honored that you all trust me with this responsibility."

Now it was Strayer's turn to speak. "We know you won't let us down, Captain Fenley."

Her eyes widened. I definitely didn't see that one coming, but who the hell am I to complain? "Sir?"

Colonel Sink stood, as did the other two men. Georgia rose from the armchair as he rounded his desk, and then she saw it. A captain's insignia, it's silver polish catching the light from its place in Sink's right hand. He raised his hand and asked, "May I?"

Georgia replied politely, "Certainly sir." She pulled her overseas cap out from her belt and handed it to Colonel Sink. He removed her first lieutenant's bar and replaced it with her shiny new captain's bars. He handed it back to her along with a collar stud for her ODs. Then, he repeated the process with her shoulder insignia. Finished at last, Colonel Sink stepped back and regarded her with pride.

"Now, you go on and pack up your gear, then stop back here around 17:00 and we'll get you a nice room near Battalion HQ." Sink said.

"Yes sir." Georgia said. She nodded to the men, then turned on her heel and walked out of the room. Look at me now, Dad. Your darling girl's a captain in the Airborne Infantry. God, Andrew Fenley would have a fit if he saw his daughter in trousers, let alone firing a gun. Then again, that was kind of the point of all this.