Toy Soldier » Band of Brothers

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝟹

𝙹𝚄𝙻𝚈 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟸

Tommy had been assigned to Easy Company on Monday and by Friday he had already been forced to dig and refill three fox-holes, march around the parade ground in full field pack for several hours and had his weekend pass revoked. Four times.

It was after dinner, and Tommy was reclining in is bunk, sketching the group of five guys: Joe Liebgott, Bill Guarnere, Bull Randleman, Joe Toye, and Johnny Martin, playing blackjack. They had invited him to play, but Tommy had refused, citing his cognitive threshold having been breached after being forced to deal with Sobels bullshit for a whole week. They couldn't argue with that.

He had just started shading in the blank sketch when Lieutenant Winters came through the door. Tommy had expected for him to call for lights out, but instead he ordered everyone to stand at attention.

"Outside in 2 minutes, full pack, in PT formation. Make sure to bring full canteens. Move out!"

Two minutes later the entirety of Easy Company stood in PT formation in front of their barracks, rubbing their eyes and trying to wake themselves up. They were quickly briefed as to what they were about to slog through, and when Winters told them that they were not allowed to drink or smoke or talk throughout the entirety of the twelve mile forced march, Tommy scowled.

It seemed ridiculous to him, but still his trudged along in frustrated silence, as everyone fell into step around him. They were about a third through the march, at least by Tommy's estimations, when Bull Randleman, who was marching alongside Geroge Luz at the front of Tommy's cluster, spoke up.

"I'm gonna say something." He mumbled to Luz.

"To who?" Luz scoffed.

"Lieutenant Winters!" Bull called to the officer who fell into step with the front line of the group.

"What is it?"

"Permission to speak, sir."

"Permission granted."

"Sir, we've got nine companies, sir." Bull started.

"That we do."

"Why are we the only one marching every Friday night, 12 miles, full pack, in the pitch dark?"

"Why do you think, Private Randleman?"

"Lieutenant Sobel hates us, sir."

Winters slowed his pace, looking out onto the despondent faced of the marching soldiers, "Lieutenant Sobel does not hate Easy Company, Private. Randleman. He just hates you."

Chuckles flitted through the half conscious group, though they never stopped their marching.

"Thank you, Sir." Bull drawled with a light smile.

"He hates him back!" Tommy called quietly from where he was marching, enjoying the wave of chuckles that swept through the despondent group.

"He hates you most, Reller." Joe Toye deadpanned, slapping Tommy's shoulder from behind him.

Once everyone settled down, they fell back into the silent, steady walk, punctuated by synchronised footfalls. Tommy had quickly and completely fallen into his own blank mind, clouded by thoughts of a warm, albeit lumpy, cot and a few hours fulfilling, deep sleep.

He's broken out of his reverie by the sound of retching to his right.

"Psst." he hissed at Christenson who looked two seconds away from collapsing. His skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor and beads of sweat coupled on his temple, "Christenson!"