Their second Friday started much the same as any other day, with roll call and Currahee. In two weeks, the men of Easy had already improved their time. Alice stayed as calm as she could under the jeers of Sobel, not eager for a repeat of that first Monday.

At breakfast, she ate with her company. After word got around about the injuries she'd sustained by the men of a different company, they'd slowly let her back into their ranks. She'd quickly come to like George, Joe Toye, and Bill the most. They talked to her more than the others. But at breakfast that morning, they had been given latrine duty instead.

The mess worker dropped two cold pancakes, some eggs, and a single strip of bacon onto her tray. With a small smile, she also grabbed a mug of coffee. Part of her considered sitting with the Officers'. She'd seen Nix, Dick, and Speirs all at a table already. But with a deep breath, she walked towards the table part of Easy Company typically sat at.

"May I sit?" She recognized a couple of the men as being from her Second Platoon. But the others must've been First or Third.

Malarkey nodded, his face full of food. He scooted to the left to give her an empty seat on the end. The man now across from her watched her carefully. He had dark eyes and equally dark hair, with an extremely fair complexion.

"Hey, Roe, she's French," added Malarkey. "Y'know, like you."

Alice grinned. "Vous êtes français? Je m'appelle Alice. Et vous?"

"Eugene Roe." When he noticed the whole table had turned to listen to them speaking French, he blushed and switched to English. "I'm Cajun, from Louisiana. Not from France."

Her enthusiasm died slightly, but she nodded with a smile. "Ah, well. We cannot all be from France." She winked at him.

"This is Carwood Lipton," Malarkey added, pointing to the man across from himself.

"Nice to formally meet you." Lipton extended a hand and she shook it.

"Then Spina, Christenson, O'Hara, Powers, and Popeye are the ones chatting away down there with Liebgott," finished Malarkey. He took another bite. "I heard we're doing close combat training today."

And they did. When breakfast ended, Alice walked back near Malarkey and Liebgott to their barracks. At this point she didn't even notice the occasional cat call from Fox Company. Suddenly Private Vest walked up to them.

"Liebgott, J." He handed a letter over to the man. "Malarkey, D. Klein, A."

They each took their mail. None of them waited for the barracks to open them. Alice felt a tingle of fear down her spine as she read the address. The letter came from one of the fake addresses her Maquis cell had used for passing messages. She tore it open quickly and pulled out a single paged letter. It had been written in French, scrawled in a choppy cursive.

"Klein,

"We regret to inform you that your brother Robert was captured by the Gestapo not long ago. He was executed almost immediately. We attempted to get your family into hiding, but we failed. Two days later they took your parents and sister away. We have lost contact with them. They were arrested for being Jewish, Hopefully we can still locate them before the Nazis do whatever it is they've been doing.

"Robert died honorably. He was a point of contact on a rescue mission for a Jewish family. The family made it safely to their checkpoint but he did not. He knew the risks when you two signed up. I'm sorry for your loss.

Vive la résistance,

Blanche"

She could feel her tears forming. She couldn't afford this. No matter how much she wanted to grieve, she had a job. As she tried to walk forward, she stumbled briefly. Her world spun.

"Alice?"

Her breath came in ragged gasps. She'd failed them. If she'd been back home, maybe she could've saved Robert. If they hadn't captured him, Bernadette wouldn't be a prisoner. Again, she lost a brother to her own stupidity.

"Alice? You alright?"

She realized Liebgott and Malarkey were speaking to her. Her heart beat so fast she swore they'd be able to hear it. Alright? Was she alright?

"Yes. Yes I'm fine."

Liebgott looked at her curiously. "What was in that letter?"

"Nothing." She walked forward to the door of their barracks and flung it open. Her face drained of color as she found it full. Almost everyone laughed and chatted as they changed into PT gear.

Claustrophobia had only been a problem a few times for her. But as the world crashed down around her, she didn't want to deal with twenty nosey men. She could feel Liebgott and Malarkey staring after her as she ducked behind her curtain to change.

She had no brothers now. All she had were a few dozen loud, brash men training to be paratroopers who barely tolerated her presence. The urge to hit someone or something only increased as she tried to suppress it. She'd always been the one to lecture Robert on controlling his anger and hatred, to use it as a motivator and not let it be in control. But at that moment all she wanted to do was go back to France and kill every last Nazi officer she could find.

"Training Field D, five minutes Second Platoon."

She heard Dick's orders as she hid herself behind the changing curtain. Her eyes burned as she couldn't stop a few tears. With a hand over her mouth, she tried to steady herself against the corner wall.

Before long, most of the noise had died down. Alice wiped her face on her white PT shirt. With a deep breath, she ducked back into the room and found George and Liebgott waiting for her, talking quietly.

"Shit, Alice, you look like you're gonna fall over any second." George cracked a smile. "Did you finally fall in love with me?"

"What was in the letter?"

Alice glared at Liebgott. But she didn't respond, tucking the letter into her pillow and hurrying out the door. "The contents of the letter don't matter to you."

"If it matters to you, it does," George argued. He hurried down the two steps onto the gravel path. He sent her a quick wink as she turned to him.

They didn't say anything else. Training Field D sat flat and grassy in front of them. To the right, they saw Dog Company lined up in pairs.

All three Platoons for Easy Company were present. Winters and Nixon stood together, neither talking. The former glanced at his watch. He nodded.

"Right, Easy Company listen up. Today we're going to see what we each know in hand to hand close combat. I want everyone to pair off and find some open space. When you've paired off, you can have a go at each other. But! I don't want any deaths today, that's too much paperwork."

The whole group chuckled as his statement. Then they began to pair off. Alice had half a mind to ask Liebgott so she could punch him in the face as a thank you for telling George about the letter. But as people paired and she stood alone, she actually cracked a smile when Nixon came over.

"Think they're all scared of you?" He joked.

Alice shrugged. "Clearly you aren't."

"I never said that. Worse things have been done to my ego, though."

She huffed. "I don't fight fair."

Nixon chuckled and stood back. They carved out a little circle and stood opposite each other. "I hope you don't think less of me for being willing to hit a girl."

"Trust me, I don't mind right now."

She didn't wait for a response. Alice flew at him and ducked under his arm. They tussled for a moment, neither managing to land any meaningful hits. Alice backed up.

Nixon watched her carefully. "So you heard from home."

Her expression changed instantly. Nixon approached her first this time. She leaned backwards to dodge a hit before attacking. He managed to grab her, restraining her. It took a moment of struggle, but she landed a kick in between his legs and shoved him off. As he stood stunned for a moment, she seethed.

"How the hell do you know about my letter."

Laughing and coughing at the same time, he shook his head. "I know things. That's what I do." He straightened up and lashed out before she could reply. "They want me in Intelligence for a reason."

Alice ducked away from him and took a moment to glare, backing up. She didn't even notice the sweat dripping off her in waves, staining the front of her shirt, a combination of exercise and the oppressive wet heat of Georgia.

"You might try using your anger, not letting it use you," Nixon suggested as he managed to grab her again.

Alice threw him off violently, using her head to smash his nose. With as hard a swing as she could muster, she hit him across the jaw. She heaved in deep breaths. "I used to say that to Robert. Now he is dead."

He clutched at his bleeding nose, cursing. They stood apart. He nodded. "So that's what it said."

Dick walked over and eyed them in concern. The nearby pairs had stopped what they were doing to watch. As Dick approached, they turned back to their own fights.

"I thought I said not to kill anyone," he said dryly.

Nixon heaved a laugh, still clutching at his nose. With a glare, Alice tried to catch her own breath. Sharp, nasty bruises were already forming on her arms where Nixon had managed to restrain her twice.

"She looked like she needed to beat someone up. I gave it a shot." He winked at Alice. "She's very thorough. Aims below the belt. It was fun."

"Fuck off."

Nixon laughed. "We'll make an American out of you yet. Dick, I'm fine. She's gonna look worse."

Dick just hummed in disbelief and walked away to check on the other sparring pairs. With a sigh, Alice walked over and placed a hand on Nixon's face to check where she'd punched him in the jaw.

"I'm sorry about your face."

"I'm sorry about your brother."

She huffed in agreement. Her tears threatened to spill over again. With a trembling breath, she shrugged. "We knew the risks. A free France and a free Germany are worth dying for. We are already dead, really. Occupied France. If we do not fight, we stay dead. If we fight, there's a chance we come out victorious."

"But?"

"My little sister and my parents did not sign up for any of this. And now they've been convicted of Judaism, and will be dealt with. Whatever that means."

"Jesus Christ." He sighed. "They got everyone?"

"Everyone but me."

After the sparring ended, Dick and Nixon both demonstrated a few key proper techniques for close combat. Alice ended up paired with him again for slow motion practice, but they didn't speak much. Alice wasn't in the mood.