It took a full day before all of Easy Company knew she was back. Johnny had good fun bugging her about getting shot, and once Bill got wind of his antics, they went on for quite awhile. After dinner, quite a bit of Third Platoon and most of Second were assigned to one of the Island's borders. Five men from First had been sent on patrol including Liebgott and Alley. When Alice walked back into the barn after taking a stroll, she found it quite subdued.

At the far table, Dick sat with George, neither speaking. George had gotten ahold of crackers of some sort and muched away next to his radio. At the table in the center, Dukeman and Talbert had just finished a card game. A handful of other men meandered about, most from First.

Alice spotted Babe Heffron along the wall, sitting quietly and sipping at coffee. She hadn't spoken much to him, as she'd gotten wounded so close to when they'd jumped into Holland. But Bill liked the kid, so she wanted to make an effort to get to know him. Making her way over, Alice took off her helmet and smiled down at him.

"Lieutenant?" He looked up at her in mild confusion.

Alice smiled. "Just Alice."

She gestured next to him. When he shrugged and shook his head, she took up the spot to his right. His red hair looked more brown from dirt. She sent him a small smile.

"Babe." She took a deep breath and nodded. "Interesting nickname."

He let out a small laugh. "Yeah, ain't it."

"So, how'd you get it?""

Babe smiled and shook his head. "I ain't told any body yet. So unless it's an order?"

Alice laughed at him. "No, not an order." She pulled a ration bar out of her pocket and set to work on it. Between bites she just smirked again and shook her head. "Come on, why Babe?"

He started laughing at her. "Well, fine, but if I tell ya' you've gotta keep it to yourself."

"Deal."

Babe took a deep breath. A smile crept on his face. "Right, ok. So when I was a baby, my brother didn't know how 'ta say baby. So he thought my name was Babe. It stuck."

With a small laugh, Alice shook her head. "That's cute. I like it."

He scoffed. "Hey! Don't you be spreadin' that." Babe glared at her but then added a quick, "Lieutenant."

Alice shook her head with a grin. Her laughter wouldn't stop as she started snickering into the darkness of the barn. "Babe! I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good."

Suddenly the doors flew open. Chaos erupted in the barn as someone started shouting. Alice and Babe both scrambled up. Between Lesniewski and Liebgott, Alley dangled on the edge of consciousness. Blood streamed down his face and bare chest. As Lipton, Dick, and the other men in the barn rushed around him, Boyle shot off to find Doc Roe.

Alice listened to Liebgott, who she noticed was bleeding from the neck, explain it had happened at the crossroads of the dike, she watched Dick Winters. She could all but see him work. His thinking stopped, however, when Lesniewski started blaming Liebgott. Alice wasn't at all surprised to see Liebgott snap back at him, given that Moe Alley was maybe Liebgott's best friend in the company.

"Lesniewski," Dick said, "send for Lieutenant Welsh!"

With a last glance at Liebgott, the man did as he was ordered. With that out of the way, Dick turned to Lipton. "Assemble me a squad."

As he did so, calling for First Squad to grab weapons and ammo, Gene rushed in. The men backed away to give him room. As Gene began to talk to Alley slowly and with care, simultaneously giving instructions to the men staying behind, Alice moved over to Dick.

"Stay here, wait for Harry," he told her. "When he gets back, you two assemble another squad. I'll have Luz contact you with further instructions."

"Right." She nodded at him. "Good luck."

Dick took a breath and nodded back at her. As the men finished up grabbing weapons and ammunition, Dick joined Lipton and Talbert. Alice watched them go. As the doors of the barn swung closed behind them, she turned to where Gene, Bull, and Trigger himself helped the injured Alley.

'Babe!" Alice called. When he came over she nodded. "Go find Second Platoon, let them know we're sending men to the crossroads and may need help." She hurried back over to the table. "Anything I can do," Alice asked Gene.

Gene shook his head and looked around. "Don't aggravate your arm, and that'll be help enough."

Alice stopped everything and glared at him. It took a moment before Gene met her gaze. With a sigh he shook his head. "Keep using the sulfa. But I'm serious."

"Keep off your leg then," she snapped back.

She didn't miss the look shared between Bull and Gene.

After yelling at him, Alice didn't waste any time in picking up the sulfa pack that Liebgott had abandoned in favor of joining the assault squad. Taking Alley's hand, she smiled down at him. "Hey Alley."

"Hey Alice," he mumbled.

"You don't look so bad," she assured him. "Not as bad as we all did after Sobel's night marches. Or that time when you ran Currahee on a full stomach."

A ghost of a smile passed Alley's blood-covered lips. He started blinking, trying to stay awake. "Hah, fuck Sobel."

Alice could stop her quiet laugh. She rubbed the back of his hand. While Gene set to work patching him up, she just finished the sulfa and smiled at him. "Trust me, Alley. You're gonna be fine, ok?"

"M'k."

As he closed his eyes, Alice glanced up at Gene. He assured her it was from the morphine, nothing else. The blood flow began to slow as bandages were tied and the easiest to reach shrapnel removed.

"Bull, go find me a litter," he ordered.

The man ran off and Gene finished inspecting Alley. Standing away from the bloody table, Alice just stood alone. Before long, Bull and Gene had hoisted Alley onto a litter and taken him off to Battalion Aid.

The barn stood eerily silent. Pretty much every man in the barn had been assembled for the squad. Anyone who hadn't, had gone to find the rest of First Platoon. Alice was about ready to scream in frustration at the silence. Suddenly something warm, wet, and rough licked at her hand.

She jumped in fright. Next to her, Trigger stood quietly. As her heart rate returned to normal, she forced a tiny smile. Alice knelt next to him. "Hey buddy." She rubbed behind his ears. "Aren't you just so sweet. Oh my goodness, aren't you."

A door crashed open. Footsteps echoed through the barn. Alice looked up.

"How's Alley?" Harry Welsh stormed in. Perconte and Lesniewski hurried after him. He looked at the blood all over her hands.

Alice shrugged, standing up from beside Trigger. "Gene and Bull took him to Battalion Aid. For a grenade spread, it actually didn't look that bad."

He nodded. "Lesniewski, I want you to track down Lieutenant Peacock. Have him organize the rest of First," Harry said.

"Right."

As Lesniewski rushed out of the barn, Harry turned to Alice. "How long ago did Dick leave?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe?"

"Right. Until we hear from him we sit tight." Harry looked behind him. "Perconte?"

"Sir?"

"Stay on that radio like your life depends on it. Let me know as soon as Captain Winters calls."

"Yes, sir."

The barn quieted again. Only their heavy breathing and the panting of Trigger at their feet made any noise. The radio stayed eerily silent. Before long, Perconte took up a spot at a table, leaving Harry and Alice standing by themselves, both with their arms crossed.

"How's your arm?" Harry asked after a few minutes. "Hopefully didn't hurt it further?"

Alice scoffed in disbelief. "Unbelievable. Is everyone going to be overly concerned with my recovery? I'll let someone know if it gets worse!"

"Sorry," Harry muttered. But then he straightened up and lowered his voice. "Several people have been concerned over you recently."

"Why?"

Harry looked at her closely, almost warily. He didn't know how much to say in that moment. Finally he sighed. Pulling his canteen out, he took a drink. "Listen. I don't know when exactly, but you started acting weird. Before you yell at me!" He held up his hands. "People are just concerned about you."

"Ridiculous," she scoffed. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you?" He looked at her closely, not dropping his eye contact. When she looked away he shrugged. "Did you ever open those last three letters? Because it seems to me everything leads back to them."

Her heart stopped for a moment, breath catching in her throat. She hadn't opened them. But they sat in one of her breast pockets, ready to be read. "No, I haven't. But, if it'll make you feel better," she snapped, "I promise to let someone know if there's something I can't handle."

"That's all we ask. You don't have to do this alone, that's why the army is made up of groups of people: squads, platoons, companies, battalions. No one fights any of this by themselves."

She watched him carefully. "Poetic."

He started snickering. Taking another drink of his canteen, Harry looked back at where Perconte sat with his radio. "Anything?"

"Nothin', sir."

The doors flew open again. Peacock and a dozen men came inside, guns and ammunition ready. Harry called Peacock over and explained the situation, or what they knew of it at least.

"When Captain Winters calls, he may need reinforcements," Harry said.

Perconte interrupted him. "Sir! Captain Winters for you!"

Harry hurried over. When Perconte told the other end of the radio to expect Lieutenant Welsh, he then took the phone. Alice, Peacock, and all the enlisted watched him closely. It didn't take long for him to hang up the phone.

"Lieutenant Peacock, take the balance of First and a machine gun squad from Fox's reserves. Head to the crossroads by the dike, across the road. Captain Winters will be waiting for you." Harry pointed to Peacock and the rest of the men. "Perconte, call Fox's first platoon, let them know to supply an M.G. squad."

"Sir."

The men sprang into action immediately. With Perconte's call going through, the rest of the men of First Platoon hurried off after Peacock, Perconte included. Harry and Alice were once again left in the CP with Trigger.

"Hell of a first day back, Alice," muttered Harry a few moments later. He shot her a tight smile. "How is that arm doing?"

"It's fine. Hurts, a little," she finally admitted.

"War is hell," he said.

She couldn't help but laugh a little at the tiny smirk he sent her way. Settling on one of the table's benches, she continued to scratch at Trigger's ears. The dog started panting in pleasure. Harry crouched down on the dog's other side.

"This is Tab's dog, right? What is he calling it?"

"Trigger."

Harry chuckled. "Trigger, eh. Cute."

"That's what I said, and Tab nearly bit my head off for it!"

As Trigger turned to Harry and started licking his face, the man just smiled. He pushed him off weakly. "Too bad dogs can't make jumps."

With a hum in agreement, Alice started moving her arm, trying to get the muscle to work more. She gritted her teeth. The pain increased for a bit as she worked at it. "How long until dawn?"

"Couple hours."

Alice sighed. She looked from Trigger to Harry. He watched her carefully. With a deep sigh, she shrugged. "Maybe I should open those letters."

Harry didn't respond. But every move she made, she could feel him watching, observing. Making up her mind, she reached into one of the oversized pockets of her paratrooper coat. Six letters came out, three open, three unopened. Part of her wished Harry could read German and read them for her. But he couldn't.

She set the three opened ones on the table behind her. With a quick rub of Trigger's head, she sighed. Alice opened the next one.

"Dear Addy,

Mila and I, the girl who's in here with us, pass the time by talking about our homes sometimes. I don't really remember much about Germany. I was only there a year. I miss Arnhem, though. And I miss when you and Bernadette and even Robert and Marc would come see us. I miss the farm, with all the cows and sheep. I miss the sky, too. In here we have one tiny little window near the top of the cellar. Sometimes Mila and I take turns looking out, especially if it's raining.

I hope you're alright. You and Bernadette, especially.

Love,

Elsa."

The letter had been dated March 1944.

Alice had to remind herself to breathe. Despite knowing that Harry watched her like a hawk, or a concerned mother hen, she just folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope. It joined the other opened ones on the table. The next one opened easily.

"Dear Addy,

I hate him. I know I shouldn't hate people, but I hate the Führer. Why does Hitler want us dead? What did we ever do? We are as German as he is, moreso even! I wish I could shoot him, end this, so we wouldn't have to hide in this stupid little cellar.

But I know I shouldn't hate people. Mama says it's against what God wants. Papa stays quiet about it, but I think he agrees with me. Tomas and James, do. But for Mama's sake, we won't leave. I just wish I could protect her some other way than hiding.

Love,

Elsa"

It read May 1944

She didn't even wait to think before opening the final letter. Her chest hurt as she cut through the envelope fold with her thumb as best she could. All her focus turned to the German script.

"Dear Addy,

I think this might be it. I'm not really scared any more. Honestly, I'd like to think that in death at least there will be a release from this hiding place. Since the Allies landed in Normandy, the Germans have increased their retaliation against resistance. I heard they started executing hundreds of people, some resistance and some not. There's even been talk of the Germans starting to round up non-jews for the camps.

Since I haven't heard from you, I must assume you met a worse fate than us. I'll try to write to you when I can, out of hope, but our host said he can't risk sending mail anymore. But maybe, if you are alive, you'll get to see a free France.

With love,

Elsa Klein"

April 21, 1944.

The room spun. Alice stared down at the handwriting for a while, not daring to fold the letter up. She wanted nothing more than to cry, to sob for her family and the families of everyone the Nazis were targeting. A deep anger mixed with despair, though, as the letter didn't explain what had happened to her. She was almost certainly dead, or working in one of those labor camps for the war effort. But maybe, maybe she'd just stopped sending letters for fear of her own safety. Suddenly Alice didn't know what was worse: living in fear of opening the letters, or living with the knowledge that she'd never know the answers she wanted.

"Well," she said. Alice cleared her throat, putting the third letter back in it's envelope. She stashed all six away. "At least they're open."

Harry watched her closely. He went to speak, but thought better of it. Instead he took a flask from his breast pocket and passed it over. She took it without a word.