March 4, 1945
Camp de Châlons, Mourmelon-le-Grand, France

Upon their triumphant and yet subdued return to Mourmelon, the Second Battalion and the rest of the 101st Airborne Division slept for almost a week. New ODs and dress uniforms were issued. The men got laundry done and made themselves more presentable. They shaved and cleaned themselves up, and then they just slept. And when they weren't sleeping, they were eating.

Alice spent her time doing exactly the same. She didn't see anyone other than at mealtimes for days. Half her time she spent taking warm baths and showers and half her time she slept or read books. Alice stayed in her room as much as possible. For the first time in nearly three months, she had a heated bedroom with its own bathroom. For the first time in nearly three months, she could truly rest.

Forty-eight hour passes were given to the men by Battalion. The 506th's First Battalion got theirs four days after their return to Mourmelon-le-Grand, and now the Second Battalion had theirs starting Saturday the fourth. Alice had only small plans. She wanted to go into Reims, grab a few drinks, take it easy.

She caught a truck after lunch. A handful of other men, none from Easy, joined her. She talked with two of the sergeants from Ron's old platoon, John Anderson and Alex Scott. They were good men, smart men. By the end they were all laughing.

It only took half an hour to get to Reims. The city, in the process of being restored from endless bombings it had endured, somehow still looked welcoming. As the truck came to a stop and the back was lowered, Alice followed Anderson and Scott down.

"You're here by yourself, Lieutenant?" Scott asked.

She smiled. "For now, yeah." Landing on the ground, she steadied herself. Her dress uniform didn't make movement too easy, but at least the new Ike jacket helped with that some. 

Anderson nodded. "Well, stay safe. We're just gonna hit the town, so if anyone causes any trouble let us know."

"Thanks, boys," Alice said, chuckling. "I really do appreciate it."

They strolled side by side with her into the city limits. Laughter and music could be heard from the streets. Anderson just laughed though, and shook his head.

"Captain Speirs would probably send someone after us if we didn't at least offer," he pointed out.

"You're not wrong," she agreed, grinning. "I understand Dog called him Sparky?"

Scott choked back a laugh. He exchanged a quick glance with Anderson. But when she laughed at the looks on their faces, he just nodded. "Among other things, yeah, but never to his face."

"That'd be a death wish," Alice agreed.

Anderson laughed as he chewed some gum. He nodded. "We owe him, though. Got us through a helluva lot. Damn good officer."

"Good ol' Killer," Scott added with a poorly suppressed snicker. "Crazy sonofabitch, but a damn good officer."

"Alright, well you two have fun," Alice said, grinning from ear to ear.

They told her the same and split to head towards the bars in the city. Alice had other plans. Wandering around the city, she relished the wonderfully pleasant March weather. Chilly but not freezing, the lack of snow and ice and rain had her smiling. With her Ike jacket, she was plenty warm. As she wandered through the town, Alice found a place to get her hair cut.

That became stop one. Having her hair back to shoulder length made everything better. With that done, Alice moved on to the shopping district. It took about an hour before she picked out a dress to send back to Millie, and a scarf for Madeleine. Adding a small toy for Percy didn't take long after that and before she knew it, Alice was heading to a bar for a couple drinks after a quick dinner.

The main bar for the soldiers housed in Camp de Châlons had been built specifically for them. Local men and women looking for work found it there and it provided a spot for the soldiers to congregate without disrupting the rest of Reims. Often the USO would provide entertainment, but today they just had a large jukebox going.

Alice grabbed a glass of wine from the bar before finding a spot to sit. To her surprise, it didn't really fill up; she supposed a lot of the men were probably exhausted and were resting. Not that she minded. The steady rumble of voices stayed relatively low so she could hear the music. Alice sipped at her wine and pulled out a letter Vest had handed her earlier. She opened it.

"Dear Alice,

"Well, my dear, I don't know when this'll find you, hun, but I can only hope it comes to you in a timely fashion. We haven't heard much good news since your last letter in December. The news is going on and on about the Yanks and Patton and some such things, but of course you're never in those stories. We did see some newsreels of the other boys though. Madeleine insists you're fine. For once I think I'll believe my sister.

"It just turned to February this morning. It's been a cold winter, but based on the films, you had an even colder one. The good news is since that fight in Belgium, it seems we're winning. Well and truly winning, my dear. I only wish my husband had lived to see that day.

"There's no doubt in my mind that there's plenty of things you want to keep to yourself. So don't worry about trying to tell me what you went through. I knew enough not to press my husband for details. So whenever you can write me, just let me know the weather and the song you last listened to, things like that. Madeleine, Maggie, and Percy all say hello, as well. Keep fighting, Alice.

"Love, Millie Bratt."

With a small smile, Alice folded the letter back up. Millie's strong script somehow made home and safety feel just that much closer. Home.

Alice felt her breath catch at the very thought. Home? Her eyes scanned the crowd in the bar. The brown and tan paratrooper dress uniforms combined with the dresses of civilian girls certainly didn't scream 'home' in her mind. If she was honest with herself, Alice didn't really know what home meant anymore. The only consistent association she held with the word home were people, names.

The music had changed to slower beats. Jitterbug forgotten, the men with dates moved into the center of the dance area. Alice returned to sipping at her wine when the chair in front of her got pulled out and occupied.

She looked up. Her smile grew. "George."

"Haven't seen you in ages!" He lit a cigarette and settled back. "Where you been hiding?"

"In bed," Alice said, laughing.

George snickered. "Fair enough."

He sipped at a beer, and she sipped her wine. As George counted up bills, likely from a poker match if Alice had to guess, she just sat quietly. Sentimental Journey played in the background. The alcohol warmed her body, causing a slight tingle in her extremities. She relaxed.

"So, you and Cap'n Nixon?"

Alice choked on her wine. The smart-ass grin that spread across his face said all she needed to know; he'd caught her off guard enough that her reaction had betrayed her. After she got control over herself, Alice put her elbows on the table and leaned in.

"What?"

"You and Nixon," he repeated. Still grinning, he copied her pose. He took out his cigarette and blew out some of the smoke. "I suspected it, years ago. Thank you for confirming."

"Confirmed what? How? I have no idea what you mean," she sputtered. "Damn it, George."

He laughed. "Oh be quiet. The way you look at him is enough. You watch him all the time. And," George added. "He does the same to you."

"He's married, George, so nothing is going on, nor will anything be going on," Alice snapped. Her heart raced. "Besides, we're in the middle of a fucking war, George."

He nodded and plopped his cigarette back in his mouth. "I know, I know. Pity." Then he smirked again. "But, all I said was four words, 'you and Captain Nixon,' which could have been completely innocent, and yet you knew exactly what I meant. So, I rest my case."

Alice was about to respond when Talbert, Grant, and Shifty wandered over. She could feel the heat in her face. As George turned to talk to the other Sergeants, she gave an inward, silent scream, and stood. "George, let's dance."

The knowing smirk he sent her way almost made her want to punch him. But he nodded and stood from the table. "Shifty, make sure these two don't take our drinks, yeah?"

"Get outta here, George," Talbert heckled. 

With the music still subdued tunes from the lines of Glenn Miller and Doris Day, they moved into the dance space. With a half-hearted glare, Alice took his hand to dance. He smirked right back at her.

"So, do you?" he asked, more sincere. 

Alice sighed and shook her head. She looked away as George led. Then she glanced back at him. "Do I what?" At his expression, she gritted her teeth. "Even if I did, which is entirely theoretical, he's already married, George."

"Yeah, well, I've heard plenty of rumors about how that marriage goes," George told her.

She frowned at him. Taking several moments to just move to the slow music, she debated her response. Finally she settled on simply, "He has a responsibility as a Nixon."

George watched her more closely. He dropped his smirk and seemed to actually consider his next words more carefully. "Be honest. Are you...?"

"Am I in love with him?"

"Hah, your words, not mine."

"Fuck off," Alice snapped. But she didn't move. When he apologized and waited for her to continue, she sighed. "Unfortunately, I think I am. But once more I will point out that first off, he is married, and second, we're fighting a goddamn war."

"Not ideal circumstances," George agreed.

They fell back into silence. The slow sway of dancing to Moonlight Cocktail had her doing all sorts of thinking. George didn't say anything else. When the song ended, they dropped hands. He looked at her.

She huffed. "Don't-"

"I ain't gonna say anything," he told her. "Don't you trust me enough to know that?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah I do."

With a nod to each other, they headed back over to the table. George started smirking again, immediately falling back into his well trained, clownish persona. Tab had pulled over a fifth chair so as George and Alice retook their seats, they settled into easy conversation.

"Wish I knew what you two were talkin' about," Tab said, chuckling. "Looked pretty heated at one point there."

"Eh, you know. She's just getting mad at me for flirting, the usual," George said.

Grant started snickering into his beer. "No one's surprised." After taking a long drink, he looked at the whole table. "So did you hear about Ike?"

"What about him?" George asked.

"The whole 101st is getting a citation, apparently," he said. "Shifty, you're the one who told me, right?"

Shifty nodded. "Yes indeed. Word is General Eisenhower's going to give the whole Division a Presidential Distinguished Unit Citation next week."

"Has that ever been done before?" Talbert asked.

Shifty shook his head. "No, no it hasn't. We're gettin' it because of Bastogne."

They chatted aimlessly for a while, enjoying beers and small talk. They steered the conversation as far from Bastogne as they could. After a while, they each started sharing letters they'd received from back home after their months on the line. Eventually they came to Alice.

"Yeah, I got one," she said with a smile.

"No shit?" George relaxed back in his chair with a cigarette. "Who from?"

"Millie."

He and Talbert started smiling. Turning to Grant and Shifty, Alice went on to explain. "I don't know if you two ever really met my billet host?"

"Nope, just heard about her," Grant said.

Alice nodded. "Millie Bratt, what a fantastic woman," she said, smiling. "She lost her husband in the war, lives with her younger sister and her son, Percy. Great family."

"Not fond of the Yanks, if I recall," Talbert teased.

She started laughing. With a shake of her head, Alice didn't correct him. "No. But the Airborne grew on her. She held similar opinions to me when I came to America."

"Wait, what?" George sat up straighter. "What do you mean?"

Alice's drink rested on her lips as she froze. The men around the table looked genuinely confused and slightly concerned. She put her drink down. "You mean... You didn't know?"

"Know what?" Talbert demanded.

Alice winced a bit. "That I didn't exactly like Americans? You had to have at least suspected it!"

"Boys, I think we've been insulted," George said. He looked at her with an incredulous grin before turning to them. "Shift, did you know?"

"Well, as a matter 'a fact, I did suspect it." He shot her an apologetic smile. "Not that we gave ya' much reason to like us, now did we?"

"What!" Talbert protested. "What do you mean?"

Grant just started chuckling. "Holy shit, Alice. The truth comes out." He downed another drink of his beer. 

Shifty shrugged. "Lot 'a people called her a Nazi," he reminded the other three. "I think we all heard it quite a few times, and I don't really remember any of y'all, myself included of course, making them stop in the beginning. I think some of Easy even joined in." He turned to Alice. "Especially after you did such an excellent job running Currahee. Wow, that was a sight. Sobel made you mad over the wrong thing, I reckon."

Alice smiled at Shifty before looking around the table. She didn't hold Toccoa against anyone in Easy, least of all the men gathered with her. In fact, seeing them glaring at the table or their drinks, refusing to meet her gaze, reminded her just how much they cared.

"We're all very different people now," she decided to say, "after three years. And even if that wasn't true, I don't hold those first weeks against anyone from Easy." When they looked up at her, she suppressed a grin and continued, "No, that's not the real reason I didn't particularly like Americans. I found Americans to be overly-opinionated, brash, unpolite, border-line stupid-"

"Hey!" 

At the objections all of them raised, she started laughing. Alice took a drink of her wine. "No, I'm just kidding. I just, I felt like America had waited too long to enter the war. I guess I always just figured the States were several years too late."

"Well, we're here now and we're winning it," Talbert said, raising his glass. "To the Allies. Currahee."

"Hear, hear," Alice said.

They all clinked drinks. It didn't take much longer for the group to decide to head back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. The trucks would stop departing in an hour, at midnight, so they didn't want to waste too much time. Alice grabbed her purchases and hurried with them away from the bar. The night quieted as they left the city to catch a truck. 

Alice took the time to think. As they bounced down the road in the back of the troop truck, she stayed quiet. Her mind drifted back to years past. But soon, thoughts of her warm bedroom and hot shower overtook her nostalgia. She couldn't wait to sleep.