January 12, 1945

She couldn't eat. Every time Alice looked at one of the canned meats or the trail mixes offered, she felt sick. Gene had given her the penicillin just a few days ago, and he told her he'd have another dose soon, but Alice already reached the point where it became hard to hide her distress. The cough that felt like it ripped her chest apart had been reduced a bit, but she could feel herself shaking like a leaf and not from the cold alone.

Staring at the food that Easy Company sat enjoying, she wobbled. Alice turned away and stood against a tree, closing her eyes, and trying to focus on getting enough oxygen. When Lipton walked over to her a few minutes later, she finally reopened her eyes.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded. After taking a moment to look her up and down, he gestured towards the forest. Together they trudged off towards the Battalion CP.

"Are you going to say something?" Alice asked.

He looked at her for a moment. Then he nodded. "Yes. If I don't, I don't think I could live with myself."

"Yeah. Yeah I know what you mean," she said. "Dike's a danger to everyone."

"I just don't want to put Captain Winters in a tight spot," Lipton added. "He doesn't need that."

Alice laughed under her breath. No, Dick didn't need any more drama. But she knew that he needed to know before tomorrow's attack of Foy just what the men of Easy thought about their Company Commander. And, unfortunately for him, Lip was the man to do that.

"Trust me, Lip. Dick would want you to be honest about Dike. But," she added, "that doesn't mean he'll be able to do anything. We talked about it before."

"You have?"

Alice nodded. "After Hoobs' death. Nixon, Winters, and I went over possible alternatives to Dike. And there were none," she muttered.

He flashed her a tiny smirk, picking his way over a fallen tree. As she did the same, he shrugged. "You could."

"Lip, no." Alice shook her head. "Even if the brass allowed it, I do not have the patience to deal with the sort of politics that comes with leading men. Between dealing with someone above me, and what would surely be resistance against me from below, I won't do it."

He fell quiet. The familiar silence of the Ardennes fell around them. But then nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

"Even if I wanted to, that sort of resistance to my presence would cause harm to the company as much as to myself. It's not feasible."

"Yeah."

A cough shook her. She hissed as a stabbing pain shot through her rib cage. Alice stumbled over a fallen tree. A few choice words flew from her before she could think and her heart pounded in her chest. "Ack! Goddamnit!" Alice slammed her fist in the tree trunk she'd grabbed to steady herself. 

Lipton watched her. He shook his head. "You're getting worse."

"I need a warm shower, a bed, and more than one dose of penicillin," Alice snapped, straightening up. She put her back against the tree and shook her head. "But, seeing as I can't get any of those, there's not much to do other than try to take that stupid town."

"Well, come on." Gently pushing her forward, Lipton placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment. Her red cheeks had worried him since he'd seen her that morning, and based on the cough still destroying her body, he knew she was in no shape to be helping on the line. But, what she said was also true. "The sooner we report to Captain Winters, the sooner we go take that stupid town."

She didn't even mean to, but Alice leaned into his push a bit. The little extra pressure helped her stand. Soon enough, with the sun gone and the cold seeping through their meager clothing, they reached the Battalion CP. It surprised Alice that only a dozen or so men meandered around. 

"Hang here, Lip," Alice said. "I'll go find him."

Lipton nodded. She left him standing outside the main tent used by the commanders and as she watched him take out a cigarette, she had to stop from laughing. She felt a bit ashamed to have been part of the reason that Lip had decided to pick up a smoking habit. But then, George and the German 88s had held equal responsibility in it as well. Unfortunately, because of her wheezing, Alice couldn't hurry off through the CP. But after a few minutes, she finally found Dick speaking with a handful of Fox Company's sergeants.

He caught sight of her when he turned away. "You brought Lip?"

"Yeah, he's waiting." She frowned at him. "How's it been back here?"

"Busy," he muttered. "Come on."

She didn't get any more from him. Dick moved off quickly, back towards where he knew Lip would be waiting. It took effort for Alice to keep up with him, and by the time they reached the tent, she had already started panting for air. Alice cursed herself in her mind.

"Lip, didn't figure you for a smoking man," Dick commented. He gestured for them to follow inside the tent. As Alice all but collapsed into a seat, Lipton stood by the door. After giving a runner a paper to take to Ron in Dog Company, he turned back to them. "So? Any news?"

Lipton looked at Alice first before turning back to Dick. "We've been watching Foy all day sir, not much activity."

"Coffee?" Dick offered. When Lipton shook his head, he settled down near Alice and clutched his cup. "How's Easy's status?"

"The men are good sir, they're prepared." He stole a glance at Alice. He saw the pain in her eyes, and figured she could see the same in his expression. "I'm gonna be leading Second Platoon tomorrow. They're probably the weakest after losing Toye and Guarnere, and Muck, and Penkala."

Silence fell between them all. Alice's eyes shut out of pure instinct. The mention of the wounded and deceased Toccoa men hit all of them hard. 

"But, uh, all and all, I have every confidence in the men, sir."

Winters nodded. "Good."

Alice watched Lipton shuffle where he stood. For a few moments, he seemed to teeter between two choices. She just hoped he would speak up. She planned to as well, once Lipton had left, but having Easy's First Sergeant voices his concerns would help even more.

"But on the other hand, I have on confidence in our CO, sir." Lipton looked at Dick as his head shot up from where he'd been examining his cup of coffee. He continued, "Lieutenant Dike is an empty uniform, Captain. He's just, he's not there sir."

"Well, he's gonna be there tomorrow," Dick said, frustration evident in his sharp tone.

"Yes, sir, I understand he will be there physically. But tomorrow's gonna be the real deal," Lipton continued, not letting anyone stop him. His quiet, firm voice kept both Alice and Dick listening. "He's gonna have to lead those men. He's gonna have to make decisions, sir, and... I gotta tell you, sir. I think he's gonna get a whole lot of Easy Company men killed."

Alice nodded to Lipton and then turned to Dick. The man sat silent for a moment, clutching his tin cup, and watching Lipton. Then he nodded. "Thank you, sergeant. That'll be all."

"Yes, sir."

With the dismissal, Lipton nodded to him, and then to Alice. She returned it immediately. Both Alice and Dick watched as Lipton left. Neither spoke. 

"He's right, Dick," Alice finally said. 

He turned in his chair to face her. Alice could feel herself slipping a bit from the exhaustion and chills. But she kept her head up and gestured off. Thankfully, the area only continued to darken so hopefully it hid her condition. Dick frowned.

"We've been through this," he pointed out. "There's nothing I can do."

"It's like Aldbourne all over again," Alice muttered. She rubbed at her face, willing herself to stay awake. Then she glanced over at Dick. "Dike's another Sobel."

Dick took a deep breath. He looked at her. Holding her gaze for a few moments, neither spoke. They both knew the implications of that comment. Dick shook his head. "Well, I'll walk him through the plan again tomorrow. He better pull himself together."

"Lipton will be with him, that'll help," Alice agreed. 

Dick nodded. "He's who I'd want there."

"I-" A deep, painful cough ripped through her body. Alice couldn't quite suppress a painful groan at the movement. Grabbing at her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will away the pain. "Ah! Schiesse!

"That's getting worse, Alice." Dick left no room for argument as he got up and found a blanket. He handed it to her. "You're in no shape to be on the line right now."

"I'm not an idiot, Dick," Alice snapped. Shivering, she pulled the blanket around herself closer. "I know, ok! But what the hell am I supposed to do? I don't enjoy having pneumonia, you know. But until we get out of the Ardennes, there's nothing I can do but hope the next dose of Penicillin helps." She shook her head, shutting her eyes for a moment before turning back to him. "I'm not stupid. I know it's bad. I'm well aware that if it doesn't get better, it could kill me. So please, don't lecture me."

"Fine, but you better keep Doc Roe in the loop with how you're feeling," he insisted. "And if you can't handle this, tell me. I'll put you on light duties."

She accepted the cup of coffee he offered her from the burner. The warmth of the newly poured coffee in the metal tin cup made her feel a little better even just holding it. Alice nodded. "Fine."

Even as they returned to a comfortable silence, Alice felt the pain in her right rib cage returning. She released an inaudible groan as it pierced all the way through into her upper chest. Instead she focused on her breathing and her coffee.

"You two look horrible."

Dick and Alice both looked up to find Nixon in the doorway. He looked tired. In his right hand he held a K98k sniper rifle. Alice looked at him in surprise. When he didn't get a response from either of them, he moved over to her.

"Here," he said. Nixon handed her the rifle. "From Regimental. Third Battalion captured a sniper. Sink thought you could put it to better use than any of the Americans."

She grabbed it from him. The gun fit into her grip immediately. She knew the weight, the smooth sides. Everything felt familiar. Alice nodded. "Thanks."

Nixon nodded before grabbing a seat across from them. Gratefully accepting the cup of coffee that Dick passed him, he tried to warm his hands. "Everything's set to go for tomorrow. I spoke with Item and the rest of Third; they're as prepared as they're gonna get. Not sure they're too pleased to be playing the bait, though."

"Well, they better accept it," Dick muttered. 

Nixon eyed him in surprise at his harsh tone. Turning to Alice, he saw her struggling to even keep her eyes open. "Right. Let me guess, the arrogant rich jerk from Yale?"

"Yeah, something like that," Dick agreed, adding a small scoff. He sighed and shook his head. With a yawn, he stood and placed his coffee cup on the table. "We should get some sleep. We've got a lot of work to do in the morning."

Alice didn't argue. With a quick goodnight to both of them, she ducked out of the tent. When her feet hit the snow, she stopped and groaned. It shouldn't have surprised her, but Alice's anger at her illness made everything feel a million times worse. All she wanted was some tea, a bed, a shower, and maybe even a book. Instead she was about to crawl into a foxhole with a German sniper rifle, her lungs filled with pneumonia, in order to try to rest up for the assault on Foy that they'd been working towards for a month.

The cold foxhole made her somehow even angrier. But as she took off her helmet and attempted to run her fingers through her hair, Alice just sighed. Her hands trailed over the wooden barrel of the Karabiner. She couldn't tell if she felt nauseous from the pneumonia, or from the gun in her lap.

A pit formed in her stomach. Alice hated how easily the grip felt in her hands, how she could pull the trigger. The faces of the captured men like Franz that she'd spoken to in Bastogne reminded her of just how many soldiers in the German army fought out of misplaced love for their people and their homeland, not out of a desire to eradicate the Jews or conquer the world. All they wanted was to be respected, to be treated fairly. They wanted to do their families proud.

And Alice had the nerve to stare down the scope, look in their eyes, and fire a bullet into their heads.

She knew why. She had a job. Alice had a job to keep her friends, her men safe. She had a job to take back the land Hitler had stolen from his people. She had a job to end this war.

Her heart rate rapidly increased. Alice felt herself struggling to breathe, both from anxiety and from the pneumonia. Not for the last time did she wish she'd never taken the mission in Paris, never set foot in the Maquis, and certainly never trained to jump out of airplanes. She knew she had a fever. She could feel it when she touched her face, and the chills consumed her body. It didn't help her turmoil at all.

What would her family think of her. She took German lives with a German gun, she herself one of them. Equally French, equally German. In the foxhole in the Battalion CP, her hands on the wooden Karabiner, Alice hated herself. She hated everything. She hated the war. She hated the world. 

But above all, Alice hated the way that she'd fire that gun tomorrow anyways.