19 December 1944

Sveta knew fear.

It had come into her life in 1935, and the fear had controlled her for many years. She'd learned how to navigate with panic stifling her breath, constricting her heart.

After fear came despair. Between Beria and her mother's suicide, for many months Sveta had come to think that she would die by her father's gun as well.

Then the hatred had crept its way into her life. Hatred fueled the blood in her veins, kept them blazing. Even in the grey mists of the Ardennes, surrounded on all sides by a thousand identical trees, snow blanketing each inch, that hatred kept her warm.

The briefing ended with news of the assault on 1st Battalion. The Nazis had an overwhelming force. 1st had stood no chance. They had been slaughtered. She saw the uncovered faces of the men around her fall. Despair?

Not yet. But definitely fear. Their shoulders hunched inwards, a few rocked on the balls of their feet. Nearly half of them hugged themselves across the chest. In the dark and cold of Bastogne, they shivered equally as much from fright.

Sveta kept her face covered as much as she could. The pillowcase stuffed with a washrag trapped the heat in, covering her nose and mouth. The less exposed skin, the better. Sveta knew this. Fur would've been better, though.

She'd have taken their version of winter clothing over the nothing they'd gotten. But Americans knew how to fight in the winter just about as well as the Nazis. When Sink dismissed them, Sveta stepped away and watched. Winters drew himself up to full height, chatting with his voice low to Nixon, Harry at his side. Dike wandered off. Buck followed him with Peacock and Foley and Shames. Ron joined McMillan and the rest of Dog's officers in walking towards their line. Fox's men petered about. Not despair. Not yet.

She moved over to Zhanna. "How was your night?"

Zhanna sighed. She all but curled in on herself. They all felt the cold, and Zhanna was smaller with less body heat than most. "Cold. But I'm fine."

"I miss the furs from back home," Sveta admitted. Switching to Russian, she added, "I'm not sure these men understand the real danger of the lack of warm clothes."

"Maybe not." Zhanna nodded, staying in English. "But they will. We'll need to help them."

Sveta agreed. Looking around, she tried to stay calm. The endless rows of dark tree trunks contrasted against the white snow and grey fog. Oppressive silence embraced the world. After staring off into the distance, she turned back to talk to Zhanna.

But she'd already wandered off. Sveta frowned. Her retreating form shadowed Compton.

"Hey, Svetlana." Harry called over to her from where he stood with Nixon and Winters. "Come here."

Sveta pulled her makeshift scarf back over her face. When she joined them, Nixon moved to let her into their little square. She nodded her thanks. Hatred for Lieutenant Dike hadn't mended their relationship, but at least they had a common enemy within their own ranks.

"I want you to up on the line for now," Winters told her. He shivered where he stood, face a bit paler than normal. "Coordinate with Lipton in Easy and Speirs in Dog to keep an eye on the men."

"Why me?" she asked.

Winters sighed. "They're going to need your experience. You and Casmirovna know better than anyone what this is going to be like," he explained.

Nixon agreed immediately. He gestured to the scarf. "Using the bedding from Mourmelon was inspired. I wish we'd thought of that ahead of time," he admitted.

"If I'd had time, I'd have suggested it," she said. Sveta met Nixon's gaze and nodded once. She appreciated his words. Turning back to Winters, she pointed off towards the trees. "Morale is going to be as hard to keep up as their physical well being."

Harry agreed. "Yeah, we were talking about that."

"Thoughts?" Winters asked.

Sveta took a deep breath. The cold hurt her throat, but she stifled down a cough. Ways to keep morale up? "Keep them active. Move between foxholes when possible, anything to keep the blood flowing and their minds from wandering." She glanced between them. "Fear is your greatest enemy here. If we look scared, the men will follow."

Harry nodded, looking at the dirty snow beneath his feet for a moment. Nixon and Winters just exchanged glances. Sveta sighed. Things were already bleak. They had to learn how to wear masks.

"Play the game," she finally said. Sveta paused as they looked at her in confusion. "It's a deadly game, but it's a game. The cold, the silence, the loneliness. They're just pieces in the game, like us."

"How do we fight them?" Harry asked.

She wet her lips, trying to fight the cracking that already started to set in. "Dike is going to be the biggest problem." She saw Nixon scoff out a laugh and Winters and Harry just grimace. At least they agreed. "Think of him as an enemy. Anyone, anything that isn't helping us survive is an enemy. And act accordingly. Watch him. Keep him in check. The men need to know that we can win, or we've already lost. The fear is what we're fighting now."

"I had no idea you could give such great speeches, Samsonova," Nixon teased.

Sveta just rolled her eyes. "When necessary, and when people will listen." After a brief pause, all four of them shifting where they stood, she took a deep breath. "This is a battle I've been fighting since I was thirteen, gentlemen."

"The cold?" Nixon asked.

"The fear." She looked over at Winters. "I'll head up to the line. It may help that the men don't exactly love me. I can keep an eye on them as a third party."

"Right. Get back here by dinner," he told her. Then he sighed. "Go to Lipton or Buck if you need help with Dike."

Sveta smiled, glad that the scarf was down off her face. "Dike won't be a problem, I can assure you."

"Oh, please shoot him," Nixon muttered. "That would be such a great story. 'American Lieutenant shot for insubordination by female Red Army Captain'."

With a short laugh, she just shook her head. "Then I'd get shot. If you'll excuse me, I have a job to do. As I'm sure the rest of you do," she added.

Harry laughed as she turned away. Once more Sveta found herself staring at the endless lines of dark tree trunks. Many stood in proper lines. Haunting, really. With the mists still hanging over the land, it made her more than a little nervous to head in the direction of the 2nd Battalion.

Each step sounded much too loud. The snow sucked the life out of the air, each tree barely moving in the small wind. Sveta looked up. Dark fir branches stretched overhead. On the ground lay a mix of dirt and snow.

She kept moving. The more she moved around, the warmer she would feel. And though hatred for the Germans kept her simmering, it couldn't keep out the cold entirely.

"Captain?"

Spina's voice came from the right and up ahead. She looked over and found him and Roe sitting in a foxhole. Sveta made her way to them. As she crouched by the side, Sveta looked first at them and then the surrounding area. A few other foxholes weren't far, and she saw Lipton chatting with Luz. She pulled the scarf off her face. "How are you two?"

"Just fuckin' dandy," Spina muttered. He pushed himself up to sit on the side of the foxhole. "Could do with a blanket or ten."

Sveta forced herself to smile. "We all could. It's only going to get colder. I need you two to keep me informed of any medical problems you might encounter."

Roe nodded. "You mean like trench foot?"

"Trench foot, pneumonia, frostbite," she added. "But be on the look out for other odd behaviors. Loss of focus, shell shock, trauma. It's our job to keep the company sane as well as safe."

Both Spina and Roe promised they would do just that. She trusted them. They were good men. But as much as she needed to talk to them, someone else took priority and she watched him start to walk off.

"First Sergeant Lipton!"

Lipton turned back to her, as did Luz and the nearby Shifty and Guarnere. She nodded to all three of them as Lipton joined her. He fidgeted with his hands, trying to get them inside his feeble coat. Sveta led him a bit away from the men.

"What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Lipton, we need to talk." She took a small breath and nodded, almost to herself. "I won't lie. This is going to be as tough mentally as physically for the men." When he agreed, she relaxed. Lipton understood. "I'm here for Captain Winters, to keep an eye on things and give what help I can with managing the cold."

"It's appreciated," Lipton told her. He sighed as well, and looked around. Foxholes were still being carved out, deepened to be safer. "We can use all the help we can get."

"I know. And your CO is useless." If it hadn't been so depressing, Sveta would've laughed at how Lipton, who often tried so hard to mediate disputes and name-calling, didn't try to defend him. "As long as I'm on the line, I want you to feel free to bring any issues with that man to me."

Lipton smirked. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'll set him straight."

He gave a small laugh. "Guarnere's been talking about how scary you are since he got back from the hospital."

Sveta broke out into a grin. Looking past Lipton, she saw Guarnere sitting by a tree, chewing at a ration. Malarkey and Toye were with him. "Hey, Guarnere."

Everyone looked up at her. Sveta forced her smile away as Guarnere met her gaze. She moved over to him, passing the medics who seemed to watch her with close apprehension. Malarkey and Toye both stood as she reached them, but Guarnere just stayed sitting on the ground, totally at ease as he ate his can of rations.

"Got an extra bedsheet, Captain?" he asked.

Sveta just scoffed. "Not for you."

"Well, that ain't nice," he muttered. Guarnere looked up at her from his meal. "Is this what Russia's like?"

"In Siberia." Sveta couldn't help her smile. "You'll all adjust. Just keep moving. You have to keep the blood flowing." As she realized no one was saying anything, Luz, Toye, and Malarkey seemingly shocked that she was even conversing with Guarnere, Sveta smirked. "Are you all scared?"

"Us?" Guarnere laughed. "No fucking way. If two broads can handle the cold, we'll be fine."

She nodded. Bitterness could keep them warm, too. It worked for her. Let them jab and joke. It would be better for them to be angry enough to move around than scared stiff in a freezing foxhole. Reaching for her nearest cigarette pack, Sveta plopped one in her mouth and lit it. "Want one?"

Guarnere accepted it. She offered it to Toye and Malarkey, who still stood watching her. After a brief moment, they both accepted as well. "Luz?" She turned to him.

"What are you charging, Captain?" he joked. But Luz wasted no time in taking one.

Sveta shook her head. "They're free." She started off, but after a few steps, she turned back. Sveta took out her smoke and smirked at them. "Though Lieutenant Speirs sends his regards."