24 December 1944

Something changed after the patrol. A wind shifted. When Sveta walked up to the line, she saw the men brighten up. It surprised her at first. The trust seemed foreign. Sure, the hostility had died down at the beginning of the siege, and some even had trusted her, but now it seemed nearly universal. It seemed that word of her actions had reached the ears of everyone in Easy.

And apparently beyond Easy.

Part of the job Dick entrusted to her was keeping in contact with Dog Company on their flank. It was no secret that she got along more with Ron than anyone else in the entire regiment, and he seemed content to use that. Sveta certainly didn't mind. While it wasn't fun to walk through the perfectly lined up trees of the Ardennes, dark trunk after dark trunk making it feel like a maze, she liked the destination. Ron was there, and she didn't mind their CO, Lieutenant McMillan.

Spina came with her this time. They walked in silence, or as well as they were able. He was hoping to scrounge any supplies off them he could, and mentioned that with her next to him he might have a better chance than on his own.

Each footstep crunched in the snow. Two pairs of Corcoran boots. Sveta had come to think of the boots as synonymous with the Americans. At first, it had bothered her to wear them. But now, with thoughts of escaping Russia through the Americans in her mind, she welcomed them. They would help her get out of Beria's clutches.

Her breath, trapped by the pillowcase still wrapped like a scarf, warmed her face. But there was wind. It stung her eyes as she blinked against it. She had about thirty minutes to get there and back before dinner.

The Americans were throwing some sort of party at the Division CP. Sink had suggested they all refrain from going, instead having all the officers join the men on the line. It had been one of the few times she'd really appreciated Sink's decisions. That was the kind of thinking that would keep the men alive and sane.

"How much farther, Captain?" Spina asked.

She looked at him on her left. His breath kept forming little clouds in front of his face, and he stuck his hands in his pockets, hunched inwards a bit from the cold. "Not far. Getting cold, Spina?"

He scoffed. "You could say that."

Though he couldn't see because of her scarf, Sveta just smiled. It was true though. They weren't far. She'd left her Russian rifle back at the CP, opting instead just for her sidearm, and she couldn't wait to put it back in it's holster so her hand could warm up in her pocket. Already it stung to grip the gun.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw friendly faces. They lowered their guns when they saw her, the only woman in combat anywhere near them. Sveta nodded. "Where's your C.O.?"

"He's one platoon over, ma'am, with Lieutenant Speirs," one said, a sergeant.

"Thank you." She turned back to Spina. "Come on, Doc. That's how much farther."

He let out a tiny, unamused laugh. But he followed, hurrying a few paces to walk beside her. They passed many foxholes. Some were empty, some were full, some looked like they hadn't been touched in days. It felt a bit like a ghost town, if Sveta had to admit.

They found Lieutenant McMillan just where the Sergeant had promised. He, Ron, and the First Sergeant who she couldn't remember a name for, stood huddling together, steaming cups in hand. Ron caught her eye first.

"Captain," he said. The other two followed his gaze, saluting.

Sveta holstered her gun, and returned it with a tiny salute of her own. Then she stuck her hands in her pockets. "Lieutenants, Sergeant."

"To what do we owe the pleasure this evening, Captain?" McMillan asked. He took a sip of his drink, and then turned, gesturing to where a small pot sat on a burner. "Coffee? We've got a bit left."

"No thank you." But she turned to Spina, pulling down the scarf from her face. "Doc?"

He shook his head. "Nah, no thanks. If I drink it I'll just want more later, sirs."

Sveta smiled. "Right. Go do what you're here for, then report back here in ten."

"Yes ma'am."

She turned back to the officers and First Sergeant. "I'm just up here for a status report, not a social call."

McMillan let out a small laugh. "One of these days, you should come up just for fun. It's a lovely vacation spot." But then he shook his head. "We're holding it together. Colonel Sink is supposed to come up here after he visits Easy. Hopefully the men will appreciate that."

"Hopefully," she agreed. "It's certainly better for morale than having him sitting down to a proper dinner at Division."

"Easy looked stretched pretty thin last time I was out there," Ron commented. "Are they able to hold their section of the line?"

"They'll hold." Sveta frowned. They had to hold. "I'll keep an eye on it though. If Dike needs any help, he knows where to find me. He just has to admit he needs the help first."

McMillan didn't say anything, and neither did Ron or the First Sergeant, but the looks on their faces told the story. They knew his ineptitude. Sveta was the only one brash enough to say it out loud. She outranked him, and as far as she was concerned, even if she didn't she was still better than him in every way.

"So, why'd your Doc come with you?" McMillan asked.

Sveta shrugged. "Needs supplies. He seemed to think he could scrounge better if I was in the area."

"Thinks you'll scare everyone into handing over the goods," Ron agreed.

She smirked at him and he smirked right back. They all knew it was true. Exaggerated tales of the insane Soviet woman who single-handedly saved an entire platoon patrol had started circling. Only half true, as far as she was concerned. But it had done her a service, if the trust placed in her by the Americans was worth anything.

"Don't worry, I won't let him leave you empty handed," Sveta assured them.

McMillan brought her up to speed on the specifics of how Dog was fairing. It didn't take long for Ron and the First Sergeant to both have to report for other duties, and she wished the former well. Dog had been suffering casualties since day one even heavier than Easy, and McMillan explained that morale had been hard to maintain. Sveta offered the best advice she could give: keep going, and don't look back.

When Spina came back with a few syrettes of morphine and a couple bandages, she turned to leave. McMillan wished her well, and she him, and then they marched back in the direction of Easy. Spina seemed happy with his prizes. Apparently it had taken some begging, some trading of chocolate bars and a pack of smokes, but they'd gotten much needed supplies. Now it was dinner time.

The forest had just started to darken when they reached Easy's CP. Dick, Nixon, and Zhanna stood together chatting quietly. Or, the former two chatted while Zhanna looked to be shivering. Compton moved to join them. It seemed like Harry, walking over with a canteen in hand, would've done the same until he caught sight of Sveta. He waited for her as Sink got out of a jeep and began to speak.

"Enjoy your stroll through the woods?" Harry asked her.

Sveta scoffed. Pulling her scarf down, she blew into her hands and then turned back to him from looking at the men. "It was lovely. I need a winter home here. Feels like Siberia."

"You been there?"

Sveta shook her head. "No. Just heard stories."

Many stories. But Harry didn't need to know about those. Instead, she fell quiet as Sink continued on.

"Two days ago, the German commander demanded our honorable surrender to save the U.S.A. encircled troops from total annihilation. He received the following reply." Sink paused for a moment, then looked at the men. "To the German commander: Nuts!"

Sveta rolled her eyes. Classic American bravado. But the men seemed to find it infinitely amusing, cracking up and repeating the phrase that had basically been a 'fuck you' to the Krauts. She enjoyed the sentiment, if not the tactless way the Americans had presented it.

By the time she tuned back into Sink's speech, he wrapped it up with a Merry Christmas and well wishes for them in Bastogne. It amazed her how the little get together with their Commander brightened their spirits. Though not everyone could be there, as someone had to stay up on the line, she had no doubt the sentiments would travel before long. Maybe "nuts'' was just what they needed to hear.

"Merry Christmas, Svetlana," Harry said. He raised his canteen in a small salute before taking a long drink of what she was sure was not water.

Sveta shrugged. "I don't celebrate it."

"Oh. Really?" He looked at her. "Never knew that."

"Religion is the opiate of the people," she explained. Then she paused, realizing that she'd just quoted Stalin without even thinking about it. It left a bad taste in her mouth. "Or, so I was taught."

Harry just laughed. "Suit yourself. You're missing out."

Sveta didn't know about all that, but as she watched the men moving about, laughing and trading little bits of food or smokes or other goodies they'd acquired, it did make her pause. Maybe she had. But then, maybe she hadn't. Whatever the case, it had improved morale for sure.

She left the party after eating. Many of the men had wandered out to relieve those still on the line, to give them a small break from the darkness and the cold. Sveta decided to walk the line.

She found Guarnere and Toye chatting together outside a foxhole and behind a couple trees. At her approach, Guarnere just nodded. "Captain."

"Guarnere. Toye," she added. "Any news?"

"Not a fucking thing," Guarnere told her. "Joe?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Nothing new, Captain. A shit ton of cold and dark and Kraut songs across the way."

She nodded. They'd sung the last two nights, too. Christmas carols, apparently. Liebgott had decided to return the favor, much to everyone else's annoyance. He had a fine voice, as did Alley who often joined him. But Spina had tried to sing and that had pissed everyone off. He couldn't carry a tune to save his life.

After letting them move on, she made her rounds. As much as the men trusted her, few wanted to hold conversations. She didn't particularly mind. Alley and More chatted with her for a bit, complaining about the weather and then letting slip their annoyance with Dike. She'd just agreed with them. She didn't care about them bad mouthing an incompetent superior.

Night had fallen by the time she started back to the Battalion CP. Her face stung from the cold, hands aching. She could barely stretch her fingers. The scarf around her face helped only a bit against the biting wind that had started up.

When the bombs started, she'd fallen to the ground. The explosions weren't far, the sky lit up by flares and then the red and gold glow of flames. Her hands dug into the frozen ground as she struggled to get up. Her ears rang, but she could hear shouting. Sveta shook herself.

Spitting out blood, she scrambled forward. The bombs stopped for the time being. As the ringing faded, she realized she heard the other officers. Sveta stumbled onto chaos.

Harry writhed on the ground. Dick sat at his side. Not far, Nixon shouted into a radio and Peacock put out a fire. It took her just a split second before she slid beside Dick to look at the blood seeping from Harry's thigh. She paused. Dick glanced at her, and then screamed for a medic.

Sveta tore her pillowcase off her neck and used it to blot the wound. She ignored Harry's gasping, ignored the way she knew he suffered. She didn't want to see his pain. Instead she tried to stop the blood.

It stained the white sheet in her hand. Sveta felt her throat clench. She couldn't breathe, staring down at the blood soaking through the white sheet. Just like Stalingrad.

Just like Stalingrad.

A body landed next to her, jolting Sveta out of her thoughts. Doc Roe looked at her, nodding, and Sveta stumbled back. Her body hit the ground as she rolled out of the way, ignoring the pain as she felt a tree root hit her shoulder. The back of her neck stung, exposed to the elements as snow got into her shirt and her helmet fell to the side.

Blood stained her hands. She tried to breathe. It wasn't her mother's blood. It wasn't the blood of children. It was Harry's blood, and Doc Roe would fix him.

As the chaos calmed, she tried to catch her breath. But the pillowcase that had kept her warm since they'd arrived in this hell scape now lay cast aside, abandoned, soaked scarlet with blood against the snow. Like the mattress. Like the sheets. Like her mother's body.

"Svetlana?"

She jerked away, letting out a sharp cry as a hand touched her arm. Eyes wide, she realized it was just Winters and Nixon. They both watched her. Was it concern in their eyes? Or fear? Or mistrust... she couldn't tell. She just knew they were watching her, and she wanted to hide. She felt thirteen again, thirteen and surrounded by men with blue caps and blood stained hands.

"Are you alright?" Nixon asked.

She froze. Her hand stung from being in the snow for so long, nearly numb. Sveta just pushed herself up with the tree she'd nearly stumbled into. At first she couldn't look away from the bloody pillowcase. But then she realized they were still watching her. "I'm fine," she snapped.

The ground shook as a massive explosion sent a red glow into the sky. It cut off any response as they looked through the tree branches and saw fire raining down. The Germans had had enough. No more waiting. No Christmas Truce this year, not like the ones she'd heard Sink speak of. Just death for the Allies.

"We should get to the CP," Sveta told them. "Now."

Dick and Nixon agreed. Peacock had gone off to Easy, and as Sveta made to follow them, she paused by the stained pillowcase. Memories weren't so easily tossed away as sheets and mattresses. That was why she needed to leave. That was why she had to get out of Russia. She couldn't throw away the memories, but she could escape them.

Author's Note

Julianne KILLED it with this chapter. (She always does, let's be honest.) 

I, (Flora/Adamanitumdragonfly/Zhanna's warden), just wanted to hop on here and let our lovely and greatly appreciated readers know of a lil change to our usual update schedule. 

With the summer starting and our lives picking up we, the author pair, have decided to revert back to our original Saturday posting. 

Under the Banner will be updated on Saturdays US EST. 

Thank YOU for reading and voting. The comments have been amazing and I know I've loved interacting with y'all. 

See y'all next Saturday! 

Flora :)