Sorry for slacking! I've just been very busy with traveling and the county fair. Things have settled down now, but only two weeks left until I start my Junior year of High School (ugh). Funny, I started the original story the summer before Freshman year. I was terrified.

I hope you enjoy!

~Chapter 3: Lather~

The mountain lived up to the guttural sounds of disgust the men gave it in the barracks before they left. With every heavy step Esther mustered she looked over to find the man next to her rolling his eyes in disgust. Esther had no motivation to run, no intentions but to not pass out. She hadn't decided which was worse- the amount of sweat that was pouring down her back and into the waistband of her navy shorts, or the constant yelling show Sobel put on for the men.

He yelled cult like sayings, with answers given that Esther had to ponder if they were English. To avoid personal humiliation from Sobel, Esther would move her mouth as if she was answering. "And what company is this?" He barked like an aggravated dog.

"Easy Company!" She tried to yell, but it came out as a dry sputter. Regardless, her voice was much higher than the men that surrounded her in shared suffering.

A dark haired men with classically blue grey eyes looked under his arm to her as he wiped his brow with his wrist. He gave her a sympathetic smile, with a touch of encouragement in angle of his eyebrows. She silently hoped that her face wasn't too flushed from running, but then realized at this point that her appearance was a lost cause.

Though she was panting and feeling light headed, she was relatively impressed with that fact that she hadn't keeled over yet. So much was happening at once and there was so much to think and wonder about. The distractions were helping keep her heart at a working speed.

A man in front of her gave a faulty step with sheer exhaustion and twisted his ankle. Sobel snarled at anybody that tried to help him, and a sour taste flooded her mouth. Who was the kind of man that would prohibit others from helping an injured man and what was he doing as an officer?

The path narrowed and the formation of men fell apart and drew into a long line of heavy footed troopers. Esther found herself with a stranger in front of her, and a stranger behind her. All she recognized was Sobel galloping without falter ahead of the men. It was as if his anger fueled his legs and propelled him forward like a plane of fury.

Running hard with her arms pumping, she met her other officer Winters by a stone with engravings in the granite. The men just ahead of her slapped their hands against the top and all seemed to give a sigh of relief. She copied their gesture and at once knew the reasoning for their sighs. Once she had reached the top of the mountain, Esther let the tension in her back relax and let gravity carry her weight. She gratefully welcomed the breeze against her over heated face and the wind drowned out the sounds of her heart thumping against her ear drums. Though her ankles were not pressed back against the sharp incline of the mountains, she found that the red clay of this Georgia mountain was difficult to tread at this greater speed.

The others seemed relieved as well as a breeze caused by their momentum hit their faces. Before the path began to swell, Esther looked over and discovered the enormity of Camp Toccoa from an above view. Rows upon rows of uniform barracks were perched on the now familiar red soil. Just to the north of the center of the camp was the circle where the stars and stripes were wrapped tiredly against the hot metal of the pole where her father dropped her off into her fate. Tears began to well in her eyes, partly from exhaustion but mostly from sorrow. Her father was perhaps homeward bound, or perhaps he halted at a bar on the side of the highway for a beer to two… or ten. Nobody really paid any mind to her father's alcohol tooth, as long as he was sober enough to sit up straight in a pew on Sunday morning.

B.o.B.

That night, everybody introduced themselves as she rubbed the sore red rings that were etched into her ankles by the stiff cork boots. The wisps of hair that surrounded her face were stiff with dried sweat. Malarkey stuck out his hand first on his way to the shower in the back of the barrack. She felt her face burn as she looked around from the sores on her feet to find a room of men with nothing but their thin boxers on. Guarnere was next; he was clearly towards the top of the established pecking order, due to his rank of sergeant and his demeanor.

While she was back home waiting to become of age to be emerged into this rigorous training, it was apparent that the men had already established a pecking order amongst themselves. She was fully aware that she was at the very, very bottom, possibly even under Private White who was mysteriously nowhere to be found.

"You got a nice handshake, ma'am. We'll keep you around for now."

Esther nodded with a small smile and wanted to mention that her father had taught her that firm handshake, but figured her superior in rank couldn't give a damn about her father.

A towering man with a gentle face that did not match his massive body walked to the back of the barrack and introduced himself on the way. His bare chest was massive, and the stub of a thick cigar hung loosely in the corners of his lips. Denver Randleman's hand seemed to devour hers, and it disappeared into his goliath palm. Esther imagined with a loose thought that he was so tough he could keep that cigar lit while he was showering.

In the distance a puppet like man named Luz could be heard cracking a joke about Sobel, with one of his spot on impressions. Muck and Penkala were chorusing their laughter for him, folding tomorrow's uniform and placing it in their footlockers. It seemed as though Muck, Penkala and Malarkey were the three grand brothers that came from separate mothers. They always carried the same handsome, but sly expression between drags from their Lucky Strikes. Esther made the observation that if you didn't smoke in Easy Compay, you were square.

Carwood Lipton was the only one Esther hadn't seen with a white cancer stick between his lips.

The line into the shower was quick moving. It seemed as though they could barely get a bar of soap across their body before the next man would yell at them for hogging the hot water. Just the thought of water on her sticky skin sounded like paradise, but she didn't want to cross the drawn lines of the pecking order to get into the line.

In the meantime she quietly folded her large uniforms and waited for whoever wanted to meet her to come. Until somebody came, Esther listened to all the conversations buzzing around her to keep note of the multiple personalities in the room. Perconte and Luz were joking friends, and their jokes bantered off one another until the joke had perished. Hoobler, with his evidently larger ears mostly kept to himself, but occasionally put in his word about Sobel. The rest of the men would respond to him with light smiles, but he was towards the bottom of the pecking order. Hoobler was quite adorable in a childish way, and his innocent demeanor made Esther want to spark a conversation with him.

Shifty made his way to the shower but stopped to offer his hand. "Evening ma'am," he had a think accent straight from the Carolina's. "Pleasure to have you with us in the company."

"Thank you," Esther said, raising her cheeks into a pleasant smile. "May I take a shower or is there a waiting list?"

"Oh, of course! Just step into line. It might be a little quick for you, ma'am."

"That's alright, I'm just swimming in this humidity. I thought Nebraska was humid."

Shifty and Esther then continued to make small talk, and the men's bare chests no longer distracted her, but her bare legs drew some lingering glances. Shifty politely walked her through the morning process so she would be prepared in the morning. Esther crossed her legs over one other, and drew the towel closer to her neck. This made the length of her bare legs longer, and she desperately wished the towel was longer.

Finally Shifty was out of the shower and it was Esther's turn. The water was tepid, but it managed to cut through the dried sweat that coated her skin. She quickly ran the soap around her body, but before she could rinse, Lieutenant Sobel's familiar bark startled her. She pressed her eyelids together tighter to avoid the sliding suds from stinging her eyes.

"Attention, troopers!" He yelled, and she rapidly cranked down the stream of water into silence. Suds still lined her body as she wrapped a towel damp with the humidity around her midsection. Esther was caught between pretending to not exist, and coming to attention like she had been ordered. She toyed with both ideas, and with a hard swallow Esther stepped out of the small showering room and into the long barrack.

"Private Fusillade, who said you could shower in these barracks?"

Shifty's name tried to tug out of her mouth, but she knew it would be pointless to throw him under the bus… she was already the one in trouble.

Sobel's furious voice continued to cut at her throat, "Your shower is over, Private. Right now. From this point on you will shower behind the barrack at night, away from the men."

Esther forced her eyes open to look in Sobel's direction. The remaining lather that begged to be rinsed off ran into her eyes, sending a stinging pain around her eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Light's out, troopers. We're running Currahee at 0500."

Esther glanced up quickly enough to see the men's Adam's apples bob in their throats at the idea of running that damn hill again. The pounding of Sobel's boots against the fresh pine floorboards broke the hanging silence.

The door slammed behind him, and Bill Guarnere's accent filtrated through the air, "What a fucking asshole. I'm real sorry about that, girl."

Shifty stepped forward, wringing a hand towel nervously in his hands, "I'm sorry, Essie. I didn't know you weren't allowed to shower in here." He gave her a guilty glace, handing her a towel, "Here, you're crying."

Embarrassed and confused by what Shifty had just called her, she quickly took the towel and rubbed her burning eyes. "I'm not crying, this damn soap is in my eyes. I'm not crying, I swear." She wiped her hands on the towel in defense before tossing it carelessly in the shared hamper. Esther didn't want the men to think she was crying, even though she was wallowing in embarrassment.

The shower head tauntingly dripped in the back room as the men silently began to fall asleep. Once the lights were flipped off, she pulled on her clean pair of navy shorts and a plain white PT shirt.

Now lying restlessly in her cot, Esther began to wish she had passed the shower all together. The soap suds in her hair began to crisp over and make her scalp itch. Sweat beading in the nape of her neck from pure frustration, she attempted to plait the knotted mess but the endeavor resulted with tears in her eyes.

Sobel was intentionally making her experience as difficult as possible, she was having a hard time figuring out the men, she was exhausted from Currahee and she was desperately homesick. She wished Dixie was sitting on the small of her back, gently picking at the tangles with a small toothed comb.

Esther sat up and swung her aching legs over the side of the cot, unable to shake the sharp ping of homesickness in her chest. As she leaned against the pine wall of the barrack, she looked out the small square window that had just lost its fog from the steam of the showers. Esther let out a sigh, which caused her neighbor to stir. She held her breath hoping he would drift off again.

Talbert's cot was to the right of hers. He was a quiet man, only lifted the conversation when it began to fall. Esther had noticed this when she watched the men, but had not formally met him yet. The moonlight reminded her that he was the man that suffered up Currahee beside her, with his striking grey eyes. Talbert propped himself up on his elbow and made a straight black eyebrow into an arch. "Homesick?" he asked plainly.

Esther nodded and ran her nails across her clammy, soap covered skin.

"The rest of the men will tell you they aren't homesick, but I'll be the first to tell you I miss Kokomo, Indiana. Time can't make you forget where you came from." He gave a small grin, "Where are you from?"

"Grand Island, Nebraska. It's too small for even a dot on the map."

His grin widened and in turn Esther's face lifted from its concrete frown. "You better try to get some rest, miss."

Esther nodded and settled into her cot as he did without any words. She leaned over to look at the row of men across the aisle. In the silence she could hear each breathing pattern, see every chest rise and fall. None of the men snored, except for a guy named Cobb that nobody seemed too fond of.

Many things about this place reminded her of home, but it was the opposite of a home. It lacked love, but now she felt a hint of compassion in the air. Bull's smoldering cigar in his makeshift ash tray reminded her of her father, and the habit he never could kick. As she watched the men sleep, her still burning eyes finally begged for closure.

Reviews make me so happy I dance. No joke.