Front Line Girl - Rewrite

Hello all; I've had yet another bright idea and decided I'll re-write yet another of my old stories.

My original featured Cobb as a main character, but this has a different main. The premise of the story is almost the same, but as it says, it's a re-write. As always, there are obvious disclaimers; this is based on the show, not real the real people, all opinions expressed by the characters are made up and this is a fiction and is in no way done to offend anyone.

If anyone read the first one, I hope you enjoy the second and if you're here from my other story Always which was also a re-write, howdy-ho :)

This may be my last upload, however. I've been here since 2013 and I almost feel like I'm too old for this sort of thing now, but I still enjoy writing (even if no one likes reading it :') )

Anywho - please enjoy!


Howdy-doodly, neighbourino

Throughout history, many soldiers have been reported as Missing in Action. It's not unusual for young men to go missing during conflict; sometimes they desert, sometimes they have been killed but their bodies haven't been recovered, sometimes, they just vanish into thin air and occasionally, they just quietly retire and no one hears from them again. Nothing unusual at all. What is unusual, is for those said soldiers who quietly retired not to quietly retire to their old lives, but move on to somewhere completely different in time and fucking space.

I didn't believe it when they first told me about it; it was too much like an episode of Doctor Who and I was half-expecting the TARDIS to come crashing through the door, followed by an onslaught of Daleks. I mean, I'm a soldier by trade; I'm not saying I'm thick, because I'm not, I'm just not Professor Brian Cox or Professor Hawkins. I'm a dog handler who spent that much time with my doggo, the lads of my section gave me the moniker Black Shuck.

I mean, to be fair, you don't really go into work on a Monday morning and expect to join a unit that sounded completely made up and get transferred to said unit by the following Monday with your best mate and your little brother who just got out of basic training. Stunned and confused were we. They didn't really tell us much other than this program had been going on for about 25 years and there were several countries in this program, one of which was the USA. The reason we were picked isn't some fantastic reason; a dog unit had never been sent back, a woman had never been sent back, there was the annual exchange programme coming up between us and the States and it had never been done during the past before. So to kill 4 birds with one stone, they were sending us to work with the US; I was a female and part of a dog unit, and then we could do the exchange programme with them in the 1940's. Job's a fish.

"We'd expect bi-annual reports from you, regarding your progress and we'll drop by every so often. After your first tour of combat, we'll review your progress; if you want to stay, you can stay until the end of the war or you come home once the main invasion is over. Although, if it interests you, you would have to opportunity to apply for residency there. You'd be a British Citizen and they'd mock up some papers for you, if you fancied it."

"Meaning, if you manage to find a decent fella, you might want to stay." Davis seemingly felt the need to translate what the good Major Sharpe said and I had to stop my eyes from rolling. Liam Davis was 1 Section's 'boss' if you would; he was the lieutenant. He was also one of my old school friends (though being a couple of years older) and he backed me since the cadets, because he knew I could do it; probably why he suggested me for this escapade.

I chomped at the bit, answering with no hesitation that I would go, so my little brother James Collier-Fraser and Nicholas Richardson decided to chance it too. After we had agreed, we spent time going back and forth between our normal job and the 'training centre'. There was a whole other secret branch that operated this; I think it was crossed over somewhere with MI6 or something. They had HQs all over the place and time, all the way back to the Civil War, where they dished out orders for those in deployment, sent letters from the families, care packages, rations, medicines and uniforms. They had a special HR department where they would organise people coming back, staying behind, some bringing their war brides or friends back or some choosing to stay with them. They also dealt with the deaths and births that happened and I was told by the guy showing us around, that they kept tabs on them for good, and every soldier in the program had their family trees on record, beginning with them.

We had an extensive series of lectures, briefings, tests and training to go through; we were give a gag order, which meant we couldn't talk about the major events of the past, we could tell them about pop culture topics and what life is like at home, but major historical events, military and civilian, were completely off the table. We weren't given any information we didn't need to know either, so we would be joining our new comrades with just a little bit more knowledge of the past. I didn't know that much, but Granddad, a Normandy veteran, had told me what it had been like on those beaches in the morning. Not that we knew which branch we were going to. I was scared, nervous and excited at the same time; I wonder what they would think of me? I was told that I would have to get used to the ideals of the times; while women smoked, they were supposed to act a certain way and they certainly weren't running about on the frontlines with the men (outside of the Soviet Union or the intelligence departments anyway). I was told that my formal wear would be a nice WAAC uniform (joy) and in summer, I would have to wear a skirt (more joy). Mum was a period costume designer and made costumes for period dramas or films, so luckily, I knew how to pull the look off and the hair.

Now I just hoped that I'd make a decent impression


October 1942

"I'm tellin' yous fellas, she's gotta be a real dyke to be in the regular infantry." Bill said aloud. We were awaiting the arrival of the 3 Limey soldiers that they were assigning to us as part of some kind of experimental exchange programme, something like out of a science fiction novel, but one of them just happened to be a woman. "Ain't no way they're gonna send us some prissy little miss; she wouldn't last 5 minutes with Sobel. And anyway, why do we gotta get the broad? Why not some other company? We all know that we're just going to end up carrying her along."

I don't think anyone had much enthusiasm for the new girl. We had lectures and things like that to say that she was one of the best in her unit, Lip had said she was going to be put with 1st Platoon, with us and an extra bed had been set up beside mine, but none of us were looking forward to it. We'd been warned about our behaviour, warned about using foul language; basically we couldn't do or say what we'd been doing before now, we had to be gentlemanly for the lady. Lip had already gone to meet the trio and show them around, but I think the collective feeling was, the longer they took the better. The door creaked open as Lip came in with a big grin, almost like he knew something we didn't know and was enjoying it.

"Alright fellas, say hello to Sgt Charlotte Edith Collier."

A head poked out from behind Lip. She had golden copper hair in a shoulder length, curled under bob with a fringe swept to the left. She wore a bright, white smile, full of cheer and friendliness and her cheeks and nose were smattered with reddy brown freckles, but her eyes struck me dead. Her right eye was a bright, emerald green and the other a dark brown. They sparkled like polished gems, with so much sunshine and light; looking at her almost made me feel like I was looking at a sunflower. She wasn't wearing a lot of makeup, a little liner on her eyes, a natural shade of lipstick, maybe a little rouge, but nothing else, not that she needed it.

"Eyup." She beamed, in a strange English accent. Apparently, they were from somewhere up in the north of England. "I'm your new dog handler…although, he's in quarantine at the mo'."

We were stunned. She certainly didn't look like a dyke…she was gorgeous.

In true Floyd Talbert fashion, he approached first and I felt a strange pang of jealousy. He introduced himself, the others and then me. Collier was absolutely tiny, I thought; she looked like she shoulda been in middle school, she looked so young and small and reminded me of Marie Doro. Even her uniform looked like it'd been made to measure, save for the green beret atop her head.

"And the fella with the wild hair over there, is George Luz."

Our eyes met and I felt sparks fly in the air around us; it just felt electric. Her hands are so small, I thought to myself, as I shook her hand, noting how soft her skin was. How did she manage to keep her skin so soft when she was in the army?

"Nice to meet you." I half-grinned, feeling a blush creep up. She grinned even brighter.

"And you." She looked around me, at the bed behind me. "I take it you're my new neighbour?"

"That's me."

"Ah, sorry in advance then." I raised a brow. "King snores so badly, it's awful."

"Sounds like a convenient excuse to me."

She laughed, "Oh, no, not me. You're lucky you're not in the same room as my brother; they might smother him."

"That bad huh?" We had all heard that two of them were related; Collier and Collier-Fraser were half-siblings, with Collier being the elder of the two.

Collier just chuckled and rubbed her brown eye, tiredly trying to stifle a yawn. Lip held up his hands. "Alright, why don't we let Collier settle in and then we can ask questions." He looked down at her with a gentle smile as she yawned. "You must be tired, right?"

"I mean, we did have to fly to and through the Bermuda Triangle just to get here, so the journey was a lot longer, but as much as I'd like a nap, from what you told me, I doubt Crap - I mean - Captain Sobel would let me." Collier sighed. "But I appreciate the gesture."

I watched, as did the others, as Collier began to unpack. There was a hair brush, a bottle of something that looked like it was for her hair, something that looked like a camera, a couple of hair ties, a little makeup bag, a book, a sketch book with a metal tin with something in it and a bundle of something rolled up. Clearly she'd packed the minimum of things she might want or need. As she unpacked further, it looked as if those essentials and her other bits of uniform was all she had, with everything else looking like it was for the dog.

I was about to ask her about the few things she'd brought, when Lip returned, telling us to get into our PT gear.

"We got 5 minutes, so I'm sorry Collier; you'll have to get changed here." Lip apologised, eyeing the rest of us to ensure we wouldn't try to look. I could feel my face grow hot, knowing that the prettiest girl I'd ever set eyes on, was undressing and putting her PT gear on behind me, while I threw off my jacket.

I heard her kick off her shoes and the rustling of her jacket falling on the bed and it took the all the will power I had not to look around. I listened as she clicked her tongue, sounding frustrated and there was a sudden loud snap and Collier yelped. "Fucks sake!" I turned to see her rubbing her thigh where her stocking's suspender had hit her, leaving a red mark. I don't know if I was more surprised the shapely legs or her swearing. If I ever used that kinda language around any woman, there'd have been hell, so for her to just come out with it so casually, I was surprised, but that was suddenly converted to embarrassment, when I noticed that she had noticed that I was looking at her legs and I turned around, red faced. I was sure she was smirking.


By the time we were all changed, Collier had gotten out of her stockings and had pulled on a pair of something that looked like knee length black long-johns and put her shorts on over it, and an oversized, baggy t-shirt, showcasing a tattoo on her right wrist and one on the inside of her left arm just under her elbow. Not that I was looking or noticed on purpose. We walked out, joining the rest of the company, on the way to run Currahee and fell into pace side by side.

"Those little legs of yours going to be alright up that mountain?" I joked, nodding up at said mountain. Collier grinned and glanced up at me.

"You seem awfully interested in my legs, Luz; you jealous of how smooth mine are compared to yours?" She joked back and I grinned.

"I don't know; you keep a helluvva lot warmer in winter when you're hairy."

"Remind me then; if we get stuck in a foxhole in the middle of winter, make sure you and the dog are in it." She winked. She was just about to say something else, when Dog Company, our arch enemies, appeared, ready for a night out on the town and goading us about it. Until, of course, they noticed the sweet little thing at my side. They started cat calling at her, making rude remarks and stupid shit like that. Collier pulled a disgusted face at them, especially when one of them shouted something else.

"Hey, nice legs you got there; what time d'they open?"

She glared at him, then thumbed over at him, looking at me and feigning curiosity; "He talkin' to you?"

"I think he meant you." She nodded and turned back around.

"Oi!" She shouted, getting his attention. Behind me, I heard a British accent like outta the movies mutter oh no. "How's it feel to know that the only time you've been between a woman's legs was when you were born?"

Well, no one was expecting that come back; but the look on the fella's face and the straight up way she said it, the whole company erupted in laughter and cheers. I had a feeling that we were going to become fast friends, as she gave me a sheepish smile, gazing up at me through those long eyelashes as she apologised.


January '43

I showed her around, and the rest was history, the two of us together all day every day. The three of them settled in and while almost exclusively together, Eddie (as she let me call her) and I had a regular group of buddies we hung out with; Chuck Grant, Floyd Talbert, Bull Randleman, Frank Perconte, Joe Liebgott, Smokey Gordon and of course, her wonder dog, King, but we did spend time with Skip Muck, Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye. The house rules; no dog on the bed, no giving the dog snacks, no dog in the mess hall, didn't last. I was the original culprit, fetching King scraps of my bacon I hadn't eaten, which led to the others doing the same and King lined up in a morning as we finished our breakfasts, with his metal dog bowl, getting the scraps Joe Domingus had saved for him. Everyone in our billet wanted King to sleep on their bed and I walked in to the room one day to find Liebgott and Skinny, arguing over who's bed King would be sleeping on. In the months that they were here, we got used to their ways of working, their behaviours and weird habits. They told us about things that were popular with them, things that they did for fun and how it was different from what we did. We even began to understand some of their phrases; chalk fuck on that apparently meant, give it up as a bad job, jobs a fish somehow meant piece of cake, Egyptian PT, was taking a nap usually with your arms crossed over and then the most startling one was, want a wet.

"God, you look frozen!" Richie exclaimed one afternoon, the two of us stopping by 2nd platoon's billet as we finished walking King in the snow. "Wanna wet?"

"Please." Ed sniffed and rubbed her little red nose with the back of her hand, before noticing we were all looking at her like she had two heads. "What?" She asked, as Richie passed her a mug of steaming hot tea. "Ta spadge."

"Didn't you hit someone the last time they said something like that to you?" Bill asked, his eyebrows in his quiff. The penny finally dropped for her and she chuckled.

"No, Bill; that was you and it was because you saw him feeling me up at the bar." She paused to sip her tea. "And a wet means a drink; because it's liquid and liquids tend to be wet? Has it really been so long since you last had it off with anyone that you have to make innuendos?"

"Why'd you think his arm was aching the other day?" Richie snorted.

"Ah, least it's his arm, not just his wrist." Eddie sniggered, sharing her tea with me. They bickered, throwing jibes back and forth at each other, until King got bored and pawed at the door, so we packed up and left, Eddie leaving her best friend with the last words we were by now used to. "Anyway Richie, at the end of the day, you can't even swim."


"What does that even mean?" I asked, amused and curious as we walked side by side to our hut; however many times she said it, I still didn't understand it. Eddie just shrugged with an 'I don't know' look, crossed with a smirk.

"I was just arguing with Davis, my platoon leader, one day and I wanted him to shut up so I said, well at the end of the day sir, you can't even swim." She chuckled. "It just stuck I guess."

"What else stuck?" I asked, after we'd fallen into a long, comfortable silence. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the quiet lulls between us, because any time I spent with Eddie was the best use of my time, it was just because I liked to listen to her talk. She was smart, real smart; she knew all kinds of stuff about all kinds of things and she often would get into debates with Webster or even Winters or Nixon. I just wished that I could talk with her about those things, instead of having to just listen, so she wouldn't have to go out of her way to talk to someone smart.

"My notorious reputation for imitating other people; my brother used to get me to pretend I was our mum and call school from work to say he was sick, he'd have a day off school while mum was at work and no one would know…she still doesn't know." She admitted. I was surprised to hear that she did impressions; I thought it was just me. I egged her on until I managed to persuade her to at least tell me who she could do. "Helen Kane, that's one of my favourites…Oh, Gracie Allen; Granddad said I was very good at her voice…Judy Garland. Betty Boop, but only because she's got a similar voice to Helen Kane. Kay Hammond, I'm not too bad with that…most of the others you won't know, unfortunately."

Even though I spent every day with her, it still never felt like enough and I was still finding things out about her; I knew real fast, that I, had it bad.