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Sniper's Target

I was awoken quietly by the sound of Spina making coffee. He tore open the plastic lined package and poured the black gravel into his steaming upturned helmet.

"Smells good, Speen," I rubbed my face before sitting up. It was nice to be awoken by the homely sound rather than mortars. I looked over at him, his hat was less plump. I smiled with guilt, pleasure and grief.

"'Morning, Lots." He turned his lips in a smile, moving the morning shadow on his face. "Want some?"

Spina offered me a tin cup with his gloveless hands. The early morning sun was shining, purple and yellow showing the pink on his cheeks and finger tips.

I wrapped my equally cold hands around the sweating tin, "Any word on Welsh?"

"He'll make it, thankfully. Gonna be off the line for a while."

"Another good officer off the line- what will we get now?" I rolled my eyes, never impressed with anybody that hadn't been at Toccoa.

"Who knows, maybe they will start promoting some of the guys." Ralph looked down into the black water that matched his eyes. "Bull came by earlier this morning. He didn't want to wake you, he just stood there and watched you sleep. You were snoring and all, and he still wanted to watch you."

My cheeks raised a little, "Well, I didn't get to tell him goodnight… with all the stuff that happened with Harry."

"You should go see him, Lots. Bastard's worried about you."

I downed the rest of the coffee, and remembered that today was the day I had told myself I was going to try. I changed my socks from the ones around my neck, brushed my teeth and drug a frozen stick of balm across my lips. My hair was tangled, and balls of ice clung to it. Hurrying, excited to see Denver, I yanked at the knots with my Army issued comb.

The air was cold, so cold it felt heavy when I took a breath. It hung in my nostrils and then stung my lungs. My lungs itched for a different feeling after these weeks of painfully cold intakes.

"Yo, Speen! Can I bum a smoke off of you?"

His eyebrows arched in a sheer look of shock. "What the fuck? You said you'd never smoke!"

"I've said a lot of things, Ralph. Please?"

He dug through his stuff, shortly after finding a half empty pack of Lucky Strikes. "Here, finish these. Perco tried to pack them for me and fucked up. I can't stand 'em like that."

I shrugged, then reached out for them before standing up. "Thanks, Speen."

I stood from our Medic foxhole, it was noticeably colder when out in the breeze. It was not strong, but it still bit through my pants and gnawed at my face. I dug in my deep pockets to find my Zippo lighter. I never had used it before. Bull was the only one who had, when he couldn't find his own to light his cigar. Cupping my hand around the end of the cancer stick, I flipped open the silver box with a shake, which I learned from Denver. With a quick inhale, the warm smoke filled my mouth and warmed my index finger and thumb.

The smell always reminded me of my father. It always clung to him, his skin and his hair. But he didn't smoke Lucky Strikes, so it smelled different. This smelled like Bill and Joe Toye and Liebgott. Lucky Strikes smelled like Easy Company, and as I continued to puff on the cigarette, I was comforted. I had overcome a connection to my father. Though it seemed small, it wasn't to me.

I saw Eugene walking mindlessly ahead of me, "Gene!"

He hardly looked up, dark circles hooded his eyes. He looked like a dead man walking. I walked over to him. He had a piece of blue fabric hanging from his left coat pocket. "Gene, you look like shit."

He nodded, seemingly agreeing with me. "The hospital got bombed last night, Loretta. Renee's dead."

I drew my arms around his neck. Eugene did not move for a second, his arms hung tiredly and limply at his sides. "Gene…" I knew that he loved her. I didn't know what to say, there was too much grief in the quietness of his body.

In an instant later, he finally wrapped his weak arms around my torso, and squeezed. His cheek rested against my neck as he buried his face in my hair. I felt his body shake, and my heart sunk. I could not for the life of me find the words to say, but really there was nothing to be said.

He pulled back and wiped his nose, his eyes were now glistening but now even heavier. He appeared as though he had weights pulling on every inch of his body. He looked around to make sure nobody could see him. Nobody wants to know the medic is on the brink of what they all feared.

"I'm going to go see Babe. I've got to apologize to him for something." For once in my time with Gene, he did not look into my eyes no matter what angle I tried to catch them.

I put my hand on his neck, my thumb rested against his wet jaw line. "Ok, you hang tight today and rest. Me and Spina are capable of holding down the fort. Promise me you will eat and rest, Gene."

He nodded, finally gave me a glance and turned towards Babe's foxhole. He had let down his guard and called Babe by his nickname. That made me smile inside. As I watched him walk away, silhouetted by the rising sun I felt guilty for nagging him about the penicillin for Bill. I would have to walk to HQ and get it myself.

I trudged through the forest to Denver's foxhole. The drifts were so high, and the ice so thick on the top, that in places it supported my weight. As I walked, I came upon a trail of blood. It was Harry's. I felt sick, seeing my boot prints beside the frozen blood. I reached for Ralph's pack and lit another cigarette.

I saw the buffalo of a man shivering in his foxhole, cradling his rifle as he watched the line intently. My loud footsteps alerted him and the moment I saw his blue eyes my face softened.

"Boone," he addressed me simply, how I liked it. Denver rested his M1 against the frozen wall of the hole and stood to meet me.

My mind was still on Eugene, "Good morning."

He drew me in an embrace; the space where his arms had been crossed was radiating some warmth. I sighed and waited for him to say something.

"You smell different," he held me at arm's length and analyzed me. "I thought you didn't smoke?"

"Hell, I've been smoking for the past two years… being around you and the men- I'm a second hand chain smoker." I smiled up at him and he was doing the same as he looked over his large chest at me.

"Fair."

My smile faded, "The hospital in the town got the shit bombed out of it last night, that's what we were hearing. Gene lost a friend he had made."

Bull put his gloved hand at the nape of my neck, "Shit."

"Bill is still pissing needles, so I've got to go get some penicillin. Doc is in no condition to go on his own."

Bull took a step closer to me and my chest jolted. "You can't go by yourself; we're practically on top of the Germans."

"Better than being under them, yes?" I unbuttoned his jacket and slid my arms in-between his shirt and wool, "I'll be fine. Gene needs a day off and Spina should stay on the line."

"Boone, it's way too goddamn dangerous."

"It's also my job to take care of these men."

He opened his mouth to argue, but I interjected with a kiss on his cheek.

"It's early yet, the Krauts are still eating their breakfast sausages. Bull, I'll meet you back here after I see Bill."

He wouldn't give up, "I'll go with you. Boone, you'll worry me sick."

I shook my head, and tugged at the fabric of his shirt at his side. "If you can convince Winters to let one of his best soldiers come off the line to go on a stroll with me, be my guest."

That finally silenced him.

He looked down at me again, his blue eyes dashing from one of my eyes to the other. I tightened my grip on his shirt and jerked him a little bit. He caught my hint and leaned down to capture my lips. I had missed him so much.

I didn't want to pull away, but I had to as the sun was rising rapidly behind him. "I'll be back."

He begged me with his eyes to stay.

Tearing myself away from his stare and his warmth, I walked due West- away from the patchy line. HQ would be about an hour away, and all jeeps were either wrecked last night in the bombing or somewhere else down the line.

It was cold, but the faint sun warmed up my right shoulder, where my blood stained cross was. I thought about Harry, and his pupil's dilated by shock. I thought about what bodily shock felt like, how Gene told me it paralyzed you and shut your mind off. I thought about Toccoa and how Gene training me seemed so distant.

As I continued to walk through the varying depths of snow, I thought about how Eugene and Renee's future was shattered in an instant. I remembered Gene having her blue scarf in his pocket, and how that had shown me he had really loved her. Eugene was rarely a sentimental person.

I smelled campfire smoke up ahead. Regiment was making their breakfast, taking and eating the best items from the K-9 rations. It made me think about how thick the grounds were at the bottom of the cup of coffee Spina had made me.

A snap of a twig sounded behind me and I whipped around to see what was there. A dark figure hung in the tree, resting a long rifle across a branch. Before I could think, fire ripped through my side between two of my ribs. It was an unbearable sheer and burning fire. It felt like somebody ripped open my skin and branded my bare flesh. I fell backwards and gasped for breath. I could feel blood trickle down and around my waist, pooling in the small of my back.

Shock did not shut off my thoughts as the textbook had insisted. So as I stared up into the dead pine trees towering above me, I could think of only one thing. I had forgotten to tell Denver Randleman I loved him.

Very short, I know. I hope you enjoyed!