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Dying Thoughts

I am laying in a hot pool of my own blood. I can feel it melting the snow underneath me. I wonder why blood was made red. I know the medical terms, the scientific reasoning behind that question; but I want to know why whoever and whatever created the world made blood red.

I think about Julien. I think about how he suffered, or if he did. I am laying here in my own agony, but Julien was reaching out in desperation for his brothers. I am laying alone.

I think about Babe. I would hope Babe is going to miss me. But, he's already grieving enough. I don't want Babe to miss me anymore.

I think about Eugene. He'll be sick. His face will drain of what little color it has when he finds out I've been killed. God, I'll miss Eugene. My loyal friend, my keeper, my touch of soul in the world.

I think about Bull. I think about how his lips tasted at our final kiss. How the kiss was so deep I could feel the tender warmth of the inside of his lips compared to the chapped cold. I think about how I never deserved him or his love. I think back to us in the barn in Holland, how he almost slipped from my life. I cherished the time I had with Bull, I really did.

Now I am slipping away from my own life.

I wonder if they will find me, before it is too late. I wonder what they will do with my body. Will my lifeless carcass be sent home? The ground is too frozen to bury me here. I have dug many frozen foxholes, I would not wish that on my brothers to dig one 6 feet deep. Will I forever be MIA?

I think about Johnny and how my leaving was never fair to him. Nothing has ever been fair to us; this generation. Suddenly my arms start jerking, my legs twitching uncontrollably. Death throws… I am dying. Alfie is waiting for me to return to him, and now it seems like he will be waiting for the remainder of his life.

My chest is constricting, my heart slowing as it is emptying of blood. I hear the sniper's empty round fall and hit the tree he is perched in. I hear scraping as he slides down his predator's nest and walks towards me. He is panting heavily, his grey wool overcoat swipes against my face as he looks at me. I cannot move but I can still see. Am I breathing?

He produces a purely evil smile and gives my lifeless body a final kick. Pain shoots through my body; yes, I am still alive. Finally he turns towards the German line and leaves me. Though I feel like death, I continue to play dead until his frozen footsteps fade into the distance.

Do I scream? Do I try to get up? I am somewhere in the middle between the line and HQ. I tell myself not to close my eyes or they will never open again. This scares me away from the drowsiness invading my mind.

I am growing tired of the view above me which is tall and broken pine trees. Their needles have been seared off by the heat of an explosion, and the white empty sky is too plain to be my last sight. I would like to die looking at the horizon. Though these are horrible thoughts, they are all that fill my mind. No medical textbook could ever explain or describe these final thoughts.

I suddenly grow angry. Perhaps this is my final burst of adrenaline? As I clench my teeth together, I flip over onto my stomach. My thin gloves get soaked in the melted snow and blood mixture below me. The form I leave behind is a grotesque snow angel. I drag my extremely heavy body over to the tree that was the perch for my death. Digging my elbows into the snow, I think about how Strayer made us crawl through pig guts on Thanksgiving. Tears sting my eyes when I think about how Bull and Muck were beside me on that day, and how they both helped me through the course.

Now leaning against the sappy tree I am able to reach around to retrieve my medical bag. Angry adrenaline is still pounding throughout me, so I remove my jacket down to my olive drab button down. The pleasant color is now drenched in rusty red. I welcome the cold air of the forest on the burning wound. I tear open a packet of sulfur powder and begin packing heavy gauze on the hole.

I know I have two remaining morphine syrettes in my bag. Guilt floods my mind as I screw the cap off and hover it above my thigh. If I do end up dying I would be wasting one of our final doses. But I know the relief the thick needle brings and how badly I want that relief. Finally swallowing my concern I jab it in my fleshy limb.

Relief instantly washes around my body and I lean my head back to take a heavy breath. The breathing comes easily and I take into account that the bullet did miss my lung. Certainly two of my ribs are broken but I am now not losing as much blood.

What I had forgotten is that a full dose of morphine completely makes me immobile. My eyes beg for closure and I have absolutely no control as the icy world around me fades into darkness.

B.o.B.

"Oh, hell…"

I open my eyes to find Malarkey on his knees at my side. My lips are incredibly dry, but it made me thankful. I had been breathing out of my mouth.

"MEDIC!" the red headed man from Astoria, Oregon called out.

I coughed, "Donnie, I am the medic."

His face was pale as he ran his hands up and down my upper arms, I assume in an attempt to warm me up.

"Oh, Loretta. You're blue. What the hell happened?"

Relief washed through me as I heard the familiar sound of Eugene's canteen bang against the metal clips of his bag.

"Sniper." I croaked; my throat was so dry. I nodded downwards to my canteen. Malarkey took note and removed his own, careful not to move me. He hit it against the tree to break up the ice before unscrewing the cap. He held the cold metal to my lips and I took a drink. I was thankful; I always knew I wanted to take a drink before I died.

"You're going to be fine, Loretta."

It was if he had read my mind.

"Brave…" Eugene's usually peaceful Cajun voice was tainted with worry

I wiped my lips, "I used one of our last syrettes, Gene." I pointed towards the indication on my chest. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head in disbelief at my guilt. "Alright, Sergeant let's get her back to the line."

"What about a hospital?" Malarkey sounded angry and shot Gene a dirty look.

Eugene brought his arms under my armpits and began lifting. "It got bombed last night, there ain't no goddamn hospital. We ain't got nothing." He shot a look up at Malarkey, "Sergeant? A little help?"

Don swung his M1 on his back and stepped over my legs. "Lottie, can you walk?"

I swallowed in fear, "Let's try it."

They brought me to my feet, but the instant Malarkey brought my arm over his shoulders I was forced to cry out in pain. "I think the bullet broke my ribs."

The two men looked at each other. "She'll have to be carried."

"We'll take turns," Malarkey said. He looked as exhausted as Eugene.

Malarkey was first to scoop me up into the bridal style position. He carried me off in the direction I had come from.

"We were worried sick about you, Loretta. You had been missing for three hours."

Eugene placed his hand on the top of my head as Don continued to carry me. I did not protest. "It's a miracle you survived, Brave."

I opened my eyes, "I had a good teacher." I had hoped I made Eugene smile.

With that he traded places with Don. I had never realized how strong Eugene was. Though he had a slender build he surprised me with the ease that he lifted me with. The self-administered morphine was making me so drowsy I could no longer stay awake once again. I rolled my head into Eugene's chest and curled my nose at the fact he smelled like stale blood.

"What the hell happened to Loretta?" I recognized Talbert's voice.

"Sniper," Don said plainly.

Suddenly men were climbing from their foxholes to see him. Eugene continued to carry me in silence. I kept my face pressed against his chest, overwhelmed.

"Somebody go get Bull," I heard Liebgott say. My heart jumped. His fear had become reality.

Eugene brought me to Winter's foxhole. He did not protest as he exited it, a limp map in his hands. Nixon took one look at me and immediately took a drink from his flask. Their foxhole was lined with a canvas tarp, and I was pleasantly surprised by the difference it made as Eugene carefully eased me down.

I leaned against the frozen wall and finally opened my eyes to find nearly all of first platoon staring down at me. "Where's Bull?" Grant hissed. They all looked as though they were looking at a ghost.

Eugene began removing my shirt and the cold nipped at my bare skin. He paused and hissed at the men, "Leave, please."

They all gave a final ghastly look and turned to leave. I called after them, "Don't worry boys, it was a shitty sniper."

I actually thanked god it was a sniper with a poor shot when I heard very familiar heavy footfalls coming near the foxhole. "Boone…" Bull breathed before sliding down beside me.

Eugene disregarded us as he continued to clean and dress the wound. "It's not that bad, Brave. 10 stitches and some tight wrapping and you'll be alright."

Denver took my hand and held it up to his lips. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes as Eugene tied off their first piercing stitch. "I knew you shouldn't have gone."

I tried to laugh but it came out as a cough, "Denver Randleman, this is the only time I will admit that you were right."

For the first time in the war, I saw the rims of his blue eyes turn red and mist. "Boone, I-I am so glad you're going to be alright."

I reached for one of his big paws for hands and held it to my cheek. "I thought I was going to die. Bull…" I wasn't going to even try to explain the thoughts I had laying there. "I love you."

He settled on the opposite side Eugene was finishing up on and moved my head to fit in the crook of his neck. "I love you too, Boone. More than you'll ever know."

Eugene began wrapping massive amounts of torn sheets around my torso, keeping my fracture ribs in place. I held up a hand, "Don't waste it all on me."

Gene looked defeated and torn, but I could see the subtle agreement in his eyes. He tied me back up together and began dressing me. Bull interrupted him as he quickly took my shirt and jacket from Eugene's hands. Sadness and hurt was etched across Gene's face as he gave me a final look.

Bull zipped my coat clear up to my throat, "You need to be taken off the line."

I shook my head, "There is no 'off the line'."

Denver knew I was right. He settled beside me again and held both of my hands in his and looked over at me.

"I must look like shit."

"You look alive, and that's what matters."

I smiled and looked over at him. Thank god I get to see these blue eyes again.

It started snowing without remorse and powdered the canvas around us. I had hoped Winters would not be mad for me taking his space, but I knew he wouldn't be.

My body recoiled deeper into Bull as I heard a shot go off in the distance. He drew me in closer and hushed me.

"Aw, geez it's Hoob! He's shot!"

"Sniper?"

"No, he- he shot himself!"

I shoved Bull away and immediately tried to stand up. My freshly sewn up flesh protested loudly, as did Denver as he caught hold of me. "Loretta, stay down!"

"Medic!" Perconte shouted.

"Let me go! I've got to go to him!"

Adrenaline had been my saving grace this day. I yanked away from Denver and ran over to the screaming coming from my dear comrade.

"Hoobler? Hoob, what happened?" I held his face, trying to get him to look at me and not the blood gushing from his leg.

He squirmed and panted, "Shit, it just went off. I wasn't touching it or nothing! Jesus, it hurts like a son of a bitch!"

"I know, I know, Hoob. Gene's coming too, you're alright!" I ran my purple fingers against his scruffy cheeks before standing and going to the wound.

Eugene arrived and gave me a glare that told me I should be resting. "What, did you think it was German leg?"

"Hey, you're gonna be fine, just stay with me, c'mon Hoob!" I tore away his pant leg with Gene. My mind was hazy, and I realized I was being more of a hindrance to Eugene than a help. I crawled back up to his head once more and held it in my lap.

His eyes began to flutter, "Hey Lip? You said I was a great shot, right?"

"The best I know," Carwood said confidently.

I could feel it. I could feel him slipping away against my fingertips. His movements were limited. I stroked his face with the back of my hand, "C'mon Hoobs, stay with me."

Tears flooded my eyes as I watched his own eyes flutter closed for a final time.

"No, no, no, no," I yelled through my chattering teeth. "Gene! Do something!" I shouted, choking on my sobs. I grasped his scarf before rubbing my fingertips behind his ears once more.

Eugene leaned back on the heels of his boots and wiped his hands on his pants. "Brave, he's gone. There's nothing we could do. It hit the main artery."

Lipton lifted the Luger and looked at it with pure disgust. A broad pair of hands fell on my back. Buck Compton lifted me up and turned me over to who I thought was Bull. My eyes were blurred with tears. I sucked in a shaky sob and inhaled, yes, it was Denver.

B.o.B.

I sat between Malarkey and Penkala on the rim of a foxhole. The sun was gone, though we did not even see it that day. The snow continued to come down in an unforgiving manner. Bull was further down the line, but my grieving heart was comforted by the talking around me… even if it was pure bitching about Dike. Why was easy always being 'lead' by shit men?

"I'm telling you guys, we're screwed."

Penkala shifted, "If you ask me, I'm glad Lieutenant Dike is never around."

"You know what? We're doing alright… even with Foxhole Norman." I patted Malarkey, thankful for his positivity.

Bill drew his arms tighter around his chest, "Yeah, Don. We're doing alright. We're doing alright now. In case you ain't noticed there's a little town down there, right?" Guarnere's voice rose and his thick accent was condescending, "In this town are these guys, and these guys are called Germans. And these Germans got tanks-"

"I know."

Bill shook his head, not giving up. "And our sides going to want to go into that town. And I'll take one guess who they're gonna want to go knocking on the goddamn door.

I rubbed my face in frustration and Bill pounded on an imaginary door.

Malarkey leaned forward, "I know, Bill. Alright, it's me you're talking to here."

"Jesus Christ, gotta do all this with a CO who's got his head so far up his fucking ass that lump in this throat is his goddamn nose."

Penkala chuckled and I managed to crack a smile. Bill was rather comical when he was so worked up, but it was true. This situation was not a funny joke. I leaned against Malarkey and watched as Lipton stepped over a fallen tree limb.

"Hey, first sergeant," Skip called out, shivering.

"Hey, boys."

There was a chorus of 'hey, sarge' and 'hey, Lip.'

He crouched down next to Bill who had finally cooled off. "Hey, Muck, what's the word?"

"Oh, you know. Sitting around freezing our asses off, signing Dike's praises."

Lipton looked down at his boots and nodded his head. "Oh yea… Lieutenant Dike."

I dug a little deeper into Don's side, shivering so badly I could hardly breathe.

"Well, I'll tell you. I wouldn't want to be a replacement officer comin' in here." He placed his rifle across his lap, "Get thrown in with guys who've know each other for what? Two years?" I nodded and grinned. "You've been in combat together since Normandy." Carwood shrugged, "He's supposed to just show up and lead them? How does a guy do that? How could anyone really hope to gain the respect of the toughest… most professional, most dedicated sons of bitches in the entire ETO?"

We all looked around at each other, trying not to suppress their pride. "Huh? If you ask me, a guy'd have to march off to Berlin… and come back with Hitler's mustache or something."

Bill led with a loud cackle while the rest of us smiled through chattering teeth.

"Anyway, listen. You guys don't worry about Dike. Alright?"

"Yeah."

Lipton nodded, "We all do our jobs, and everything will be fine." He patted Bill's knee before standing to leave. "Loretta, how's the wound?"

I couldn't stop my teeth from chattering long enough to reply, so I just quietly nodded.

"See ya, sarge," Skip called as Lipton slung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Yeah, boy."

I finally stopped chattering as Malarkey swung his arm around my shoulders, "Hell of a guy."

"I wish he was our CO," Penkala added.

Bill agreed, "He practically is."

He was right, Lipton was but he didn't have the rank or the title for us to say he was. Guarnere lit a cigarette and leaned forward to offer it to me.

"Sorry I couldn't get to the penicillin, Bill." I said as I gratefully took it.

He shook his head at me. "Loretta, I can't believe you almost got killed so my pecker wouldn't hurt. You're a hell of a broad."

I smirked, that was a good compliment coming from Guarnere.

Malarkey proudly and gently shook me, "Yeah, this girl gets sniped and bandages her own goddamn bullet hole!"

I hung my head as Don continued to brag, "Bleeding to death and she gives herself morphine. Goddamn, you're something else Lottie."

I looked up and smiled at him, "Thanks, Don. You're not too bad yourself. And hey, I would have died if it wasn't for you and that's the goddamn truth."

Warm smoke filled my lungs as I took a long drag. I was thankful to be alive and surrounded by these men even if we were freezing our ass off in the Ardennes Forest.

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