Disclaimer: I own nothing. I do not wish to offend anyone with this story. I admire deeply the men from the real Easy Company and do not mean any disrespect. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and is based entirely on the actors portrayal from the TV show.

Upottery, England, June 4th 1944

"Easy Company!" Lieutenant Meehan called them all to attention. Claire stood at attention with the rest of the Company. "Listen up. The Channel coast is socked in rain and fog, high winds on the drop-zone. No jump tonight. The invasion has been postponed. We're on a twenty-four hour stand-down."

"Son of a bitch," Bill Guarnere cursed under his breath.

"And here I got all gussied up for nothin'," Claire grumbled. "At least I get to take this stuff off… Only to put it back on tomorrow. Stuff weighs more than I do."

"At least you don't have to jump with all the extra ammo, grenades, and guns," Malarkey pointed out.

"Yes, but I am carrying my weight in medical supplies," she retorted. She looked around to see men unsure of what was happening. Platoon Sergeants trying to gather them up while they were still figuring out what to do. "Last time things got this disorganized, we were back at Camp Mackall with him."

"Christ, don't remind me of him," Guarnere grumbled.

They headed back to the barracks to change out of their jumpsuits and into their green and brown ODs. Claire caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing herself now. Her once long black hair was cut short so she wouldn't have anything sticking out under her helmet. Her pale skin was smeared with the black charcoal powder. Claire washed it off to reveal her sharp, angular features. Her arms and legs, which had been long and thin were now built with muscle giving her a harder, leaner appearance. She couldn't even picture the small girl she'd once been.

It had been a very long two years.

New Orleans, Louisiana, February22nd 1942

The news of Pearl Harbour being bombed struck a chord with everyone, particularly with Claire Rousseau. Her brother, James Rousseau, had been one of the casualties. For two months, she'd felt numb. Going through the motions each day. Now, she was going to do something.

Her parents had died long before. First, her mother died in childbirth in 1929, the baby, a little girl, lived for two hours before she died as well. Then her father was killed in a fire in 1939. By the time her father passed, Claire was eighteen years old. She had other biological family, but she hasn't spoken to them in years. She was alone now.

Claire was training to be a nurse in New Orleans. She trained to work in the emergency room. The chaos, the improvising, she excelled at it. Her program was finishing up in April. After finishing her night shift, Claire walked into the recruiter's' office and enlisted in the Army Nurses Corp. The recruitment age for nurses was twenty-one, and today happened to be her twenty first birthday. There was no one left to tell her that she couldn't, or shouldn't do it. Claire needed to do this. She owed it to her brother and to all of the other men who died on that base.

May 1942, Colorado

Upon enlisting, Claire was sent to work at a Military Hospital in Colorado. She worked as a surgical nurse. She excelled in the O.R. She didn't talk to many of the other women and kept her head down. Claire was here for one purpose, to help save the lives of the men who were fighting. She couldn't be a soldier, but she could help save them.

She put in a request to be transferred to a field hospital. That was why she wasn't surprised when Major Rogers, the chief of surgery at the hospital, asked to see her. She assumed she was getting her reassignment papers.

Claire walked into his office and stood at attention. What she noticed was that he wasn't alone. There were three other men, one was wearing Colonel stripes, another the stripes of a Major, while the other was wearing that of a General. She saluted them all.

"At ease," Major Rogers told her. Claire shifted into the at ease position. "Nurse Rousseau, I'd like to introduce you to General Lee, Colonel Sink, and Major Horton of the 101st Airborne."

The Airborne? She'd read about Airborne training in Life Magazine, it was gruelling and difficult. The paratroopers were the best the Army had to offer.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sirs," she spoke.

"The pleasure's ours, Lieutenant Rousseau," General Lee stated. "I've heard that you've performed above and beyond since joining the Nurse Corps."

"Thank you, sir."

"And that you came in from a top ranking hospital and graduated top of your class," he kept going.

"Yes I did, sir, thank you."

"It also says here that you've requested transfer to a field hospital on the front line, may I ask why?" General Lee continued.

"I want to help in any way I can, sir, and I feel like I can make more of a difference there," she explained. "May I ask what this is about, sir?"

"Of course. The Airborne is a brand new concept in American Military History. And as such, we train only the best," General Lee explained.

"Sir?"

"The US Military has decided to select nurses to join the ranks and be trained to be on the frontline," he continued. "The idea is to see how women can handle the woes of battle and if it might help in keeping morale up among the men. The 506th Division of the 101st Airborne has been selected to participate."

Claire tried her best to hide her shock. Women were not usually on the frontline. The closest they would get would be field hospitals.

"Sir, I could join the paratroopers?" She questioned.

"If you pass the training," he countered, "like everyone else, and earn your wings, then, yes, you will be a paratrooper."

The way he said it, Claire knew none of them expected her to pass training. This was a chore for them, but they were the best, and despite what they might think, Claire was the best. She could easily stay and work out of a field hospital, but that wasn't enough for her. Why were men the only ones who could fight? She wouldn't pick up a gun and shoot the enemy, but she would be under fire getting to the men. If it were James, he would've gone for it.

"If you succeed, you will of course be given a pay raise," General Lee continued. "Not the same as the other officers, of course, but…"

"May I say something sir?" She asked.

"Go on," He replied.

"Sir, I don't care about the money. When does training start?" Claire asked.

The men gave her a surprised look, as though they didn't expect her to accept.

"Nurse Rousseau, you are aware that this training is incredibly physical, and you will be the only woman on the base?" Major Rogers explained slowly. "The men will not treat you with respect, not like they would in a Field or Evac Hospital."

"Sir, I've always been told respect must be earned, not given," she told them. "If I have the option to work alongside the men who are giving their lives for this country, how can I not take it?"

June 1942 – Camp Toccoa, Georgia

Anxiety tightened her stomach into knots as she got off the bus at the camp. She'd been the only one on the bus. Over the last two months, she prepared herself physically as best she could. Claire would run every day, and then she would do physical training. It was rigorous, but if she wanted to succeed, it was something she needed to do.

Claire climbed out and admired the camp. She could see row upon row of large tents used for housing soldiers. She stood with her canvas bag soaking it all in. There were men running through the obstacle course, shooting at the firing range. A few more were walking around dressed in green uniforms. Claire knew she had to report to Colonel Sink's office.

A group of men passed her and turned around to give her a sideways look.

"You lost, darlin'?" One of them asked. "Hair salon's back that way."

Claire suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"Actually, could you direct me to HQ?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah, sure, straight down then to the right," the man pointed. Claire smiled gratefully and walked down the path. She knew men were ogling her as she walked by. She ignored them and kept on her way.

Claire arrived at the office of Colonel Sink. She knocked on the door and was let in. She recognized Colonel Sink from her meeting with General Lee and Major Rogers. The other two she didn't know.

"Ah, Lieutenant Rousseau, I trust your trip was pleasant?" Sink said.

"Yes, sir, it was," she replied.

"Lieutenant Rousseau, this is Major Strayer, Second Battalion XO and Lieutenant Sobel," Colonel Sink introduced. "Lieutenant Sobel, this is Second Lieutenant Claire Rousseau. She will be joining Easy Company."

Lieutenant Sobel's eyes went hard. He was not pleased.

"Sir… she's a woman," he pointed out.

"Yes, Lieutenant we are aware," Major Strayer replied. "This comes directly from General Lee."

Major Strayer did not want her here either.

"She is to receive no special treatment, no coddling. She has been made aware that if she fails to meet all requirements, she will be sent back to The Nurses Corp," Sink explained.

"Yes, sir," Sobel agreed.

"Now, show Lieutenant Rousseau to her quarters in the officer's barracks," Sink ordered. "As there is no room, Lieutenant, you will be staying with the men. A curtain will be installed soon for some privacy."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Both Sobel and Claire saluted the Colonels before walking out of the office. Sobel stomped down the hall like a child who was having a tantrum. She kept up the pace, feeling the disdain radiating off of him. They arrived at the officer's barracks. There were six bunks, all but one occupied. She would be bunking with men. Claire knew she would not get her own quarters, nor would she have wanted them. She was thankful for the curtain, at least then she could have some semblance of privacy.

"You are to keep your area to army standards," Sobel said. "You are in my company now, which means you will follow my orders. If it was up to me, you would trollop back to wherever you came from. However, until you wash out, which you will, you will not bring this company down. You will not fraternize or distract the men with your feminine wiles. This is the Army, not a matchmaking service for some woman to find her husband."

Claire swallowed the anger bubbling in her stomach.

"Sir, I am not here to find a husband. I am here to work, to perform my duty, same as you or any of the men here," she told him.

Sobel's nostrils flared. His chest was puffed up as though to establish dominance. "Lieutenant, change into your ODs. Be out and ready for inspection with the men. You have ten minutes."

Sobel walked out of the barracks. What a prick. She dropped her bag on her new cot. Claire opened it and grabbed her new uniform. She was stripping out of her dress uniform when she heard footsteps coming in. Claire turned around, standing in her white undershirt. There were two men standing in the entrance way. One of them had ginger hair, the other short black hair. They were both a few inches taller than her. They stared awkwardly at her, as though unsure of where to look. She quickly tried to cover herself up.

"Hi," she said awkwardly. She held out one hand for them to shake. The other tried to cover her indecent state of dress. "Lieutenant Claire Rousseau."

They both stared at her. The ginger man was the first to move. He grasped her hand with a big friendly smile. "Lieutenant Richard Winters."

The second man then shook her hand. "Lieutenant Lewis Nixon. If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here?"

"Changing," she replied. "I'm the Combat nurse, I guess you could call it that, attached to Easy Company."

"Combat Nurse?" Lieutenant Nixon questioned. "Never heard of that."

"It's something new," she explained. "Now, if it makes you uncomfortable, I suggest you leave the room while I change."

Lieutenant Winters and Nixon backed out of the room. Claire smirked and continued to get changed. Claire tied her long dark locks into a tight bun, ensuring that not a single hair was out of place. Her nerves were shot over meeting the rest of the men. She knew what to expect, that they would not like having her there. They thought women were not meant to see combat. Claire was going to prove them wrong.

Though Claire knew she wouldn't carry a rifle into battle, she had to have one during training. She would have to pass the rifle portion of training. The men were already gathered, standing in formation when she arrived with Lieutenant Winters and Lieutenant Nixon. Almost like clockwork, Claire saw all eyes turn to her. Winters and Nixon went and stood in front of their platoons.

"That a broad?" One of them asked.

"The Hell she doin' here?"

Claire ignored them as she took a spot just on the left side of the first platoon. She heard someone smack the back of their neck. Claire looked over to see Lieutenant Nixon smacking away a mosquito. She was sweating like a pig in the uniform. The helmet barely fit with the hair tucked underneath. It sat uncomfortably on her head.

"You people are at the position of attention!" Lieutenant Sobel's voice boomed as he stomped over to conduct his inspection. Claire adjusted her position. Sobel blew right past her, ignoring her completely.

Claire listened as Sobel bullied members of the Company. Soldier after soldier got their weekend passes revoked. He even went so far as to taunt a soldier because his last name is slang for bullshit. The last one, belonging to a Joseph Liebgott was a rusted bayonet.

"Do you want to kill Germans?" Sobel asked him.

"Yes, sir," Liebgott responded.

"Not with this rusty piece of shit," Sobel chastised and handed him back the bayonet. He then turned tail and headed straight to her. He got right in her face. Claire raised her rifle for inspection. "Name."

He already knew her name, but she knew what he was doing. He was going to belittle her in front of the men.

"Rousseau, Claire B." She told him.

"Is that hair I see sticking out of your helmet, Rousseau?" He asked. Claire bit her tongue to keep the sarcastic remark down.

"No excuse, sir," was all she could say.

"Didn't I tell you not to be a distraction to the men?" Sobel asked.

"Yes, sir," she answered calmly.

"Then why are you standing in front of them? Do you want them looking at you?"

"No, sir. I'm standing where the other officers are standing, sir," she explained.

"Your weekend pass is revoked. Move to the back," he ordered. Claire held his hard stare.

"Yes, sir." Claire kept her head held high as she walked between First and Second Platoon to the very back of the company. She didn't look at any of the men as she walked by. It was humiliating enough to have to do it without seeing the loathing gazes from the men.

"Because of the infractions of these men and woman," Sobel started speaking once Claire stood behind the back line. "Anyone in the company who had a weekend pass has lost it. Change into your PT gear. We're running up Currahee."

Claire looked up at the large daunting mountain. She had to run up that?

"Move out," she heard Lieutenant Winters say.

Claire went back to her barracks, Winters and Nixon were there too as they quickly changed into their PT. The curtain had yet to be installed so she had them turn around as she changed.

"So, you met Sobel, you sure you want to keep at it?" Nixon asked. He hadn't meant it to sound as sincere as it came out.

"I don't scare easy, Lieutenant Nixon," she assured while she laced up her new boots. "Only way I'm leavin's if they drag me out kicking and screaming or they kill me. He can say whatever he wants, everyone can, but I'm not goin' anywhere."

She swore she saw the corner of Lieutenant Nixon's mouth twitch to a smile. Claire turned away as she stripped out of her combat gear and into the shorts and t-shirt. The shorts were shorter than what she was used to. So much for modesty. Claire walked out of the barracks and joined the rest of the men in PT formation.

She hadn't had the chance to learn what it was, so she asked Lieutenant Winters and he gave her a quick explanation. She could hear the catcalls coming from the other soldiers that were leaving the base.

"Christ, I thought Johnny was lying," one of them said.

"Hey, no wonder Easy don't need a weekend pass. How's it goin' dollface?"

Claire ignored the calls. Being a woman meant getting men yelling obscene things at them. She'd grown tolerant of it. Being a woman meant she had to. In the formation, Sobel made it his mission to ensure that Claire was right at the back. She ran alongside three men, who kept looking her way. She paid them no mind.

The run was grueling, but not impossible. She kept up with the steady pace, much to the surprise and in some cases anger of the men. She'd been running four miles almost every day for the past two months in preparation for this training. Claire had always been athletic. She supposed that's what happened when a girl spends the majority of her life with just her brother and father. They would play sports, and she would chase her brother through the woods.

"You look tired, Rousseau!" Sobel barked at her. "You don't belong here. You will never earn your wings."

Claire's nostrils flared but she kept quiet. She didn't break that easy. There were a few ankles on the way up that seemed to try and trip her. They were going to have to do better than that.

At some point along the trek up, Claire heard someone cried out in pain. Her first instinct was to break formation and help the man but the moment she started advancing, Sobel noticed and yelled at her to stay in the back.

"Do not help that man!" Sobel ordered. Claire looked and spotted the limping man. She couldn't see his face, unfortunately. "Do not help him! You do not stop! Hi-yo Silver!"

It was one thing to belittle and humiliate her, but to keep her from doing her job was an entirely different matter. The man disgusted her. If he wanted her gone, Claire was going to do everything she could to stay.

At the last mile uphill, formation broke and there was a sprint to the top. By this point, Claire was winded, but out of sheer bitterness towards Sobel, she pushed herself and weaved through a large group of men. She ran up to the top and touched the marble statue, Sobel's glare boring into her back.

"C'mon Rousseau, keep moving!" Winters encouraged as Claire pushed herself to run all the way back down.

After the long run up and down Currahee, the men from Easy returned to their barracks.

"A broad in the Airborne, you believe that?" Perconte questioned.

"Don't matter, she ain't gonna last," Guarnere stated. "Look at how many guys washed out already."

"Ain't no way she'll make it," Toye agreed. "Pretty girl like that don't belong on the front."

"I hate to agree with Sobel on anything, but he might be right about this," Martin spoke up.

"Women can't handle the frontline, too sensitive."

"She's an officer. Gotta be a reason for that," Malarkey defended.

"Yeah, cause the Army don't make mistakes," Talbert countered. "'Sides, she's a nurse, they're all ranking."

"I give her a week," Guarnere spoke. "Two tops. Then she's outta here."

"Christ, wait 'til she's gotta do the march, she'll be packin' by the first mile," Luz added.

Eugene Roe remained quiet as they tore into their new Lieutenant. They made a pool based on how fast she would drop out. Luz asked if Gene wanted in, he declined. He was conflicted, deep down he believed that women didn't belong on the frontline. He thought they should stay behind where it was safe, only serving in hospitals. Then again, he thought about his own medic training. The aim of his position was to stabilize the men so they could make it alive to the aid station and then the field hospital. Lieutenant Rousseau was a nurse, she had knowledge that was beyond him. If it meant more men lived, then maybe he'd be okay with it.

After the run up Currahee, Claire sought out the man who got hurt. She knew she would not be able to think about anything else until she had a look at his ankle. She noticed one guy heavily limping towards the barracks. Claire ran up to him.

"You mind if I take a look at that?" Claire asked. The man was around her height, if not a quarter of an inch shorter than her, with his brown hair in an army regulation haircut and friendly brown eyes. "Your ankle, I mean. It was you that hurt it on the run, right?"

"Uh, yeah," the soldier replied.

"I was tryin' to get to you on the run but…" she drifted off. "How's it feeling?"

"Um… it's fine I guess," he said.

"Alright, let me just make sure. Coulda made it worst runnin' on it like that," she explained. They limped over to the side of the barracks where there was a bench. Claire sat the man down and dropped to her knees. "What's your name?"

"Private Warren Muck, ma'am," he introduced himself. "But most people call me Skip." She liked that he acknowledged her rank.

"Nice to meet you, Muck," she said. She didn't call him by his nickname, mostly because she wanted to keep that distance between them. The only way to get men to listen was to have some sort of rank above them or to have their respect. Claire looked at his ankle. She lifted his leg off the ground. "Does it hurt to move it?"

"Not so much anymore," he told her. He flinched a little as she rotated it around. It wasn't swollen.

Claire could hear some of the men talking in the barracks. Based on the snippets of conversation she heard, she knew they were talking about her.

"How far d'you think she had to spread her legs to get here?" One of them asked.

"Musta been great if she got in the Airborne."

"Hey, do you guys think the covers match the drapes?" She overheard them go into explicit detail about how she'd gotten here. She would've laughed if she hadn't been so damn angry. Muck was giving her a pitying look, something that Claire really didn't need.

"It's just a minor sprain," she told him, avoiding his gaze. "Should be fine by tomorrow, just keep off of it tonight and elevated. Stick your pillow underneath. Don't wanna put a strain on the muscle and make it worst. If it still hurts in the mornin' come talk to me, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," Muck agreed. Claire gave a small nod and walked back towards her own barracks.

Based on what she overheard in there, it was going to take a lot of convincing for these men to start respecting her, if she ever could.

Claire made it back to her barracks. The second she walked in, Winters and Nixon immediately stopped talking and gave her an awkward look.

"It's alright, if you're gonna talk about me, don't let me stop you," she told them. She was angry and annoyed that they were behaving like children all because she had breasts. "No one else seems to stop. Let me start it off, no I didn't sleep my way through the ranks. They offered me the choice to go to the frontline and I took it. I coulda gone an' worked at an field or evac hospital, but I chose this. I'm here for one thing, and one thing alone, to do my job, same as all of you."

There was a silence between the three of them.

"Where're you from?" Nixon asked. Claire calmed down.

"Louisiana," she answered.

"I figured as much. Accent gives it away," he told her. A small smile was on his lips. He then pointed to himself. "New York."

Claire glanced over at Winters. "Pennsylvania."

There was nothing after that. No more talk. But somehow Claire got the feeling that she might not be entirely alone.

Claire's feelings of accomplishment died as soon as they'd appeared. The men would glare and make comments when she would walk by. They ostracized her, bullied her. During training exercises, Claire would often end up on the ground almost as fast as she would get back up. They would trip her, block her way, and did everything in their power to try and make her fail. This continued as Claire kept going. Every day she was there, it was an annoyance to the men, particularly Sobel. However, if there was one thing Claire Rousseau was very good at, it was getting back up.

"Get up Rousseau!" He would yell every time she fell. She hated him. "Are you gonna cry? You are pathetic!"

But she took it. She took it because Claire knew she belonged here. The men could hate her all they wanted, she was not going to quit. Sobel could demean her, bully her, but he would not be rid of her. He never acknowledged her rank, instead treating her even worst than the other enlisted men. But that didn't bother her as much. She wasn't looking for Sobel's approval, or his respect, especially since she had none for him. Colonel Sink would call her to his office every few days to ask if she still wanted this. Every time it was the same answer: "Sir, I will see this through. This is where I'm meant to be."

She had trouble keeping up with the men physically, as she knew she would. After training was done for the day, Claire would go back out and run through the obstacle course again and again. She practiced on the wall especially since that was her main source of trouble. Her fingernails had almost all been ripped off. She managed to get it after practically propelling herself over. She was sure her blood stained the wall. She would do push-ups, pull-ups, and pretty much anything that would build up her upper-body strength. It was easy to fall into a routine since every day was the same thing.

About three weeks into her training, Claire was still unfriendly with the men. Winters and Nixon were the only ones she talked to, but even then, it wasn't much more than polite conversation. Muck would smile at her, wave when no one was looking, they exchanged hellos, but never anything else.

Claire was given instructions on what her job was. Essentially, she was a field medic. But given her officer status, she'd be given a bigger, better kit, and also have the power to take over the aid station. During her required medical training, Claire met Eugene Roe. He was a medic for Easy and they would be working together. They were both from Louisiana, a fact that seemed to bond them. They grew up not far from each other. He proved to be very capable at doing his job. Claire was happy to be working with him. Roe, however, kept his distance. Since most of the men were not talking to her, Claire knew Roe wouldn't either. Outside of medic training, they wouldn't talk.

Her muscles were already starting to bulk up. They followed the same routine every day, wake up, eat, inspection, training, rifle practice, lectures, jumping exercises, run, dinner, obstacle course, tactical training. During lectures, Claire sat in the back, though she was never looked over, instructors purposely called on her as though to make sure she was listening. They would ask her questions any idiot would know, almost like they didn't know that she'd actually gone to college. She took many notes and would go over them in what little spare time she had.

It was lonely being on the outside. Claire had always been on the outside of things, but this was different. She'd never been so actively hated before. When Claire was alone, on more than one occasion, she cried.

One day, while she was walking back to barracks, when someone came behind her and roughly bumped into her shoulder. Claire stumbled forward and fell to the ground. She could hear laughter coming from next to her. Claire looked up to see Cobb, Liebgott, and Gordon walking away.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" She said angrily to herself.

"You should watch where you walk, Lieutenant," Cobb replied. The other two laughed.

She was so angry; she couldn't even speak. Claire's hands tightened into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

"Yeah, roads can be mighty bumpy around here," Liebgott continued while looking down on her. "Never know what can happen."

"I'll remember that," Claire said through gritted teeth. Claire pushed up off the ground and dusted herself off. "Excuse me."

As she walked away, Claire could still hear them talking.

"The fuck's she still doin' here? Don't she get that we don't want her?"

Claire's feelings of anger turned into those of annoyance. How the Hell could she do her job when they didn't even want her here?

The fuck's she still doin' here? Honestly, at that moment, she didn't have a clue.

It was her lowest point in training. She'd come here because she wanted to help the men on the line, because she didn't want to sit around while people died. Claire understood what the army was doing. They wanted her and the other selected nurses to flame out. They wanted to prove that women couldn't handle it. Claire was going to prove it wrong, but she wasn't sure she could. With the odds so stacked against her, she didn't know if she could keep doing this.

She knew what James would do it if he was here. He'd tell her to grow up, stop moping and see it through. She thought being here might make it easier to get over what happened, but if anything, it made her miss her brother more. She felt lonelier than ever. She thought about the word 'Currahee'. It meant 'We stand alone' and never had Claire more believed that to be true. She felt like no one was on her side here.

As Claire kept on her way, she hadn't realized that there was a stray tear sliding down her cheek. She kept her head down until she nearly crashed into someone. Claire looked up to see it was Eugene Roe.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized and was starting to walk around him.

"Lieutenant Rousseau, are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, wiping the tear from her eye. "You okay?"

"Yeah… Actually, I was wonderin' if you could help me with somethin', ma'am," he answered.

"What is it?" Claire asked.

"I, uh, I… findin' the vein for the plasma… I ain't so good with that," he admitted. Their instructor wasn't the best at explaining that sort of thing. He would explain vaguely how to do it, stating that they'll get it with practice.

"Okay, I can show how to do that," Claire replied. "It's real simple once you get it. Can I see your arm?"

Gene held it out for her.

"You're gonna wanna insert the needle right about here," she pointed to the inside of his elbow. "To find the vein, the easiest way is to tie up above about here," she pointed to above the elbow, "but you might not have anything to tie it off. That case, take two fingers and tap it til the vein appears. When you see the vein, pinch the skin, insert the needle and then tape it down. That clear it up?"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied.

"Alright, good," she stated.

"You're good at that," he told her.

"Well, I did go to school to be a nurse, I'd sure hope I'm good at it. Otherwise, that'd be a waste of money," she responded light heartedly.

"Ma'am… can I ask somethin'?" He asked.

"'Nother medical question?" She asked.

"No… Ma'am, you could be working somewhere far off the line, safe, why'd you decide to come here?" Roe asked. The most common question she got.

Claire shrugged. "Why did you, Roe?"

"Honestly… because they paid more," he answered.

"I joined because it was my duty," she told him. "I came here because they offered it to me and I just want to do my job the best way I can, and this, bein' here's the best way I can."

At this point, Claire was just trying to prove, not only to the men but to herself, that she wouldn't wash out.

The fuck's she still doin' here?

To do my job.

During a particularly grueling hand-to-hand exercise, Claire was paired up with George Luz. He was roughly around her size. At first, she was doing fine. She did exactly as instructed though she was a bit awkward in her movements. Claire used to get in fights with the neighbourhood boys. Most of the time, she was the instigator.

Claire went to throw a fake punch at Luz, like she was supposed to and Luz was supposed to grab her by the arm and put her to the ground. Luz did just that. He grabbed her by the arm and flipped her. Claire landed hard on her back, a sharp pain shot up through her back and the wind knocked out of her lungs. She gasped trying to catch her breath.

"Fuck," she cursed quietly. Since joining the army, Claire had begun swearing much more. The pain that shot through her body isolated itself to her right shoulder.

"On your feet Rousseau!" Sobel barked.

Claire swallowed a painful groan as she slowly started to get up. She could do this.

Nous sommes solides.

Her shoulder throbbed, though she didn't think it was broken.

"Do it again," Sobel ordered. He was standing to her left, watching her pick herself up. Claire got down into position and gave Luz a nod.

And they did it again, Luz knocked her on her ass once more. She slowly got up to her feet.

"Again."

"Jesus Christ, stay down," Luz pleaded. Claire ignored him as she got up to her feet.

Nous sommes solides.

She nodded at Luz once more, and they restarted the manoeuvre. She went for the dig and Luz knocked her down. With every fall, she could feel pain shoot through her, but she swallowed it and pushed it away. Every time she got up, Sobel ordered for them to do it again. It got to a point where the others stopped practicing and simply watched.

Nous sommes solides.

"Again," Sobel repeated.

"Sir…" Winters started but Sobel interrupted him.

"If you want to stop, Rousseau, there's a bus waiting to take you away."

Claire's nostrils flared.

"No, sir," she responded. She had something to prove. "Luz, again."

She went into position. Luz, reluctantly it seemed, did the same. Claire's head swirled, she was dizzy. She probably looked like a breeze could blow her over, and honestly she felt that way too, but she wasn't about to give up.

Claire went for the dig once more and Luz knocked her down. She fell down, the air being sucked out of her lungs. Every part of her body hurt. Claire went to get up, only to fall down again.

"That's enough," Sobel finally said. He looked down at her. "Pathetic. You're dismissed."

It was dinner time.

Sobel left her on the ground. Claire went to pull herself up off ground when a hand was out in front of her. Claire looked up to see Luz lending it out to her. She took it and he pulled her up.

"Thank you," she told him.

"You shoulda stayed down," he replied.

"None of you woulda," she countered. Luz didn't respond, he simply walked away.

Claire felt like a giant bruise. She went to the officers' mess hall. Claire went to sit alone, just as she always did, when Winters and Nixon came and sat next to her.

"You look like shit," Nixon brazenly told her. That was one thing she liked about Nixon, he didn't censor himself in the name of modesty.

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"You okay?" Winters asked.

"Considering I got my ass handed to me a dozen times, I'd say I've been better," she told them. They both were caught off guard by her swearing but they quickly recovered. "Good thing, nothing's broken, just bruised." The two men looked at her as though she was insane, maybe she was.

"The men seemed impressed," Winters told her.

"Lieutenant Winters, to be honest, I don't care if I impress them," she explained. "Gettin' thrown to the ground won't all of a sudden make them respect me. I haven't earned it yet."

"It's Dick," Winters said.

"What?" Claire questioned.

"We're the same rank, Lieutenant Rousseau, call me by first my name," he answered. It was the first time anyone really acknowledged that she was an officer.

"Okay, Dick," she replied. "Call me Claire." Looking at both Nixon… Lewis and Dick, Claire thought that maybe she was beginning to make some progress.

"You see that?" Skip asked the men at the table. He was saying it cockily. Skip and Doc Roe were the only two who didn't put money in the pool. "She just kept getting back up."

"She's tough, I'll give her that," Bull spoke up.

"Just 'cause she gets her ass handed to her don't change the fact that she'll probably wash out," Toye countered.

"Christ, at this rate, only way she's gettin' outta here's in a fucking ambulance," Malarkey added.

The way he saw her get up, then get knocked down, then get back up again, he wasn't sure whether he should be impressed or pissed at her stubborn ass. Another part of him wondered if Doc and Skip were right and he should try to get his money back from Luz.

Claire's entire left side was bruised by the look of it. She pushed through the pain as Easy Company went on their Friday night march. Normally, Claire stood at the back of the company, but tonight it was different. She marched on the outside between first and second platoon. One of Sobel's orders in regards to the march was not to take a drink out of their canteens. It was a test of resistance for them.

On the other marches, she was fine, today, however, it took much of her willpower to stop herself. It was well into the night when they were about halfway through the march. She kept an eye on the men, just in case any of them collapsed or got hurt in any way.

"Lieutenant Winters," Bull Randleman spoke up.

"What is it?" Dick asked.

"Permission to speak, sir," he requested.

"Permission granted."

"Sir, we got nine companies, sir," Bull Randleman said.

"Yes we do."

"So, why are we the only company marching every Friday night, twelve miles, full packed uniform, in the pitch dark?" He asked.

"Why d'you think, Private Randleman?" Dick asked.

"Lieutenant Sobel hates us, sir," Bull answered. The corners of Claire's mouth twitched slightly.

"Lieutenant Sobel doesn't hate Easy Company, he just hates you," Dick joked.

"Thank you, sir," Bull said it with a big shit eating grin on his face. It was rare to hear Dick make jokes.

"He hates him back," someone, it sounded like Muck, said.

"He hates you too, Muck," Luz retorted.

"Pretty sure he hates Lieutenant Rousseau the most," Muck joked. Claire smirked. Muck was one of the only enlisted men who didn't treat her like a fly buzzing around them, that was just because she helped him out that day he twisted his ankle. The other was Eugene Roe. She always looked forward to medic training. She got along with him well and she thought they made a good team.

"Nah, pretty sure it's still you," she replied.

When they got back to camp, Sobel was standing all high and mighty as he asked the men to up end their canteens. Claire was still at the back, behind the final line, trying not to give Sobel any reason to punish her or the men. She hadn't taken a single sip on the march, the entire contents were poured onto the ground. However, one soldier, Christenson, had broken and taken a drink. His canteen dried up rather quickly.

"What is this?! Christenson! Why is your canteen empty? You drank from your canteen, didn't you?!" Sobel raged.

"Sir, I-" He began to defend himself. His expression was tired and pale.

"Lieutenant Winters, was this man ordered not to drink from his canteen?" Sobel asked.

"Yes, sir," Dick responded.

"Private Christenson, you disobeyed a direct order from your CO. You will fill your canteen and repeat all twelve miles of the march!" Sobel ordered. Claire couldn't take watching it anymore.

"Sir, it was under my orders, sir," she spoke up surprising even herself. Heads turned to look at her. Sobel's gaze broke away from Christenson and glared at her. "I noticed Private Christenson was looking dehydrated, I ordered him to drink water. I did not want him to hurt himself and make the CO look bad, sir."

Sobel sneered. "Congratulations, Christenson, you've been spared from doing the march again alone. Lieutenant Rousseau will accompany you. You will both refill your canteens and march. If they are not still full when you get back, I will make you repeat it."

"Yes, sir," she and Christenson said simultaneously.

"Fall out!" Sobel ordered. Christenson and Claire walked away from the group. They filled their canteens and started on the march again.

Neither of them spoke for the first five miles of the march. Claire was trying to concentrate on continuously moving forward. Keep moving. Don't think about food, or your bed, or water. Claire kept listing off the different systems in the body to distract herself. She would start by naming the system, then it's function, and then naming all the parts in it. The silence was tense between them.

The circulatory system. Function: to circulate blood around the body. The circulatory system revolves entirely around the heart. The heart pumps the blood through the atria into the ventricles. The ventricles pump the oxygenated blood into the aorta (the main artery) into the smaller arteries. Then the veins…

"Why are you still here?" He questioned cutting her off mid circulatory system.

"What?"

"Why are you still here?" He repeated.

"Because I want to be. Because I can. Why should men be the only ones allowed to serve their country?" She retorted. "Women see more blood than men ever will."

"It's not just about the blood. It's about being strong enough to take the fighting," Christenson countered.

"How many men have washed out?" Claire asked. "A dozen? Two? But me? I'm still here. I put up with men lookin' at my ass, thinkin' I'm weak, the rumours about how far I spread my legs to get here, Lieutenant Sobel treating me like I'm a pile of shit he stepped in…"

"Why?" He questioned.

"I can take it," she answered bluntly. "I'm a lot stronger than I look. Are we done with the questions?"

"One more: why'd you try to take the blame?" Christenson asked.

Claire thought about it for a minute. "I'm an officer, part of me hoped Sobel would've respected that."

"But the only thing you did was dig yourself in deeper. You don't have to prove anything."

Claire let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Are you kidding me? Haven't you been listening? Of course I need to prove myself. I've been proving myself since I got here. I'm not looking to be liked. I'm not looking to be your friend. But, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not giving up. Might be better for everyone if we just suck it up, because there might come a time where I'm the one who saves your life."

"Yes ma'am," Christenson replied. By the way he looked at her, Claire could see something that hadn't been there before, the smallest hint of respect.

Good, she told herself. It's the small victories that count.

It was nearly dawn by the time Christenson and Claire made it back to camp. Sobel was waiting and both of them dumped their full canteens on the ground. Sobel then dismissed them and sent them to bed. Claire hadn't even bothered to change or draw the curtain shut as she collapsed on her bunk.

I've been working on this story for over six months now. It has been a long, difficult process that involved quite a bit of research. My goal is to create a good story that is still mostly realistic. I know I will not get everything exactly right, so if you notice a factual error, please point it out. I do hope you enjoy this story. Please let me know what you think.