Warnings: ¡Spoilers! Blood, Gore, Language, Violence, Dark Themes, War Action, Descriptions of Wounds / Illness, etc
Spoilers: Bastogne ( s01e06 )
Timeline: Bastogne ; pre - Julian's death.
Pairings: None.
A/N: takes place few days before Requiem of Apprehension because I wanted to add some Julian interaction, though again this story is mainly revolved around Roe.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Band of Brothers or the book it's based on. Nor do I wish to mock / slander / jest with or disgrace their names & that part of history. Take none of what happens within as fact, unless stated otherwise in end notes.

"Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few."- Winston S. Churchill

Cold was a constant companion while encamped in the forests surrounding Bastogne as snow continued to pile up; around the lips of their foxholes, atop the sparingly few traps some had covering their 'holes and filling the ones who didn't. The snowfall collecting at the bottom of their foxholes, to either be scooped out or be melted to muddy the dirt under the soldier's' feet. It'd be frozen by the next morning, and that's where the true damage lay. Wetting a troopers' feet when the water seeped past the leather of their boots; a perfect environment for trench foot. Which seemed to be running rampant if they didn't move around or alternate their socks.

It was a difficult task as most didn't own a second pair of socks that weren't littered with holes and one risked their feet swelling if they took their boots off, and then not being able to fit them back on.

Such the problem that John Julian was facing. Edward "Babe" Heffron sat beside him along the edge of their foxhole, wringing out the replacement's socks, while the kid rubbed at his feet in an attempt to warm them and return proper circulation to them.

"Here, put these on when your done."

Both troopers' attention was brought up from their tasks towards the voice of Donald Malarkey as he passed down a ragged yet dry pair of socks to Julian.

The unexpected show of kindness and generosity, especially with supplies so scarce as they were, had the kid stunned. Not grabbing them, not that he wasn't sure if the offer was genuine, only he hadn't expected anyone to show such kindness towards him. A replacement that held no place with the original men of Easy. Thus Julian was only able to stare back and forth between the socks held in the corporal's outstretched hand and Malarkey's face.

"If he don't take 'em. I will." Warren "Skip" Muck's voice followed the short silence of Malarkey's words, him jumping legs first into the foxhole and leaning back until he too was sitting on its edge.

"Nah-uh, I offered them to the kid, not you." The soldier of Irish heritage smiled through the bantered words, his tone light and teasing of his best friend.

"Lucky bastard." Was Muck's reply, whispered under his breath in a way that everyone seated around had heard.

With an uncharacteristically shy smile, Julian took the proffered socks at Malarkey's further nudging, "Thanks."

"Just don't let his niceties go to waste, keep those feet dry." Alex Penkala added as he dropped down next to Muck in the now crowded foxhole, who chimed in afterwards , "Then pass along your dry pair to the next man."

"Meaning you, right?" Penkala's expression didn't lift enough to match his good-humoured words, making it difficult for Julian to discern if he was truly irritated or still joking.

At Malarkey's scoffing laugh and Muck's smile, he figured the latter more so than the former. The tone of Muck's next words further confirmed that.

"Well, I'm not saying I wouldn't take them."

"Yeah. Who wouldn't?" Malarkey's tone belied the seriousness of the other two's as it was lathered with mirth.

"Malark. Heffron." The smoothly accented voice of Eugene "Doc" Roe interrupted their banter, as he paid greeting to the two closest troopers nearest him then his soft gaze found Julian's, he asked, while indicating the replacement's exposed foot, "You okay there, Julian?"

"Yeah, Doc, just changing out my wet socks for dry ones. Thanks to Sergeant Malarkey."

"Good." Roe turned to Malarkey to give him a minute nod, one of thanks, before addressing the younger trooper once again, "Remember ta keep movin' too. Keep the blood flowing."

"Yes, sir." Julian responded, though the medic seemed to grimace at the use of a 'sir' in addressing him.

"We'll make sure the kid doesn't lose any toes. Put you to work and make less work for the doc." William "Wild Bill" Guarnere quipped as he kneeled beside their foxhole, amusement colouring his tone, although truth held within his words to the best of his ability.

"We'll all try to keep all our toes." Penkala revised the other's statement, hunkering down in his coat.

"Try being the key word." George Luz added unhelpfully, though it served its purpose in cracking smiles from a few.

"That's all I ask." Roe nodded at the group before standing up once more to continue on his way.

"Least he's happy with our best effort." Muck observed, watching Roe's frame disappear in the fog before glancing towards the others, eyebrows raising up and down comically, "Unlike you know who."

"Jesus, imagine how he'd have taken being out here ?" Penkala asked, more rhetorical than anything ; they all knew how Sobel acted out in the field.

"Assuming he'd make it this far." Malarkey was near scoffing at that idea.

Heffron nor Julian were around when the original men gof Easy were running up and down Currahee, thus when the conversation started up at that small urging about their time spent at Toccoa, they turned their full attention towards it with an avid curiosity at their fellows. Inserting questions here and there to keep the stories coming.

"Nah, nah. It was more like 'You look tired! There's an ambulance crew waiting at the bottom of the hill; no more Currahee, no more Lieutenant Sobel!'" Luz joined in with his own interpretation of Sobel's voice, everyone busted out laughing at hearing it, so it was universally guessed between the two listening-in replacements the impression was more than accurate.

"Yeah. Speaking of ambulances, remember that time he had Doc drive that ambulance in pace with us. Yelling the whole time about how we didn't even have to make it to the top or back down, the 'bus would take us down now?" Malarkey added, the memory seeming more humorous now than it did when they were experiencing first-hand.

"Yeah, I'd never seen someone so angry over not being able to run Currahee." The words were quickly followed by a laugh, Muck having to remove his cigarette from his mouth before it fell from his upturned lips.

The others grinned or guffawed at this, leaving Babe and Julian confused at the vague nature the story held and how it was riddled with hidden information the two weren't privy to. More interested in hearing about Toccoa men than merely swapping chit-chat and old memories. Something each replacement seemed to have in common, no matter how integrated they would become into the originals. Though their position as replacements, Julian more so than Heffron, didn't stop the redhead from asking further into it.

"Wait, so... Everyone had to do the training?" Heffron asked, leaning forward -elbows coming to rest on his knees- in his curiosity. "Even Doc?"

"Yep. Though the Doc's always been more of a sprinter than one of them long distance runners." Guarnere spoke up from his seat next to Malarkey's right, the nods from the others in their misshapen circle showed their mutual agreement.

"That helps him now, though." Malarkey added, thinking back on the many times Doc had use the natural talent of sprinting to hurry onto the battlefield and tend to a wounded man before dragging their lucky ass back out without ever taking a hit himself.

"That's true, but he sure had hell to pay when Sink picked him as a medic. Oh boy!" Muck agreed, tipping his hand that held his cigarette towards the Oregonian paratrooper, then adding his own two-cents on their view of Roe's position.

This had Heffron frowning in confusion and slight irritation, not understanding what Muck was implying. After all he'd only seen Doc Roe treated and talked about with great respect or in the good-humour shared by comrades. Julian, at seeing his fellows drawn brow and frown, too reflected such an expression; not knowing what had happened but trusting Babe's intuition that something had been said that shouldn't have been.

At seeing the two younger men's disquiet, Malarkey explained. Opting for explaining Roe's situation before getting into anything about Captain Sobel.

"They plucked Doc out earlier than the rest of the medics for any of the companies 'cause of an incident in training- - " Malarkey had started before he was interrupted by the overly eager question being sprouted by both Heffron and Julian.

"What happened?"

"Some wash out... "

The heat of the day and it's slight breeze brought the rancid smell to everyone's noses before they even set foot out of the barracks. An omen for what sort of day it was going to be, especially when Sobel's hollering could be heard coming from the fields and after having been ordered by their platoon sergeants to gear up.

Most of the men didn't even bother to hide their groans as they stepped outside, though many fought to keep their recently eaten lunch where it should be when they reached the crawl portion of the obstacle course. Bloody animal innards lay everywhere; over the barbed wire, scattered about or in pools of the poor beasts' blood.

Several shouts of disquiet and curses could be heard as the members of Easy rolled or slid into the gore encrusted trench. Most just bit their lips and pushed forward, barely a grimace upon their features. While two had balked and hurled over their rifles, more groans came from the men behind them. As if the place didn't reek enough as it was.

The company's officers -lieutenant Winters and Nixon- had shared a quick look, told by a mere glance towards each other's eyes as their facial expressions didn't falter once, of disgust and amusement before their rolled forward to continue out of the pit. Malarkey, Muck and Hoobler followed close after, their disgust viably shown but with hardly any hesitation they'd continued forward. Much the same with the Companies Sergeants, minus that of Evans who had paled and took several seconds before he could move again, and main men.

"Looks as if today's gonna be a doozy." George Luz spoke aloud at coming to see what they were about to get into (literally), mimicking a voice Roe couldn't place, but it nonetheless pulled a smile both from him, Randleman and Perconte.

All of which were approaching the trench near the same time, another man was in league with them but didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry. Which turned into the man, more of a boy really, trying to back out as quickly as he could. Although Christenson, along with several others blocked his only auxiliary exit route, thus the panic set in quickly for the kid.

Squirming, breath accelerating, the recruit lunged upwards. Colliding with the barbed wire, pain prickled along his back in tiny punctures were created by the thorn-like structure of the fencing. His last avenue of exit now proved to be futile, he scrambled to the side. Abandoning his rifle and all sense.

Shouts of complaint followed his route as he shoved others out of his way, panic blinding any reasonable thought. Those who caught on were quick to squish into the ones behind or ahead of them to keep from getting knocked by the wayward recruit, who's rifle and helmet had been quickly forgotten about in his haste.

A sharp cry pulled past his lips once he reached the end and attempted to stand too soon, needing to escape further away. Pain erupted along his lower back, the cloth and skin being caught by the barbs and tearing it open. Collapsing to the dirt once again, a ragged yell once again dragged up his throat.

"Oh shit!" The closest man exclaimed, paling at seeing the sheer volume of blood now spreading along the green uniform and spilling onto the thin grass beneath him.

"Move! Move! Gimme room!" Came the oddly authoritative but naturally smooth accented voice of one of the more quiet men of Easy.

Men immediately parted best they could, conditioned to follow the authorities commands of those who took good charge but more so in relief of having someone who knew how to help. Thus they let the lithe dark haired individual slip through their lines without protest. Though curiosity pulled their gazes along with his progress.

Arriving at the edge of the course, Eugene Roe easily slid under the barbed wire to kneel beside the withering recruit, "Hey, hey, take it easy there. Keep still as ya can, this'll fix right up."

Shrugging out of his suspenders, to pull his uniform shirt over his head, Roe folded it with nimble quick movements then pressed it along the slash over the other's lower back. The man arching and giving a horrid scream at the sudden agony ripping along his back.

"Sh, sh. Have ta keep pressure ta stop that bleedin', but you're gonna be fine. Jus' fine, Roberts."

The words fell off the impromptu medic's tongue, seemingly to coat the atmosphere with a calm that had Robert's quieting mildly. Pain still courses along his spine, but fear no longer lapped and encompassed his mind. The follow of words didn't cease, even when the actual medics arrived ( thanks to someone running for help ) the soothing voice kept the panic muted.

"They're gon' patch you up jus' fine. Jus' stay with us, y'hear?"

Roe kept up speaking quietly to the downed recruit, stopping only to relay his condition to two medics that ran towards them, explaining what happened. Details of size and depth of the laceration, plus when he applied pressure, allowing for quick judgements on the care of injured man.

"Keep pressure there, even while we lift." The oldest of the newly arrived medics ordered, "Ready on three. One, two, three!"

And together the younger medical personnel raised Roberts to place him on the stretcher while Roe kept direct pressure to the best of his ability while moving. The coordinated effort allowed for an easy transfer, jostling Roberts little, only eliciting a short moan from him as his consciousness waned. Only Roe's steady mantra keeping the blackness of unconscious sleep at the edges of his mind, physically weak and with greying vision but it progressing no further.

Winters then had rallied the rest of Easy to complete the course, no need to have Sobel on their assess anymore than necessary, and it'd give the medics room to work without all that gawkers.

...

"... And that's all we saw as Winters had us move on, butit was quite the show while it lasted.. " Muck answered, shoving the burning end of his spent cigarette into the snow, "All the rest of us didn't really know what to do."

"So Doc has always been that way? You know, good at staying calm and claiming others down." Heffron piqued up, curiosity blossoming further at a greater insight towards the company's soft spoken medic.

"Yeah. Though we didn't know that until then." Malarkey answered for them all, giving off the impression that they'd had this conversation beforehand, then quickly explaining, "The Doc was always more of a background type, not shy but quiet."

"Still is sorta, but once he got that armband we got to see the spine behind the man." Guarenere supplied, leaving more question and intrigue for Heffron and Julian.

"A private, I don't remember his name, but the guy had been sick all day. Even hurled a couple of times, but Sobel wouldn't let him go visit the medical tent or Doc when we were into our march…"

"Hey, Miles, how you holdin' up" Roe asked, tone soft as his lilting Cajun accent adding a soothing smoothness to his voice, as he crouched down to be eye level with the private that sat hunched over with his back to a tree.

Hearing himself being addressed, the private lifted his head to place the voice with a face, though anyone would know Roe based on his accent and way about his speech without needing to confirm by sight. Though Roe was the last person Miles wanted to see at the moment.

"Fine." Miles answered, voice hoarse sounding from the repeated vomiting episodes throughout the day and his inability to consume any water without it coming back up, "Don't let Sobel see you talking to me though, we'll both be in hot water then."

Roe's brow furrowed at hearing the boy talk, not liking the quality of his voice -rough and weak- nor the look about his features -pale, sweaty, and drawn- everything pointing to the need of medical attention. However little, even if Roe could give the kid an aspirin to quell some of his pain or dull the fever that spread twin scarlet streaks across the private's cheeks, he'd do it. If only Sobel hadn't threatened Miles with severe ramifications if he sought out a medic.

"Let's not worry 'bout that now." The medic countered and at seeing the private make to argue, he added, "I ain't gonna give you nothin', so I'm not really treatin' you. Jus' wanna figure out what's wrong, okay?"

"All right. As long as he doesn't see." Miles consented, though his eyes darted around hazily as if expecting Sobel to pop out and start yelling about disobeying orders, unfolding his arms from around his stomach to allow the medic to exam him.

"I'll explain everythin' if he does." Roe steadily promised, ensuring he had the private's eye as he said those words then glancing towards Mile's abdomen he asked, "Now, where does it hurt?"

"My stomach." The kid answered, slowly pointing towards his right side, "It's gotten worse over the past few hours. Felt like indigestion at first, but now feels like someone twisting a knife in there."

"Yo' right side?" Roe asked, a slight flutter of fear for Miles filling him at the implications such pain could come to have, as he reached forward to pull up on the uniform jacket the private wore to expose his stomach. "Where on yo' right side?"

"Lower." Was the private's meek answer, his voice having been sapped by the unintentional pain Roe caused when he moved his jacket.

At seeing no bruises nor lacerations that'd cause any sort of discomfort or sickness like the trooper was experiencing, Roe worried his bottom lip in thought before looking back towards Miles' face, "You still have your appendix, Miles?"

"What?! You can't be serious!" The private exclaimed, his voice cracking at the end due to the harshness of his 'whisper' and already abused vocal cords.

"I am. This is serious; do you still got yo' appendix?" Roe questioned again, his tone much more stern than before.

"Yeah. Yeah, I still have it." Private Miles' gaze fell, his brow furrowed in worry and fear for both himself and how he'd be allowed the sick leave.

"I have to do a test, ta make sure." The medic's tone brought Mile's gaze back up to the other's, not liking the look he was getting but understanding what Roe was telling him; this would hurt.

Unable to find his voice, Miles merely nodded in acknowledgement as he took a deep breath in preparation for whatever Roe would do next. With warm and gentle fingers, the medic palpated Miles abdomen.

Steering clear of his right side for the moment to ensure there wasn't any hidden pain or cause elsewhere than, with a brief glance of apology towards the private, he pressed against Miles' lower right side. Initially no pain was felt at that, something which confused Miles, until Roe lifted up and pain unlike any he'd felt seemed to explode across his stomach; feeling it in his legs all the way up to his chest.

Instinctively, Miles curled forward with a bitten off outcry of pain. Roe, having expected this, gripped the private's shoulder to keep him steady and offer some physical support as he waited for Miles to ride out the pain. A steady stream of, "It'll pass, it'll pass. Jus' continue breathin', slow an' even. That's it." from the medic soon had Miles uncurling from himself, a slight shakily and a deal more pale, but nodding gratefully towards Roe as he made to sit back against the tree.

"What is this! What is this! Private Miles, I directly ordered you not to seek out Corporal Roe for medical attention!" Captain Sobel's nasally bellowing sounded just behind the pair.

"Sir, - " Roe stood from his kneeling position to approach his commanding officer, but was interrupted.

"And I directly order you, Corporal, not to approach Private Miles unless he was bleeding to death!" Sobel snapped.

"Sir, Private Miles is suffering from acute appendicitis!" Roe tried again, tone level yet boarding its edges with an ire Sobel tended to bred in all his men.

"An easily faked condition, Corporal. As you should know working in medical. Complain of a stomach ache and get a weak off."

"Sir, respectfully, this ain't no act. Miles is runnin' a fever an' experincin' rebound pain. This is serious."

Sobel glanced from the medic back towards the Private still seated by the tree, sidestepping Roe, he came up to Miles, "Private Miles, on your feet!"

"Are you experiencing stomach pain?"

"Y-yes, sir." The words croaked from the younger trooper, the strain of remaining at attention leaving sweat to break out along his forehead anew.

Sobel stared down his nose at private Miles, a feat only ones who thought they were superior to gold could do, "But did I instruct you not to seek out Corporal Roe for medical attention?"

"Yes, sir." Meek confirmation from the trooper, he wouldn't out Roe for trying to help him. It'd been the most anyone had done for him since he arrived.

"So then wouldn't ... "

"Sir, I was the one who came up to him. Not the other way around." Roe's low voice interrupted their Captain, him stepping up next to the swaying private to lend aid should he collapse.

"Oh! So not only are you talking back to a superior officer, you disobeyed the order." Sobel snagged the opportunity to ream the medic a new one, attention completely diverted from Miles.

"Yes, sir, because you may be willing to have that blood on yo' hands. But I can't, I won't." Voice no longer quiet, but hardened , done away with his usually gentle gaze ; sharpened towards that of a glare.

"You're willingly admitting to disobeying a direct order from your superior officer, Corporal?" Sobel's own tone darkened at hearing the blatant disobedience, although had reign a slight when face the righteous underlying fury the medic had directed his way.

"Right now; yes, sir."

...

"Doc said that!" Both Heffron and Julian choired each other in their astonishment, eyes going round as their jaws dropped to smack the their knees. Their expressions bringing universally shared smiles from the rest of the gathered men.

"You betcha." Affirmed Muck, grin sliding more towards a reminiscent smirk, "Heard him say it myself. We all did."

Nods met his words, each having heard the medic stand up to the "Black Swan" and seemingly cruelest of Captains. None yet ready to give him credit for why some of their assess were still alive and kicking today. Maybe someday, but not then nor now.

"That's when we knew." Guarnere added, to which those original men all nodded in agreement.

"Knew what?" Julian asked, head swivelling to look from Muck to Guarnere, features displaying his confusion.

"Christ kid, weren't you listening?" Incredulousness dominated Luz's tone, wondering how replacements could be so absent minded or ignorant of the facts right before their eyes and ears. Certified paratrooper or not.

"It's when we knew we could rely on Doc Roe as our company's medic." Muck clarified, always seeming to have a bit more patience for each replacement to come through Easy.

"Wait, you didn't trust Doc as your medic before that? Why's that?" Eyebrows furrowing at the implication in Muck's words, Heffron felt compelled to ask.

"Think about it. Our captain was Sobel to begin with and the army picked him for that position. Then over half of our numbers are dropping like flies because they can't keep up. Just look who we have now as a CO. And then at the time, we hardly had the chance to get to know him. Only an insane man wouldn't of been worried." Muck waved his arms as he answered, having no trouble in receiving small nods from the others at his explanation.

"Wait a minute, how did Doc not get into trouble or get reassigned after that?" Julian gave voice to the question that had nagged at Heffron since hearing the story in the first place.

"Well, you see, Colonel Sink heard about what happened. Only a slightly tweaked version. He heard that Doc discovered one of the men had appendicitis and, despite us being on a training exercise, carried the man back on litter after we all executed evac protocols." Guarnere supplied, as he was called in to provide witness to the event, "Roe was commended and so was Sobel, so he really couldn't then say it was all his fault the situation became so serious to begin with."

"Yeah, he couldn't throw Doc under the bus without throwing himself under it. So Doc got off without a formal reprimand." Malarkey couldn't help the smile that'd bloomed on his face at remembering the look on their former captain's face as he announced Roe's promotion.

"That didn't mean that Sobel went easy on him though." Muck piped up, eyebrows raising to empathise his point.

"When did Sobel ever go easy on any of us?" Luz's tone suggested he know the exact answer to his own question; never.

"There's that one time he made the medics need a medic." Malarkey countered, turning stiffly to give the technical sergeant a look.

"That wasn't taking it easy on us." Luz's brow pinched as he frown, seemingly affronted, waving a hand out in a grand gesture of 'you serious?'.

"No, but it gave Doc and Oats a break." Malarkey smirked in satisfaction as Luz's expression dropped, before his eyebrows jumped up and he gave a half nod in consent to the loophole Malarkey had found in his reasoning.

"Whadda mean medics needin' a medic?" Heffron questioned, glancing around at all the guys in their circle, wondering who'd fill in the missing blanks.

"Made Doc Roe and Doc Oats play wounded while they had us patch them up and evacuate them." Malarkey explained, tucking his hands around himself as he spoke.

"Christ, better tell the story by the way they're lookin' we won't get no peace til they hear it." Guarnere spoke up at seeing the intrigued expressions on the two newest men to Easy.

"Corporal Roe! Corporal Oats! On me!"

The called went up from Sobel's position, whilst everyone else paused. Two sets of footsteps signalled the medics making their way over to their CO.

"Corporal Roe, you have been shot in the stomach. Corporal Oats, you've had your legs blown off." Sobel relayed instructions to the two corporals in a clipped tone, managing to sound both monotone and as if this were a matter of the utmost importance that they'd all assuredly fail, then turning to a dress everyone in the platoon, "You men are now causalities, while the rest of you have to execute proper first aid without the help of your medics."

At this both medics complied, laying on the ground as Sobel's assigned a few men to each medic. Standing not far off to observe each team as they ran through the motions of treating the "injured" men. Ensuring neither medic helped the steps along by speaking to the men.

"Wait, wait, don't we give morphine before or after bandaging?"

"After." Oats whispered through his teeth, hoping they'd hear and move on.

"What's that doc?" The idiot asked, leaning forward more so in an obvious attempt to hear what he'd missed.

At noting this Sobel began stepping towards to them, Oats reached up to grab the other man's uniform, "My legs! My legs! I'm bleeding out! Dear God, I'm gonna die!"

Then pushing off he pretended to groan and shiver in agony. Exaggerated but it got the point across. And caused Sobel to retreat back to his position, but had the private flinching back and fumbling with the bandage. Stunned by the suddenness of the cries, even if the authenticity of them seemed exaggerated by the private.

"Get that bandage on now!" Lipton snapped, crouching by Oats' other side, "Make it tight."

"Yes sir." mumbled the private, glad to have been given direction and complied quickly,

"Now administer the morphine." Lipton further instructed, "Hoob, same with the other leg. Make 'em tight! Shifty, Malarkey get that stretcher set up and prepare to move him!"

Clipped 'yes, sarge' met his ears as the men hopped to. Efficient in their movements under the attentive direction of Sergeant Lipton, those men had Corporal Oats on the stretcher and off the Aid Station quickly. Receiving only a fleeting frown of disquiet ( more like disappointment at NOT being able to find fault or make up one in their technique ) thrown their way by Sobel. It had those who caught the expression quickly sniggering as they hauled the stretcher over to the awaiting jeep and carried out evac of their medic.

Meanwhile, Winters slid in between Muck and Guarnere, the latter pressing a bandage on the medics torso while both the formers leant their strength to lift Roe into a sitting position. Guarnere then moving to tie the bandage tightly around the medic's back.

"Check fer an exit wound." The supposed unconscious medic mumbled, head lulling forward to hide the movement of his lips.

"Guarnere, check for an exit wound." Lieutenant Winters ordered, having caught Roe's whispered words without batting an eye, "We'll have to bandage that as well if there's one."

"There ain't no exit wound, sir." Sergeant Guarnere reported back after given the Doc's back a once over, despite it being a mock scenario. It may turn out real one day once they got into combat.

"All right, lay him down and give morphine." Winters assisted in laying Roe back down, then watched when Muck pulled the faux morphine out of the medic bag and injected it into Roe's thigh.

"Pin it." The 'downed' medic groaned once before relaxing entirely when the 'morphine' took effect.

...

"Corporal Roe! Private Spina!"

The call interrupted the story but was unlike one calling for the Easy's medics for a medical emergency; controlled, a slight bored and coming from Lieutenant Dike. A manner in which everyone knew the lieutenant wouldn't call for a medic if he'd required one. Still the call had summoned both medics rather quickly. Each with their medical bags slung over their shoulders as if it were another limb, never were they seen without it.

"Fox company says they need a medic for one of their men. Something about him being real sick and not knowing what to do." The lieutenant seemed bored at having to play messenger, his information neither helpful nor sympathetic.

"Okay. I'll go." Roe spoke up first, glancing over to Spina to offer a small nod of agreement before he broke apart from the small group to head towards where Fox company was stationed.

"Damn, now F company's stealing our medics." Penkala complained, expression displaying his disquiet over the concept.

"Come on, Pen, didn't your mother ever tell you sharing is caring?" Luz quipped, tone amused though muffled around the cigarette that dangled from his lips.

"Oh ha ha." Penkala's tone was bathed in sarcasm, but softened towards admission on his next words, "But it's nothing against Spina, but Doc Roe has been with us since the beginning."

"Ah, c'mon Alex. Spina isn't some replacement!- - No offence, kid. He'll take care of us." Luz defended Easy's secondary medic, interrupting himself to apologise to Julian then continuing his previous statement.

"Yeah after all the training he received ; the medical stuff and what the army threw at them." Muck added.

"The medics had to do both?" Heffron questioned, not having given it much thought before ; always thought medics were trained in battlefield medicine but never realised that yeah, they'd have to have done the standard boot camp as everyone else.

"Yep, once Doc, Doc Roe that is, left for the day to do medical training, not returning until the end of our big Friday night march. And he missed it." Malarkey answered, remembering that day rather well since Sobel made them all stand at attention while he reamed Roe out.

"He was excused for it in the first place." Muck chimed in, feeling compelled to ensure that was known.

"But here he was getting chewed out by Sobel as were arriving back and is told to gear up and do the march himself!" Malarkey nodded at the addition, continuing along Muck's train of thought.

"Twelve miles in the fucking rain. And Sobel didn't let up on him after that either." Guarnere shook his head, anger still fresh when thinking of that man.

"'Just because you were chosen for the medic corps doesn't give you permission to slack on your basic training, corporal!'" Luz impersonated, causing the others to grimace and laugh because it was a perfect reiteration of their last CO.

"What else happened?" Julian, intrigued by the flow of stories and ignorant to the other's expressions, asked.

"Made Doc run up Currahee with one of them sand dummies in arms a few times." Muck obliged, smiling lightly at remembering the visual the memory conjured up.

"Then there was the medic call drills." Luz added, much to the groans and pulled faces of the original Toccoa men sitting around the group.

"Ah! I remember those because they'd wake us all up. Sobel yelling out medic in the middle of the night during training marches were the worst." Muck had to laugh at the memories though, things never were dull back at training.

"MEDIC!"

"God fucking dammit, why do we all have to suffer with this one?" Perconte muffled moan sounded from where he had his face pressed into his pillow.

The soft scuffling of the two medics methodically scrambling to dress and snatch their gear was heard amongst the shifting of sheets as many rolled over in attempt of falling asleep all the quicker. A sudden loud thump, followed by a quiet aborted shout and lowly muttered cursing coming from the ground prompted a few to sit up in their bunks.

"Medic down!" A whispered yell filled with mock urgency came from the darkness.

"Very funny, ha ha." The sarcasm saturated reply came from Private Earnest Oats, snippy when woken but on par with all matters medical. "Now shut it or I'll make you."

"Oops. Thought it was Roe." The offender identified himself through his unmistakeable snicker, it was Luz.

"I ain't tha' clumsy." The soft lilt belonging to Corporal Eugene Roe carried through.

"Fuck you 'Gene!" Snapped response only elicited a rise in the sound about the barracks, each man trying to snuffle laughter while some unabashedly smiled into the darkness. All thoughts of being awake at this ungodly hour currently forgotten.

"MEDIC! WHERE ARE MY GODDAMN MEDICS!"

All noise then ceased, minus that of two separate sets of footsteps pelting the wood flooring and the smack of the screen door closing behind their backs.

"I don't envy those two."

"Shut up an' go back to sleep."

"Yeesh, sir yes grumpy sir."

A sharp yip signalled Luz being quieted by both his bunk mates stretching their throwing arms and smacking him with their pillows.

. . .

"MEDIC! MEDIC UP FRONT!"

"I swear I'm going to choke him with a bandage the next time he's a causality." Grumbled and fatigue infested that the comment was didn't stop Oats from rising quickly from his bunk to lace his boots.

"Oo such hostility, aren't medics supposed to be noncombatants?" Someone along the rows of bunks quipped, drowsily but with none of their amusement effected by it.

"You're next if you don't zip it."

All fell quiet until an hour later when the two medics trudged back into the barracks, simply flopping onto their bunks. Disregarding hygiene and comfort that changing out of their full uniform would bring for the bit of sleep they could obtain.

. . .

"MEDIC UP! MEDIC UP!"

Mere groans from the light sleepers of the bunch could be heard behind the sound of the two men in question flinging themselves out of bed and jogging back out the door. None having the energy after three nights in a row of this to add any snippy or witty comments after the two retreating forms. If anything, most were feeling a moderate bit of pity for the poor medics. Least they could roll over and fall back asleep.

. . .

"MEDIC! NEED A MEDIC HERE!"

"'Gene, what's the penalty for harming a CO?"

"More than it's worth, Oats."

"As said by you."

"Jus' don't forget yer helmet this time."

"I hate you."

. . .

"MEDIC UP! MEDIC UP FRONT!"

"He's gonna need a goddamn medic! I'm not going, I'll help any man who needs it but this is fucking ridicul- oaf! Gene, what the fuck? Put me down!"

This outburst had many lifting their heads to see Roe trudging out of the barracks with Oats slung over his back. Soft laughter, huffs and outright guwaffs, followed them out the door while some merely stared in confused astonishment, wondering if they were dreaming or Roe finally cracked at all of Oats negativity.

"What is this!" Was heard moments later in Captain Sobel's nasally tone, which immediately hushed the whole of the barracks.

"Practicin' carryin' a wounded man, sir."

The beat of silence had everyone holding their breath. Some wincing at the words, not wanting Roe to get in trouble but one never knew with Sobel. Plus none wanting to incur his wrath on the anyone else, themselves and all other parties, thus they remained tensely quiet.

"I see. Corporal Oats, you're the causality in this exercise." Sobel's voice drifted to those still situated in the barracks once they realised they weren't about to hear a dressing down.

"Ha, Roe just screwed himself."

"Only 'cuz he was trying not to get Oats court martialed."

"There's no justice when it comes to Sobel."

"Here, Here! Now go the fuck back to sleep!"

. . .

"MEDIC!"

At that pronouncement, everybody within the barracks leapt in their bunks. The sound having come from inside the four wall confines of their sleeping quarters. Yet none dare utter a word of protest, merely scrambling from their sheets ( some tangling themselves to merely flop on the floor ) to rush to stand at attention at the end of their bunks in a perfect line of troopers. Bed head and rumpled clothing be damned at the moment, merely needing to obey and hope for the best.

Both medics shot up, barely able to blink the sleep from their eyes before Sobel marched right up to them. Eyes narrowed and staring down his long nose, height difference having no effect on the this action of the captain.

"Private Smith, on me!"

Smith was up and out of his bunk faster than any man had seen the kid move. Funny how adrenaline worked like that.

"You have been wounded. Get on the ground."

Smith complied without hesitation, laying out flat on the wooden flooring of the barracks.

"Corporals Roe, Oats, Private Smith has been wounded. Demonstrate proper procedures for tending and evacuating a wounded man."

...

"I remember that night. Three in the fucking morning. And everyone got a turn." For once Luz's expression didn't hold a lick of humour nor amusement, remembering the lack of sleep then rivalled any sleepless nights he had in the field thus far.

"Yeah. Thank God when Guarnere got his promotion" Muck added, raising a hand in mock cheers to said man across from him.

"Ha! Yeah, he'd look at me with this look of 'there's someone more nuts than I am'" Guarnere had to laugh, Sobel's face every time he said he'd give double the punishment and really rag on those 'in trouble'. He'd never forget it.

This rose another wave of chuckles from the original Easy members. Each having their own reason to thank Guarnere for getting them out of a punishment that was both underserved and would have taken time, energy and spirit away from their true training. He couldn't save their passes but he could usually save them from anymore overwhelming exhaustion.

"You really saved us a lot a misery then." Muck wouldn't let their fellow dismiss this praise, recalling all the torment Sobel put them through gave each a greater appreciation for the little victories against him.

"Nah, just used it to make my name good." Guarnere countered easily, sending a wink towards the group's newbies as if it was some big secret he'd shared with them.

"Yeah-huh, sure." Sarcasm held firm within Muck's tone, though he dropped the matter, allowing the other to keep his reputation of a tough crafty bastard.

Everyone fell quiet in their conversation as Joe passed out their rations for the noon meal. Nothing anyone was overly eager to eat but was willing if only to keep up their strength and appease an empty belly.

"Remember the training exercise in Albourne?" Malarkey suddenly addressed the group, unable to fight the grin off his features.

"The one where Sobel got us all killed?" Muck asked to clarify which training exercise exactly, there'd been many but only a few so notable.

Malarkey's grin turned Cheshire-like, "The one where Sobel was a wounded man."

The peals of laughter left each man near gasping or snorting in their attempts for it not to become too loud. While Heffron and Julian looked on confused, their own lips curling upwards at the others' mirth despite them being in the dark about whatever it was about.

"Wait, wait what happened?" Julian, curving his instinctive chuckling at the good mood to ask the question that bubbled in the forefront of both him and Heffron's minds.

"Well, you see…"

"Hey, Doc?" Guarnere called to Roe, who'd finished wrapping gauze around the Sergeant's arm.

"Yes, sarge?" The medic's gaze flicked up to the Sergeant's before returning to the task at hand.

"How about you medics get some real practice, hm? Why don't you give a certain someone a real incision?"

Roe stared at Guarnere, mind having deduced exactly who the Sergeant was implying but he wasn't certain if the other man was joking with him as he did with the others or if he was serious. Blue gaze searching momentarily, only to realise he was serious, had the medic's eyebrows raising in an attempt to meet his hairline.

Grimace having fallen away after a spell, to reveal a thin lipped half smile. Llicking his lips breifly, Roe patted Guarnere on the shoulder once, "I'll see what I can do. We need the practice afta'all."

"That's the spirit!" Guarnere returned the gesture before laying back to finish playing his part as a causality.

"What! Now you have to be pullin' my leg!" Heffron exclaimed, interrupting unintentionally, straightening his posture in expressing full bodied incredulousness.

"Nope. Never seen the medics so gleeful to be cutting into someone." Guarnere's smirk highlighted his features, displaying his delight for full view.

"Wouldn't you want to?" Muck questioned, tone suggesting it'd been the thought of all members of Easy at one point or another, "Hell I'm upset that I couldn't do it!"

Heffron almost couldn't believe that their soft spoken medic could have done that, "It's just hard to believe that was Doc."

"Eh, I'm sure given another chance he'd cut into Sobel again." Penkala's statement drew up several comments of agreement and an offer to do it himself from Luz.

"Thought medics couldn't do no harm or somethin'?" Still struggling to wrap his kind around it, Heffron asked further, remembering something he'd heard about doctors when he and some buddies of his had to secretly take another friend to the hospital after an interesting night post graduation.

"Putting Sobel out of commission for that week saved us from harm, kid." Guarnere stated, features completely serious. |

"You got that right." Muck nodded, wrapping his coat a bit tighter around himself at the breeze that blew by then, but didn't dampen his amused smile any, "Easiest week Easy company ever saw!"

"What's all this? We can't be congregating like this, what if your position gets hit? That's minus seven of our numbers!"

Their little party was interrupted, much to everyone's concealed disappointment, by one Lieutenant Dike. Him marching up to the outskirts of their foxholes and scowling at the numbers sitting around or within the standardise hole.

"Sorry, sir, we were just movin' on." Guarnere spoke up, keeping his tone cordial despite his internal feelings on Easy's new CO, "Right, guys?"

Servers chorus of 'yeps' and a few 'yes, sir's from the lower ranking individuals had Dike nodding then moving along without even a glance back to ensure they dispersed. Though Guarnere initiated it by standing, Luz and the former mortar squad trio followed.

"Figures he'd show up just when it got good!" Mumbled Heffron, though it was loud enough for the others to hear, causing several guffaws and a promise from Muck to return to tell more stories later.

A/N: some of the past stories mentioned here are intentionally left open ended because I plan to extend on them in later chapters, especially in the next installment of this series. so look forward to seeing those in more detail at a later date.

nothing in here is historical fact, it's based on it but take nothing as truth in here. if you want to know which is true or the stories / information that inspired this & bits in here, let me know & i'll be happy to tell you.

constructive criticism is always welcome, but as always never necessary. thank you for merely taking the time to read this.