Author's note: This is not a fanfiction where the plot is changed because of one character; in this story, I simply added my character to the story line. The plot remains mostly the same, but follows my character instead. This is based off the actor's portrayal, NO DISRESPECT INTENDED. My highest gratitude to all the men and women who have served and continue to serve the United States, Canada, and every other country. God bless you all. Thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoy.

Warning for coarse language, sexual themes, and violence in later chapters

Part 1.1- Currahee

"Everyone has oceans to fly, if they have the heart to do it. Is it reckless? Maybe. But what do dreams know of boundaries"- Amelia Earhart

Griest stood stiffly off to the side as the soldiers walked around her. Everyone was dressed in their fatigues and in their full gear. Her parachute and harness rubbed her shoulders painfully as she rotated her arms in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. She bit back a curse when she realized she would never be comfortable as long as this was all on her back. Her legs shook under the extra weight as she rolled her neck impatiently.

"Easy Company, listen up!" Lieutenant Meehan shouted as Griest slowly shuffled towards the CO. Others followed her each wearing their own discomfort and anxiety on their faces. "Come on; hurry it up!" Griest stood near the edge of the group as she crossed her arms and looked around. Luz and Guarnere stood on either side of her as they all listened.

"The Channel coat is soaked in with rain and fog; there is heavy winds on the drop zone," he continued shouting to be heard. His hard eyes ran over everyone. "The invasion has been postponed; we are on a 24 hour stand-down. There will be no drop tonight."

Everyone groaned and dropped their equipment as Guarnere hissed, "Son of a bitch."

"Drill sergeants, take charge," Meehan finished before leaving the annoyed company. They all hissed curses as the sergeants stepped up and began issuing orders. After some talk, they were dismissed and sent away to take everything off and wash off the camouflage paint they had spent an hour preparing.

"Come on, Chucky," Luz hissed with a grin almost hiding his own annoyance at the sudden turn. "You're a girl; this means you get to spend more time in front of a mirror, I hear girls like that stuff."

"Most girls are at home cooking supper, wearing a pink dress, and faithfully waiting for their man to come home," Skip added with a slight shake of his head, "Chucky is here, wearing army pants with a rifle at her side, and waiting to jump into some war."

"We'll get there soon enough," Luz assured as they shuffled their way back to the barracks to change.

"That's easy for you guys to say," she huffed as she struggled to keep up, "this shit weights more than I do; you know how hard it is to get all this on and off again?"

"Hey, you chose this life," Guarnere offered with a shrug as Griest rolled her eyes.

"It's not exactly what I pictured." She bit her lip as she pushed her helmet higher up on her forehead. "I expected less confusion and more certainty; I hate being postponed, let's just get it done with already."

"We would have been more confused with him in charge." Luz gave her a look as she rolled her eyes again. Everyone else released a groan as curses were uttered once again.

"Don't you even get started on him," Guarnere warned as he spat onto the ground.

"Hey, I hate the guy just as much as you do, but you gotta admit, we're here because of him." Penkala looked around at everyone.

"Yeah and so is the permanent blister on my foot," Griest growled with a shake of her head. They returned to their barracks and changed out of their clothes and back into their brown and green uniforms. Griest stared at the mirror and adjusted the side cap on her head maneuvering her bun so it sat securely at the base of her neck. Her eyes looked up and down at the girl she no longer recognized. Her skin, which was hidden under the black paint she had marked her face with, had darkened after the long, tough days in the sun, her hands were tough and callused, and her body frame had grown slightly with a layer of lean muscle. Even her eyes were darker, ready for whatever lay ahead. She shook her head and looked down at her shined boots before she stepped outside and joined the rest of Easy, but her mind wandered back to the old days, to Toccoa.

Two years earlier, Camp Toccoa, Georgia

"You people are at the position of attention!" Sobel ordered gruffly as the men stood straight and pushed away their pounding feet, rumbling bellies, and exhausted shoulders. Lieutenant Sobel watched them with hard eyes as he scrutinized anything he could find.

"Private Perconte, have you been blousing your trousers over your boots like a paratrooper?" He shouted when he finally picked a poor victim.

"No, sir," the young man responded as he stared forward otherwise ignoring Sobel's words and the spit that landed on his cheek. He knew there was no crease on his pants, they all knew it, but they had learned to remain quiet when dealing with Sobel.

"Then explain the creases at the bottom," Sobel pushed as Perc fought back the urge to roll his eyes.

"No excuse, sir." Sobel gave him a look before moving onto the next unfortunate soul after revoking Perconte's weekend pass, but there was no surprise there. Easy had forgotten what a weekend pass was or what you did.

"Name." Sobel stood in front of a smaller man with dark hair and watching eyes.

"Luz, George," the man responded.

"Well, Private Luz, you-"

"Lieutenant Sobel," a new voice interrupted the lieutenant. Sobel turned around ready to screech at the man who dared to cut him off. He stared into the face of his first sergeant, William Evans. He saluted the lieutenant and held a letter in his hands. "I have orders directly from Major Horton."

Sobel snatched the letter from Evans' hands as he looked at the small figure standing behind Evans. It was a girl; she was tiny standing at 5'4'' with long, strawberry blonde hair that was braided and secured at the base of her neck in a tight bun. Her face was a cream colour with bright red cheeks and a full face with thick eyelashes. She was standing at attention and wore the same green uniform and helmet everyone else was. A brown rifle stood by her arm gleaming in the light.

"Who the hell is that?" Malarkey whispered as he glanced at the people around him. They all shared his look but none of them had answers; they certainly didn't want to get caught whispering, Sobel didn't need anything else to hold over their heads.

"A girl? In Easy?" Sobel spat as he threw the letter to the ground in a crumpled ball. "Not going to happen, not in my company."

"Sir, those orders are directly from Major Horton; there is no choice," Evans muttered glancing up nervously not wanting to be caught in Sobel's rage. Sobel opened his mouth to argue but then closed it knowing there was nothing he could do without disobeying a direct order. He looked at the girl and stepped in front of her. She stared forward as she breathed deeply. She looked perfectly comfortable as if she had been born standing at attention and could do it for ages. Sobel waited for her to crack, to wince, or shift her weight but the girl remained like stone.

Finally, Sobel spoke, "Let me be crystal clear: women do not belong in war except the kitchen or as a nurse. I am only allowing you here until I can straighten this out with Major Horton, are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!" She shouted forcefully. Her voice was a strong alto that made the men glance at one another. It was soft and whispery like the wind, but the wind had the ability to break down stone. It also held a granite quality while being passionate like a fire.

"You will train with Easy until then, but you will receive no special treatment from me. I expect you to do the same thing as these men; if not, you will be out of here faster than your legs can carry you. What is your name?"

"Private Griest," she answered as Easy looked around with wide eyes. A women in Easy was absurd; everyone knew women couldn't go to combat, they couldn't shoot, or fight, let alone kill. She belonged at home.

"Private Griest," Sobel hissed with disdain, already making it his mission to ensure the young girl failed. Paratroopers were a new division in which the men would remain together from the beginning of their training until the end of the war. They had already been at Camp Toccoa for two week where they learned marching, rifle drills, and other aspects of military training. There had been some arguments and problems with her enlistment, which was why she was late. Griest would have to keep up with them if she ever hoped to pass. "This is not the regular infantry; this is Easy Company of the 101st Airborne and I will not have you hold this company back, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" She didn't even bat an eyelash as she waited for Sobel to release her.

"Men," Sobel addressed as he turned and faced Easy Company. The men stood tall and stared forward sneaking glances at the girl. "This is Private Griest, a minor annoyance that will be dealt with. There is to be no fraternizing with her. Private Griest, I do not need you distracting my men, so absolutely no flirting or any of your woman charms. You will not assist Private Griest and you will not encourage her. Is this understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Everyone chorused, but this time there was a higher voice mixed in; it was strange to the men who made faces.

"Griest fall in at the back," Sobel ordered as she ran towards her new place. The men glanced at her and examined her before shaking their heads; she was too skinny, too lanky to be able to survive the next few days. Sobel might not even have to speak with Major Horton, she might quit by that time.

"Lieutenant Winters, break her into shape as I set up a room for her," Sobel growled. Winters responded with the appropriate, sir, yes, sir before he ordered them all to drop down and push it out as Sobel entered the barracks.

After about five minutes of physical exertion, the cross lieutenant returned and ordered them all back to attention. Then he continued his examination of the men. Luz had some dirt on his rifle, pass revoked. Lipton had a string hanging from his badge, pass revoked. Malarkey had some rust on the butt end of his rifle, pass revoked. Liebgott had a rusty blade, pass revoked. Griest had some mud on the top of her boot, though not that Winters saw, her hair was out of place, and her lips were "too red" to be natural, pass revoked.

"Because of the infractions of the wench and these men, all your weekend passes have been revoked. Now, let's welcome the wench to Easy Company; everyone get into your PT gear, we're running Currahee."

"Second platoon, fall out. We have two minutes," Winters ordered as the men ran to the barracks to change. Griest grabbed her canvas bag as Sobel lead her to her bed. It was inside the barracks at the back corner. The only difference was a thin, partially see through sheet had been placed creating a sliding curtain between her and the rest of the men.

"This curtain will be closed, and only closed, at lights out until 0500 hours, is that understood?" Sobel growled.

"Yes, sir!" The captain stepped away as Griest grabbed the curtain and began to pull it shut.

"I said at lights out until 0500 hours, wench!" Sobel shrieked as he turned his rage on the girl. Griest released the sheet as if it were fire and nodded. Then Sobel grinned as he turned away. "Get changed, you have one minute."

Griest's face paled slightly as she glanced at the men. Some of Easy had turned away so they could change quickly without her eyes on them, but most of them were just as nervous and uncomfortable as she was. One soldier in particular, Dylan Culil, a muscular, attractive Caucasian with a large nose smiled at her as he flashed her a wink and licked his lips. Griest turned away and began to pull her shirt off feeling Culil's eyes on her like acid. Anyone, even the men, could tell her underclothes were made by people who had never worn a bra, or knew anything about a bra. It was bulky, large, and did not offer the required support. Griest had to make her own adjustments to make sure she didn't fall out. Even then, she had a shirt wrapped around her chest to keep everything in place. She changed quickly but was the second last one outside, Culil was the last.

Easy Company ran through the camp at a leisurely pace as they complained about Sobel and about the "infractions" he had found. The other companies laughed and jeered as they ran past.

"Don't worry, guys," one man called, "we'll take your dates to a movie."

"Holy shit, is that a girl?" Everyone looked at the small figure running alongside them. She had a feminine face and figure, too feminine for any male. "No wonder they don't need their weekend passes anymore, they got their own fun!" They laughed while others cursed at her. Griest remained silent and kept running as if she never heard a word they said.

"How far up, how far down?" Sobel shouted as Easy ran up the dreaded hill.

"Three miles up, three miles down," they chanted in a ragged, tired breathes. Griest was in the middle of the pack but had no problem keeping up; running was her strength and she was at a slower pace than what she could handle. She kept that to herself, more because she didn't want to catch Sobel's attention and make the men suffer again. Instead, she focused on her breathing, the pounding of feet, and the road beneath her. Lieutenant Sobel wasn't the only person who believed she didn't belong there, but she would show them. She knew Sobel's argument with Major Horton would be in vain and would only leave him even angrier than before. She rolled her eyes and as pushed herself to a faster pace wanting to break free of the formation and run. A man in front of her tripped as the men around him reached out to help him.

"Do not help that man!" Sobel ordered. "Do not help that man!"

A few minutes later Griest got her wish; the formation was broken as the men were ordered to sprint to the top. Griest broke free and pumped her arms and legs enjoying the air in her lungs and the burning in her legs. She passed the men easily and was the second to the top; the first was a shy looking guy with black hair and dark, mysterious eyes. Griest ran past Lieutenant Winters as he shouted out encouragement to his men, an act she respected.

"Come on, you can make it! Go! Go! Go!" Winters gave her a subtle nod as she sprinted past him. She looked forward as she continued to run. Maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought.

They finished the night with a 12 mile march in full gear. Griest struggled with the weight; it was over half her body weight. The girl fought and was one of the last ones to finish, but she did it.

The next few days followed the same routine; wake up at the crack of dawn for a run, more strength training, some food, more running, jump training, another march, inspection, and finally bedtime. It was all the same in that she excelled in the running, did okay in the physical strength, and not so great in the full gear marches but she was getting better, though that didn't stop Sobel from blaming her. Sobel had his argument with Major Horton and, as Griest predicted, came back even madder than before. Griest was here to stay.

The men mostly ignored her but kept glancing at her as if trying to figure her out; Griest had gotten used to the looks and ignored them. Culil, however, always watched her when she changed and would always say and do suggestive things when Sobel wasn't around. However, Griest believed the lieutenant wouldn't do anything to deter the young private even if Sobel did see.

Talbert woke up one night to the sound of huffed, ragged breathing and the pounding of feet. He investigated and found Griest at the back of the barracks practicing marching, rifle drills, push-ups, jumping jacks, and pull-ups. Due to the problems with her enrollment at the camp, she never received any instruction on proper military etiquette and attitudes; marching, talking, and standing at attention was something she had to learn for herself. She struggled to the point Sobel could taste her failing the camp, but she was determined. Sweat beaded down her face as her cheeks turned a brilliant scarlet, but she kept going. Her movements were slow and awkward but got better as she went. Talbert regarded her with a thin smile and went back to bed. He and Lipton found her doing the same thing night after night. Griest's marching got better, her drills were crisp and sharp, and her endurance improved; it was as if she had been there since the beginning. She was keeping up with the men and did better than others.

One day there was a slight change to the routine. Sobel raced them to figure out who was the fastest. They ran Currahee and waited at the barracks for the slower ones. Those who got there first were allowed some down time to bring their frantic heart rates back under control. Griest was the second one there. The first was the shy, black haired man who had beaten her once before. The man reminded her of a young buck prancing through the forest with an unmatchable grace, speed, and finesse. Griest wasn't overly competitive and found she admired the young man. As per usual, he was sitting on the ground panting heavily when Griest collapsed to her knees beside him. Sweat rolled down her face and neck as she rolled to her back exhausted.

"You're fast," she said after a long moment of silence. The man, she had observed, was quiet and only spoke when spoken to, and even then he kept to himself. She, on the other hand, didn't like silence for a certain amount of time and needed to break it whether by talking, tapping her finger, or even grinding her teeth, anything that would break the reticent blanket.

"Ya, so are you," his voice was low and gruff with a Southern accent. It was soft and made her smile, something she hadn't done yet at Toccoa.

"Thanks, I'm Private Griest," she introduced offering him her hand with narrowed eyes. Some men refused to shake a female's hand, most just ignored her. The man took it and shook it in a strong, yet delicate grip. Griest nodded impressed.

"Private Eugene Roe, nice to meet ya. So what's your first name?" Roe asked with a crinkled brow. No one had heard Sobel say the girl's first name; most people would believe her name was wench, or bitch; however, Sobel argued he only called her witch, but the rest of Easy always heard a distinct b at the front of that word.

She gave him a sideways glance and she grinned promising trouble, excitement, and adventure. "Doesn't matter, I never respond to it anyways; Griest will work or whatever you wanna call me." Roe nodded with a grin as some others joined them. They both grew quiet again but would give each other looks when something was said they disagreed with. They even began eating together, where before Griest ate alone and Roe sat at the end of some bench listening but never joining in.

They were eating lunch one day when a man, Christenson, bumped into Griest as she made her way to her table. She had been at the camp for about two weeks, but everyone, except Roe, kept her at a distance. She absorbed the blow and stood straight glaring at Popeye daring him to do something else. The company watched carefully as some kept an eye on the officers; they were all in the line and hadn't seen anything, or acted like it.

"Thanks for that run, Griest, that was great!" Christenson hissed as Griest rolled her eyes and walked around the man. That morning, Sobel took away their weekend passes and ordered them up Currahee because Griest had a hair out of place and she had dirt on the butt of her rifle. Griest knew the hair placement was bullshit; she was meticulous about her hair so she knew how to keep it pinned back so it wouldn't fall out. The rifle was also nonsense, but she was less inclined to argue that.

"I'm not done with you!" Christenson argued as he followed her. She sat down at her table and stared up at him with bored yet listening eyes. Roe was still in line so she sat by herself as Christenson expelled his frustrations. He yelled at her and blamed her for everything.

"Hey, Christenson, piss off; you know Sobel would have found something, Griest is just his favourite person to pick on," a young man argued as he joined them. He was shorter with dark hair and eyes. Griest knew him to be George Luz; he was a good soldier with a sharp mind and always had something funny to say. The men loved his jokes, banter, and impressions; he kept their spirits up. Griest also knew he slept around with girls when they did have a rare weekend pass. She had come to respect and rely on his humour to keep her going, as long as he never tried anything on her. So far, Luz had said nothing to her.

"Come on, you know the girl did nothing wrong," Luz finished as he stared at Christenson. The man nodded knowing Luz was right; he wasn't mad at Griest but Sobel had made it very clear that everything was her fault, so it was easier to get mad at her. Sobel had decided that if the physical component of training would not get her to quit, then maybe the men's hate and disdain would. It was a smart plan. Christenson walked off and joined his friends at a far table as Luz looked down at her.

"Man, you are probably the second most hated person here, how do you stand it? Me, I would-"

"Look," she interrupted placing her fork down. Her eyes were a pale green-grey that seemed to shift and change according to her mood. When she was angry, focused, or in soldier-mode, her eyes were more grey and would resemble a bayonet. When she was happy, compassionate, or in human-mode, they were green and looked like a grassy field. Later, the men used her eye colour to gauge her moods; however, they had never seen them green. At that moment, they were a bright silver with veins of green. She continued in an icy voice, "I appreciate your help but I got it covered. Despite what you, Sobel, and everyone else thinks, I am not here to hook up and taste the army boys. I am here to become the best damn paratrooper you have ever seen and to kill Krauts. I know your habits with women, Private Luz, which is fine, but not with me. So hold on until the next blue moon for our weekend pass and fulfill those desires on some naive girl with long eyelashes, long legs, and a pink dress, cause I'm not interested. We good?"

"Oh," Luz muttered speechless for the first time he could remember. He blinked as Griest looked away and resumed eating her meal. "Ahh, sure, yeah; see you later, I guess." Luz rejoined Lipton, Guarnere, Skip, and Liebgott as his table as they watched him expectantly.

"So how did it go?" Skip asked with a grin.

"Apparently, she's here to kill Krauts," Luz grumbled as he imitated a high pitched hiss; it was too scratchy and shrilly to be Griest but it got the idea across. Luz sat down and began eating the slop the army called food.

"I don't know, guys," Guarnere muttered looking over Luz at the girl, "I hate myself for saying it, but I agree with Sobel; women don't belong in war, certainly not in the paratroopers. Maybe a secretary or nurse, but not here; they ain't tough enough."

"I'm not sure," Lipton said with a shake of his head, "it's been a few weeks and she's still here."

"So?" Liebgott grumbled eating some more food.

"Look at her; she has it harder than any of us. She has a CO who hates her even more than he hates us, she has to do things some men twice her size and double the muscle have difficulty with, she assumes everyone hates her, and she has to put up with that." Lip pointed to Culil who stared at her as if she were prey. The men shivered uncomfortably before looking back to her. She'd seen the look but remained stoic as if nothing happened.

"I'm not sayin she ain't tough and I'm not saying I don't like her, I don't know her well enough to not like her, but would you want her guarding your back in the middle of a fight? Would you trust her?" Guarnere pushed.

"None of us know her well enough to make that call," Skip said as Lip glanced over his shoulder at her. She was sitting and eating her meal contently ignoring the stares everyone flashed her. She looked untouchable, as if from another world, one the men couldn't ever hope to see. Her figure had grown more muscular since arriving, but Lip wondered if it would be enough to make it through the rest of training. She glanced up and met his eyes for a moment as he looked away with burning ears.

"Someone should talk to her and see what she's like," he offered.

"I did and it did not go well," Luz huffed shrugging his shoulders.

"Were you talking to her or about to hit on her?" Lipton asked raising an eyebrow. Luz opened his mouth as he looked up. His eyes moved back and forth before nodding in resignation. Eventually, at some point of the conversation, he would have hit on her. "See? She knows that; someone just needs to talk to her to get to know her, not try to get into her pants."

"Doc gets along with her," Bull added as he sat beside them after listening in on their conversation for the past few minutes. They looked at the raven haired medic who sat down across from her.

"They quiet ones always stay together," Skip muttered.

"Doc's a good judge of character, so if he trusts her..." Lipton let his voice fade as they watched the pair. Doc Roe was the quietest of the men but he was a good, dedicated man. Easy trusted him and was happy to have him for their medic; he was fast, calm under pressure, and committed to his medical practice and the men. He would learn the medical techniques whenever he could between exercises and any free chance Sobel gave them. Sometimes, Griest would let him practice bandaging and splinting on her to help him. Lipton smiled; he had been worried that the two would be too isolated from the rest of the company but they had each other.

"Hmm," Liebgott hummed, "you gotta admit, boys, she's a real looker."

"Too lanky for me," Guarnere said with a shake of his head. "I like my women a little bigger." Griest was thin but still had some curves hidden under her too-big uniform; but, even Guarnere would agree that she had a pretty face. It wasn't modelling material but nice to look at, especially after being surrounded by men for months. She had a small, straight, cute nose, defined cheekbones and jaw, round cheeks, and higher eyebrows, which completed her symmetrical face. Her lips were thick and a darker shade of pink, which framed her white teeth. Her hair, while pulled back, edged her face making her appear younger and paler. Yet it was her eyes that captivated everyone; they looked young and naive but could turn strong, ferocious, and deadly in an instant. They were always full of resiliency and integrity. They reminded Lipton of a lioness.

"She has a beautiful smile," Luz remarked in a sing-song voice.

Liebgott laughed, "She never smiles."

"She does, just not often. Mostly when she's talking to Doc," Luz argued with a shake of his head. Then, as if on cue, Griest smiled at the medic. Her entire face brightened as she became two years younger. The lines around her eyes softened as her eyes turned the colour of a meadow.

Guarnere sighed and looked at the sergeant, "You think she can become a soldier?"

Lipton regarded him for a moment before he pulled a dollar from his pocket, "A dollar says she will." He slapped the bill on the table as everyone oohed.

"A dollar says she's gone by next week," Guarnere bet placing his own dollar beside Lipton's.

"She's gone," Lieb agreed producing his own dollar.

"Goner," Perc called from the table behind Lieb. He reached over and place down a dollar.

"For," Luz said, "she can do it."

"Look, I don't dislike the girl," Skip said, "but she's gone."

"I think you're all too hard on her," Bull grumbled, "she's going to prove you all wrong, and I'll spend this money on cigars." Lipton looked at the money and nodded.

"Okay, three for her staying and four against. We'll see, boys."

"A girl soldier," Nixon marveled looking at Griest from across the mess hall.

"Yes, you said that at breakfast and supper last night, and lunch, and breakfast," Winters reminded with a smile. He glanced at Griest happy to see she had befriended their medic, Eugene Roe, but better known as Doc. He was happy for them both.

"You know, I see it but I can't believe it. Is she here to stay, Dick?" The pair sat down and began eating. Winters looked up and gave him a look.

"She's here on orders from General Taylor. Major Horton and the higher ups want her to fail to prove women shouldn't be in the army, but yes, she's staying until she fails or quits."

"But she's a girl," Nixon hissed.

"So you've said the past few days," Winters repeated with a grin.

"She doesn't belong here," Nix growled, "or next they'll be letting everyone in. What do you think? Do you think females should be combat soldiers?"

"It's not my place to make that call, Nix. She's here so we have to go with it."

"Come on, Dick, it's me you're talking to. Do you think females can do what we do, the things we'll have to do? Is she strong enough?" It always came down to that question: was Griest strong enough?

"I know she's strong enough," Winters muttered in a soft voice, "I've seen her do things that I never thought possible for her. She has this desire, this passion in her eyes that pushes her forward; but the only way we'll know for sure is to see it firsthand.

"She does have it harder than we do," Winters continued after Nixon gave him a look, "she's all alone for the most part; she and the men have this barrier between them. They're testing each other to see who they are. The men wanna know what she's doing here, what she's like, if she's dependable, and if she can carry her own weight. Griest, on the other hand, wants to know where the lines are and who the men will stand with." It reminded him of early cultures trying to determine if the other was an enemy or ally. They didn't start anything but they didn't stop anything either. They just sat back and observed.

"What do you mean 'who they'll stand with'?" Nixon asked.

"Take Culil, he's been harassing her ever since she arrived but she hasn't done anything about it. She could come talk to me or one of the sergeants but she doesn't know if the men will side with him cause he's a male, or with her. She could also take matters into her own hands but she doesn't for the same reasons." The officers watched Culil who licked his lips at Griest, she ignored the gesture.

"So step in if Culil's bothering you." Nixon made a face before he returned to his meal.

"It would further divide them. Even if I acted without her complaining, she'll come across as the snitch and she'll suffer for it. Someone just needs to break through that wall."

"And how will they do that?"

"By passing the test." He paused letting his blue gaze fall on the female private. She was like this untapped wildfire burning with promise and power. "Hopefully they pass it before they segregate each other too much."

Nix nodded before saying, "But you never answered my question: do you think women have a place in combat?" He glanced at Griest who was watching him with narrowed eyes as if knowing Nixon was doubting her abilities. She sat tall and breathed deeply as her shoulders rose and fell. She lifted her chin up watching and waiting for his next move. Nixon looked to Winters but felt her eyes on him like the sun. Winters glanced at Griest wearing a thin smile then it faded as he regarded his friend.

"Do any of us?"

The next few days, they ran several obstacles and practiced jumping off raised stands that stood a few meters off the ground. Griest did well on the jumps and wasn't ridiculed by Sobel. The first obstacle course tested speed and agility; they had to run, jump through tires, and sprint. Griest placed fourth behind Doc, Grant, and Liebgott. The next one measured strength by rope climbing, push-ups, pull-ups, and various other exercises; Griest finished at the end of the middle. The last one combined the two. They dressed in their fatigues and helmet as they held their rifles at their sides. The day was hot and humid as flies buzzed in their faces attracted to their sweat, which already ran down their necks and backs like a waterfall.

Griest stood off by herself as she inspected the course while her stomach felt hollow with dread. The first obstacle was to army crawl under barbed wire through blood and insides from some poor animal. Then there were easier obstacles that relied on speed and nimbleness that went on for about a mile, Griest could do that handcuffed. The last and greatest of challenges was a wall, almost double her height, constructed from flat, wooden planks.

"Easy Company, listen up!" Sobel ordered as they all jumped to attention. "We have completed these obstacles before so I will not go over them. However, Private Griest will be the last person over the wall. Private Randleman will be second last."

"What?" No one knew who broke the silence as everyone muttered to themselves. Griest looked up at Sobel before glancing at the wall feeling even smaller as she shrunk and hunched her shoulders. Her muscles groaned from yesterday's exertion. She wasn't sure if she was strong enough to lift Easy over the wall as she looked at the men. That would be a difficult task for anyone.

"Sir," Winters said stepping forward, "Griest would never be chosen for that task in the field." She was grateful for Winters for taking a stand on her behalf but his words caused her ears to burn as she scrunched up her nose in anger; she could do anything she put her mind to. She was going to prove him wrong.

"Private Griest might be put into a situation where she has no choice, Lieutenant," Sobel hissed as his brow furrowed and he clenched his fist dangerously. "Besides, I warned her she'd be given no special treatment."

"But, sir," Winters tried pushing it.

"Are you going to disobey a direct order, Lieutenant Winters?" Everyone froze as Winters stared forward as blue eyes met brown. The air grew even hotter and stuffier. Winters opened his mouth.

"Ready to go, sir!" Griest shouted jumping forward out of formation. The two officers regarded her as one grinned and the other frowned.

"Very well, fall in! Go! High-ho silver!"

At Sobel's orders, everyone ran forward sliding under the wire. Griest was hit by the rancid smell as she made a face and slowed her advance slightly. Flies droned all around as the scent filled her mouth and nose. She believed it to be the worst smell ever but would be proven wrong on the most tragic of days, the day she stared into the face of true evil. She took in a deep breath and doubled her pace, she would not fail. Skip, however, stopped in front of her staring at a pig intestine that dangled before him forcing Griest to halt.

"What's a matter?" Liebgott called as he crawled in the lane beside her, "Too bloody for you?" He grinned as Griest smacked Skip's boot impatiently urging him onward. She didn't want the entire company waiting for her at the wall because Skip froze. She needed to prove herself to Sobel, Nixon, Winters, the officers who hoped she was here to fail, the men of Easy, and, most importantly, to herself.

"Please," she snorted flashing Liebgott a wink as she crawled forward, "girls see more blood than men."

For the first time, but not the last, Griest was thankful for her height, or lack of. The wire would scrape against her helmet, if anything, but she easily avoided the sharp edges. Bull, Dukeman, and some of the taller men were caught and dragged down into the blood as if the wire were fingernails refusing to release its' prey.

The blood was warm on her skin as it soaked into her clothes weighing her down. When she cleared the wire, her entire torso and the front of her legs were dripping scarlet while it immediately began drying on her hands, neck, and chin. It looked as if she had drank the blood.

She quickly gained ground during the middle portion as she allowed her legs and speed to propel her forward. The men later remarked she looked like a red blur maneuvering through the air. The air blew past her face cooling her down and drying the sweat and blood against her skin. Then she faced the wall. She threw her head back to see the top but had to look away as the ground moved under her feet.

"Come on, Bitch!" Sobel screamed standing somewhere in a clean, dry uniform. "Move it!"

Griest looked at the men and nodded. They would step into her hands as she lifted them up until they could grab the top and pull themselves over. Bull joined her as they moved quickly and the numbers on their side dwindled. Griest noticed how the larger, heavier men were brought over by Bull saving her from some of the work, but Sobel was smart; no matter what, she would have to vault Bull over by herself then get herself over.

"Alright, Bull, let's go," she uttered between breaths when they were the only ones left. Bull gave a nod as he stepped into her expecting hands. She gritted her teeth as her arms burned; she could feel the debris embedded in the tread of his boots gouging into her palms. Bull grabbed the top and swung over.

And then there was one.

Griest looked to the top as she took a few strides back and moved her rifle so it hung against her back. She took in a few deep breaths then ran at the wall. Her foot connected with the flat wood as she pushed herself upwards with everything she had. It was not enough. Her hands grabbed the top as her fingernails dug into the untreated wood. Her nails lifted from the nail bed as slivers stabbed deeply into her flesh. She groaned in pain as her feet scrabbled against the wall. A few hands grabbed her shoulders but she shook her head so violently her helmet would have fallen off had it not been clasped under her chin.

"No," she barked as they flinched back, "I can do it... alone!" She shouted between grunts of exertion. The men backed off as they glanced at each other. It was Doc, soft-spoken Doc, who broke the wall.

"C'mon, Griest!" He encouraged gently but fiercely as others joined in.

She pulled herself up so her face was over the wall. Her cheeks were red as stray baby hairs stuck to her glistening forehead. The muscles in her arms screamed and shook. She clenched her lip between her teeth when, suddenly, her arms gave out. Her chin smacked against the top of the wall as her teeth sliced through the soft, pink skin severing her lip in half. She felt her nails rip from her fingertips as she caught herself.

"Back!" She ordered as Bull and Guarnere reached for her. They obeyed as the men continued to shout encouragement at her.

"You got this!"

"C'mon, girl!" And, for once, Sobel was silent.

Griest managed to pull herself up and she swung her legs over the wall. Then she jumped to the ground. She rolled on impact to disperse the force when a rock hit her knee. The whole thing took only about a minute, but it felt like hours. She lay on her side for a moment staring at the grey clouds that blotted the sky.

How is it so goddamn hot if there's no sun? She wondered. She smiled as she looked at her limp arms which surrounded her as if she were making a snow angel. Her chin and lip throbbed and her fingers were on fire, but she did it.

She did it.

"Holy shit," Guarnere breathed as he looked down at her, "I didn't see that coming; good job." He pulled her to her feet noting her bloodied fingertips. Her face was no better.

"Thanks," she said with a nod as some of the others clapped her back and nodded. She met Doc's gaze as he grinned in congratulations. She nodded back in gratitude then Sobel broke in.

"Too slow, Private Bitch! You would have been killed by the time you got up there. And you rolled over your rifle, potentially damaging it. Next time, I want you doing it in half the time; your weekend pass is revoked!"

Griest bit back the urge to remind Sobel that the rifles would sometimes fall a couple hundred feet during a jump and they usually worked, so her rolling over it was no big deal. She shook her head as an exhausted anger filled her; she wanted to roll her eyes but there was no way to do that under the heated gaze of the Black Swan. Her chin tickled as blood ran down from her lip, over the dried pig's blood, and dripped onto the mud at a steady interval. She formed a fist at her side to keep herself from wiping her chin, or hitting Sobel in his stark, straight nose.

"Yes, sir." She looked up at him as she breathed deeply and her body swayed like the wind. Her eyelids and limbs were heavy.

"Get your asses to the mess hall," he spat releasing them for lunch as he turned away. She rolled her eyes as Easy marched to the barracks to change into clean uniforms. The tips of Griest's fingers stung while her knee ached making her limp slightly.

"Griest," Winters whispered as he marched beside her. She glanced up at him but continued onward. "Good job."

Winters quickened his pace as he left her. Her pains vanished as she held her head higher and a smile poked at the corner of her lips.

As Sobel ordered, she practiced the wall during breaks and at night. The next time, she could go over it no problem, and without rolling on her rifle. Sobel made a face as he moved on without saying a word at the proud victor. Some of the men crowded her and congratulated her for her improvement, while others just regarded her silently. The barrier was breaking.

Two days filled with pain, sweat, and Currahee passed; some of the men spoke a few words to Griest, not a lot, but it was a welcomed change. Easy was standing at attention as Sobel inspected the barracks with the officers. The air buzzed as bugs danced teasingly before their faces while others bit into any exposed skin. The sun was hot and beamed down on them as if in league with Sobel and determined to make their lives as miserable as possible.

Griest stood in the center of the company as sweat rolled down her neck and back; she was a New Yorker and wasn't used to this type of humid, hot weather. Her knee ached from the other day as she subtly shifted her weight hoping to find a more comfortable position. After the wall, Doc took a look his first patient. He bandaged her bloodied fingers in thick, white gauze. It remained there for half a day before she removed it; the bandages interfered too much for her to get anything done. Her fingers were like sausages while the gauze kept getting caught on everything, so she removed it, much to Doc's disappointment but he wasn't surprised. There was a dark purple-green bruise on the bottom of her chin while a thick scab covered her lower lip. It would often split when she smiled or shouted, as the military way, causing fresh blood to dribble down her chin. Her knee was bruised and slightly swollen. Doc wanted her to be looked at by a real doctor but she refused; she had fought too hard to give up because of a knee. She worked through it.

Everyone held their breath hearing Sobel's dull, scratchy voice through the thin walls of the barracks. During breakfast, the men placed bets on who would have their passes revoked, although who wouldn't get revoked would have been more of a challenge. Most of the men bet Sobel would find something wrong with Griest's bunk. She wasn't offended; if she gambled, she would have bet on herself too. Sobel's voice screeched again as she looked downward closing her eyes.

Chickenshit, she thought summing Sobel up perfectly.

Inside, Winters stood at attention with Nixon beside him as the now Captain Sobel tore through Easy's bunks. He had already dug through and revoked several passes including Tipper's personal letters and Park's can of peaches, "stolen" according to the captain. Sobel dropped the can into Evan's hands before he turned his attention to the bunk farthest from the door.

"This bunk is a mess and not kept up to military standards," Sobel hissed as he threw books and clothes into the air. He flipped the wire bed over as a photograph fell from underneath the pillow. Sobel clutched it in his hands as his face scorned.

"Whose bunk is this?" He growled not looking up.

"Private Griest's," Winters answered knowing Sobel had full knowledge of the bunk's ownership.

"Get her in here now!" Winters obeyed and brought the girl inside. He noticed the slight limp she was trying hide. She stood at attention before Sobel looking upwards to keep herself from examining the mess the captain made. All over the barracks letters, books, papers, and clothes scattered over the floor like fallen leaves. A bra, in particular, lay in the middle of the room for everyone to see along with a pair of female, beige underwear.

"Private Wench, explain this to me," Sobel ordered holding up a pair of her pants. A sewing needle and thread were sticking from the bottom of the leg.

"I was hemming my pants, sir," she answered stiffly.

"These pants belong to the United States Army and not to you; therefore, you have no authority to make these alterations. Explain yourself."

"Sir, the pants the army provides are either too wide at the waist and too short at the legs, or too long in the legs. I need to hem them or I'll trip and endanger myself, the rest of Easy, and make the CO look bad. I took it upon myself to ensure that doesn't happen, sir. Unless you want me tripping all over the base." Her voice was light and sweet but Winters could see the malice behind her eyes like a sharpened knife. He almost grinned. Sobel threw the pants to the ground as his eyes bulged from his sockets; he hated to look bad.

"What about this?" He held the picture for her to see. "This is not stored according to army regulations. Who is this man, Wench?" Griest paled as she stared at the photo. Her chest rose and fell at a faster pace as her small adam's apple bobbed. The photo was of a young man dressed in a British aviator uniform.

"What is a picture of a limey doing under your pillow?" Sobel pushed tightening his grip causing the photo to crinkle in his fingers. "Do you love this FEB, Wench?" FEB stood for filthy, or fucking depending on who you were talking to, English bastard

"Yes, sir."

"Then why don't you fight there? You're a traitorous bitch!"

"He's my brother," Griest hissed as her upper lip formed a sneer for a millisecond before her face returned to flat stone, but fists formed at her side. Sobel froze as his smile vanished.

"Are you of FEB descent?"

"No, sir."

"Does your family hate the US?"

"No, sir!"

"Then why is your brother in a FEB uniform instead of fighting for his own country?"

"My brother joined the British Air Force before the US even entered the war, sir," she explained. Her eyes burned as her voice wavered; Winters thought she was about to cry.

"You are a pathetic soldier, Private Bitch, the worst I have ever seen. I should ask your red coat-turned brother what he thinks. Even he would be ashamed of you!"

"Yes, sir," she muttered back quietly.

"You think I won't do it? I will!" Sobel screamed intent on destroying her right there. Winters' fingers twitched as he watched the exchange fighting back a scowl, but Sobel wasn't finished, "Where is your FEB brother stationed? I am going to arrange a meeting and tell him what a worthless soldier you are! Where is he stationed?" Griest grinned grimly as if knowing some secret joke. Then she glanced up at Sobel with iron eyes as her grin vanished.

"Hell," she spat. Winters then realized she wasn't about to explode in tears, but in anger. She stood tall as her tongue ran over her scab. The room grew cold as she emanated a white, cold fury. Winters took a tiny step back along with Nixon.

"Excuse me, Private Bitch? Where is your brother stationed? Do not give me lip or I will make your time here much worse," he threatened standing over her, but, to Winters, she looked bigger.

"My brother," she hissed in a sudden cold indifference, "is dead. He was shot down by the Germans a year and a half ago, sir."

"Get all your gear on; you're running Currahee. I will be watching," Sobel ordered as he walked away.

"Sir!" Griest called jumping forward as her eyebrows rose up and her eyes filled with fear. Her shoulders rounded as she looked down reminding Winters of a child. She reached a hand out. "My photo, sir."

"You have twenty minutes," Sobel growled as he left with the picture in his hand. Griest's face clouded in anger as she pulled her gear on whispering obscenities, which the officers ignored. They followed Sobel outside where the men stood at attention. Their faces were hazed in confusion as they glanced at the barracks. They were dismissed for lunch as Sobel promoted Winters clipping a golden bar onto his left collar. As a reward, he was assigned to the mess hall where he was to prepare spaghetti for tomorrow's dinner. Sobel dropped the photo in the mud before walking away. Winters picked it up and wiped it clean. He looked up as Griest exited the barracks and began Currahee. He stood up and tucked the picture into his breast pocket for a later time.

Griest's heavy boots pounded against the ground as she focused on her anger. Her legs shook under the extra weight while her knee howled; she could feel it double in size. However, her anger and sorrow invaded her mind as it pushed her pain and discomforts away.

She thought of the last time she saw her brother. It had been the last time he was home before he left for England. He stood tall with pride as his eyes shone and hands shook with worry. He bid Griest and their mother goodbye, kissed their cheeks, and promised to give the Germans hell. He winked at Griest as he shut the door. He was trying so hard to hide his pale face, his wavering voice, and the tears he refused to let fall, but the Griest women were like bloodhounds with hidden emotions. They both pretended not to notice for his sake and for their own.

Then she thought of the letter they received in the mail several years later. He fulfilled his earlier promise to write often but the women knew this letter was different the moment the mail boy pressed the paper facedown into their hands. The paper was too white and lacked the soot and smudged fingerprints. It was crisp and smelled of an office. The words told of his great sacrifice, his honour, commitment, and his heroism but Griest only remembered two things: her brother was dead and the Germans killed him. She enlisted the next day.

"Hey, Griest, wait up there!" Guarnere's voice echoed as she snapped out of her memories and returned to Currahee.

"You think the Germans are chasing you or something?" Skip asked as he, Guarnere, Luz, Lipton, and Doc joined her. They were dressed in their gear and had their rifles in their hands.

"Sobel sent you?" She asked ignoring Skip's question; she'd run towards the Germans and gut every one of them. Skip shook his head as they fell into unison as naturally as breathing.

"If my sister went off alone with the same look you had, there'd be hell to pay when she returned," Skip huffed as Griest regarded the men. There was nothing to say so she just smiled at them.

"Hey, what's your first name?" Lipton asked two minutes later.

She laughed and gave him the same answer she gave everyone as she gave Doc a look, "Sorry, but I won't respond to it anyways."

"Well, now we'll just have to find out won't we, chicky?" Luz arched an eyebrow causing her to shake her head.

"Did you just call her Chucky?" Skip asked.

"I like it," Guarnere mused looking at Griest. "Chucky Griest, unless you wanna tell us your real name."

"Chucky works," she chuckled as the men screamed her new name until it echoed off the trees as if the forest were declaring it.

"Hey, Luz," she breathed on the final mile. They were all dripping with sweat as their gear soaked it up weighing them down further. Their stomachs growled as they thought of the meal they missed. Luz looked at her but he was too tired to say anything else.

"About the other day, when I told you off, I'm sorry it was uncalled for."

Luz laughed, "You were right, Chucky, all if forgiven and forgotten! Now, race you to the bottom!"

Winters was waiting by the barracks when Doc darted into the camp running with the elegance and grace of a strong, young deer. Griest came next and was quickly followed by Luz, Lipton, and Guarnere. They all collapsed to their knees panting hard but they were smiling and laughing. Luz said something smart so Griest reached over and smacked his helmet mockingly. Winters bit back a smile as he approached them.

"Lieutenant Winters, sir," Lipton said as they all jumped to their feet and saluted him.

"At ease, did you enjoy your run?" They nodded. "There might be some food left in the mess; get changed then grab some before you rejoin Easy. Private Griest, may I have a moment?" He requested in that soft voice of his that bursted with authority and dignity. It made men, and women, respect him and want to die for him. Easy would follow him anywhere. The men ran into the barracks to change as they glanced at their newly christened Chucky.

"Follow me," Winters said as he walked away from the barracks to the outskirts of the camp. They walked in silence for several minutes before Winters pulled a photo from his breast pocket.

It was the standard size with dirt and time fraying the edges. It was a black-and-white picture of a young man in his early twenties. The man stood tall as his eyes shone like the sun. He wore a blue coloured jacket over a light, collared shirt, and a black tie. His aviator wings shone in the light as his fighter plane, a Supermarine Spitfire, stood strongly behind him like a pillar. The man had light coloured hair peeking out from under his blue beret. His eyes were a medium-light colour while his strong nose, sharp jawline, and kind smile made his features memorable. On the back of the photo was a handwritten message. It read:

Hey, sis. Sorry it's been awhile between letters but we've been busy. Our CO finally gave us a break. Those Germans are tough, but we're even tougher. You like the photo? It was the only one I could get without the guys doing things no lady- my sister of all people- should see. How is Mom? Send her my love and tell her I miss her. How's Uncle Ben? Did he get a better doctor or is he stuck with Dr. Mulder? How are you doing? I'm sorry James won't let you play on the hockey team; I know you're the best goalie in all of NY, let alone Queens. I won't be able to write for a while but don't worry, your big brother is good at this. I love you so much and miss you. I just wish Hitler would do us all a favour and jump off a fucking cliff. Sorry, don't tell Mom I said that or she'll worry. I'm fine. I'll see you soon, Sis, I promise.

All my love,

Chris Griest

Chris' letters were scrabbled together as if written by a young, exhausted soldier. The word 'fucking' was scratched out as if it were written on impulse and without thought. It was dated almost two years ago, a few months before his death. Winters wondered if the mission he hinted at was the cause of his death.

Winters held onto the photo for a moment longer; he had felt Chris' strength and brotherly love for his sister in his words. Winters was an only child, he didn't know what it was like to have a sibling, but through this letter, he now had an idea. It was something raw and beautiful amidst the war and chaos, and he didn't want to part with it. He could only imagine what Griest must have felt when Sobel confiscated it. He forced himself to offer back the photo.

"Your brother seemed like a good man, I'm sorry for your loss," he consoled. Griest stared at the photo before she grasped it with shaking hands. Her fingernail-less fingers brushed against Winters' palm as she retracted her hand. She was cold.

"Chris," she whispered nodding her head as she licked her lips. The scab had torn in half during Currahee making her taste the salty copper as the scent filled her nose. She continued as she stroked his face gently, "He was the best man I know; he could have taken a job at the Factory only a few blocks away from our house but he went to England because he said it was the right thing."

"Is he what made your join the army?" He asked noting this was the most she had ever shared about herself. Hell, this was the most he heard her speak. She nodded. "How did they even accept your enlistment?"

"My uncle fought in the Great War and became a major. He got a hold of some of his old contacts who still worked in the army, and they got me in but it took a while," she paused as she looked up. Her eyes grew hard as her posture strengthened. "I proved myself and made it every step myself, he just opened the door for me."

"Must be hard for your parents," Winters remarked after assuring her he never doubted her abilities, regardless of her unconventional entry. Griest looked back at the photo with a shrug as if pushing away unpleasant memories.

In reality her mother, Betty Griest, was pretty understanding. The death of her only son shattered her, leaving only a small percentage of herself left. That part existed strictly for her daughter, her last remaining child. She wanted her daughter to stay safe at home far away from the life that stole her eldest; but, she knew her spirit ran through Griest and nothing would hold her back. She encouraged and supported Griest's desire for justice and need for action. It was Betty who convinced her brother to help his niece achieve that goal. Griest knew Betty prayed to a god she no longer believed in to keep her daughter safe. It was the first thing she did when she awoke and the last thing when she retired.

"My mom's the strongest person I know," she offered awkwardly, "she doesn't like it but she supports me."

"Well, I am sorry for your loss," Winters repeated as Griest's eyes grew heavy and her eyebrows fell.

"This is war, sir, everyone loses something." She looked at the photo as she shook the thoughts away. "Thank you for saving my photo, sir, but won't you get in trouble from Sobel?"

Winters shrugged, "Just don't let him find it; I hear the underwear drawer is a good hiding place." Nixon held a bottle of Vat 69 in his- and sometimes Winters'- underwear drawer.

Griest laughed a beautiful laugh that reminded him of bells and lulling waterfalls, of songbirds and the patter of rain. "I'm a girl, Lieutenant Winters, that is the first place people look."

She saluted him as they slowly departed. Griest slid the photo into her inside pocket tenderly as if handling a delicate flower or an unstable explosive. Winters called out to her one last time as he pulled a green apple from his pocket. He tossed it to her as she caught it in her hands.

"You should get changed and find the company, Private," he advised as a grin crossed her face. Luz was right, she had a stunning smile, just like her brother.

Yes, sir, thank you, sir." She saluted him one last time before she ran to the barracks. She expected her belongings to be thrown across the room and her bunk to be overturned with its feet jutting towards the ceiling, the way Hurricane Sobel left it. Instead, her bed was right side up and neatly made, her clothes were folded carefully in her drawers, even her bra and underwear, which the men treated like poison, and the papers were cleaned. She smiled as she grabbed her uniform and quickly changed. The air smelled of cigar smoke and mint toothpaste.

The next night was a special one; although Sobel had revoked their passes as punishment for the barracks, they had lecture classes all afternoon instead of the dreaded PT, thanks to Mother Nature, and they were given spaghetti instead of the regular slop. The mood was light as Easy laughed and teased another.

Griest was sitting with Doc in the middle of the hall as they talked quietly and shoved food into their mouths. It definitely wasn't Momma's cooking but it was still amazing. Griest opened her mouth to shovel more noodles into her face when Luz, Lipton, Guarnere, Skip, and Penkala approached them. The area around them seemed to grow quiet as everyone watched them curiously, knowing either a new bond, a new brotherhood would be formed, or it would be destroyed severing any chance of future relations. Griest slowly lowered her fork as she watched them and, for once, she let them have the first word.

"Mind if we join ya?" Luz asked. "I promise we won't hit on ya, or try anything; at least, Lip does. I don't think the rest of us would be able to keep that promise, but it'd be in jest, mostly." Griest glanced at Doc as the medic nodded slightly and the faintest trace of a smile crossed his lips.

"As long as there's some," she began as a smile covered her face, "girls like a bit of flattery but as long as it's in jest, mostly." She kicked the opposite bench out from under the table offering them all a seat. Her smile turned into a mischievous grin, a look they would all come to associate with her. They guys sat down as conversation continued for everyone in the mess hall.

"Chucky, what does your dad say about your enlistment as a paratrooper?" Lipton asked the conversation turned to their families and homes. Griest had remained quiet throughout the conversation wearing a thin scowl.

She rolled her eyes and released a bitter snort, "He doesn't know but if you ever find him, send him my way so I can shove my bayonet up his ass."

"Whoa, daddy issues," Skip called between mouthfuls. They never expected those words to leave her mouth but they would later learn she cursed just as much as they did. It was a welcomed change from the other women they knew; it was another aspect that made her Easy's girl.

"My dad married my mom but left her after she got pregnant with me. He left her with a four year old boy, an injured army vet, and a baby on the way with only twenty dollars to her name. He ditched us so he has no say in my life." The boys had learned her uncle had been hit by artillery near the end of the first war and had to have both his legs amputated. Mrs. Griest managed to help her brother and be a single mom to two children on a meager teacher's aide salary, a job she had to get after her husband's abrupt disappearance.

"Well, that just means we have our own gorgeous girl who makes everyone jealous of Easy," Luz responded with a wink. Griest gave him a sideways look but a smile peeked at the corner of her lips as her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. Now that they talked with her, she smiled all the time.

"Ass kisser," Guarnere hissed.

"I'd kiss her ass any day," Penkala added as they all laughed shouting over one another.

"Orders changed! Get up!" Sobel shouted as he burst into the mess hall with the ever obedient Sergeant Evans trailing behind him. Everyone dropped their forks and jumped to attention. "Lectures are cancelled; Easy is running up Currahee! Move! Move!" Suddenly the spaghetti didn't taste so good and sat heavily in their stomachs.

They all ran up Currahee as their mouths tasted of puke and stomach acid. A lot of the men threw up as Sobel screamed in their faces. Griest was in the middle with Guarnere beside her. The man was struggling as his damp face turned pale. He began to slow down.

"C'mon, Bill, stick with me!" She shouted ignoring the stench that wafted through the air and her own nausea. "Come on, you can't let a girl beat you, right? You have a dollar saying you can do it but I can't, so prove it! You too, Skip! We fall upon the risers, we fall upon the grass..."

It was exactly what the company needed to hear and they completed the run singing with hoarse throats. Afterwards, Griest went to the latrine and threw up the contents of her stomach, but she wasn't the only one. There was a lineup.

A few weeks and another camp later, Easy completed several jumps and earned their silver jump wings. It was a moment of triumph and pride as they were finally awarded for their perseverance, tenacity, and hard work. They were still standing when so many others had given up. That night they were having a party to celebrate. They were in the barracks changing and laughing in preparation; the air was light and joyful. The men had their backs to Griest and she had their backs to them, respecting another's privacy, all except Culil.

The man watched as she buttoned the beige dress shirt over her soft skin and slipped into the darker brown trousers. Her jacket, with its brand new, gleaming wings and side cap, complete with the paratrooper patch, lay on her bed carefully. She smoothed the shirt before tying on the sand coloured tie. Some of the officers wanted her to wear a skirt, but they didn't have any skirts available, so she was given pants. She preferred the pants over the skirt. The uniform fit her surprisingly well considering it was made for a tiny male.

"Hey, Chucky," Culil called with a gruff wanting in his voice. The others paused and watched him carefully but Griest continued on as if nothing happened. "We don't need to be there for another thirty minutes. I'm sure we could find something to do to pass the time."

She sighed in annoyance as she faced him with tense shoulders. Everyone froze. A celebration such as this permitted Griest to wear makeup and she looked amazing. She was always a looker but her makeup emphasized her cheekbones and jaw while softening her features and smoothing her face. Her lips were a dark, sultry red while the black mascara and eyeliner made her eyes pop even more. Her hair was pinned back in her usual braided bun but the recent shower made her hair appear lighter and shine like fire. She smelled of vanilla, cinnamon, and gunpowder.

"Back off, Culil," she said in a calm voice but her eyes flashed dangerously. "I am not and will never be interested. I have put up with your looks, taunts, gestures, and all your other shit, but that ends now. You get it?" She turned her back to face her uniform and continued to straighten her tie.

"Excuse me?" Culil grabbed her wrist jerking her back to face him as her shoulder snapped. Culil reeked of alcohol causing her throat to burn as she prayed her eyes wouldn't water; she was not dealing with raccoon eyes today of all days. She gritted her teeth as his fingers cut into her flesh and the skin turned a mottled green.

"You are nothing but an experiment, a bitch wearing pants and playing at soldier! You'll do what I want you to because I'm a real paratrooper!" He shouted.

"Culil, leave her alone," Luz growled as he and some others crept closer. "Let her go, you're drunk."

"And there's something I always do when I'm drunk," he grumbled with a smile.

"Don't do it," Griest warned without a trace of fear. She stood tall with her shoulders back as she breathed deeply. Culil grinned and shot his hand forward fondling her breast. The men jumped forward but Griest was quicker. She stepped up and kneed him forcefully between the legs. Culil's face turned red as his eyes bulged and he retracted his hand.

"You bitch!" He screamed and reached for his rifle.

"No," Griest hissed as she unsheathed her knife and placed it at his throat. Doc pulled Culil's rifle away as he, Luz, Lipton, Skip, Penkala, Bull, and Guarnere stepped closer. The air grew quiet and tense as everyone froze waiting for Griest to make the next move.

"Let me make this crystal clear, Dylan, if you ever try to touch me again I will send you to the med station and you will never jump again, got it? You will not talk, look, or even breathe at me." She glared at him before pushing him away but she didn't sheath her knife.

"I'll tell Sobel," Culil hissed, "he'll have you arrested and then your brother will never be avenged. He'll just be another pile of bones!" Griest set her jaw forward but, otherwise, she remained unfazed, however, she saw red.

"Who will back up your story?" Bull asked sticking a cigar between his teeth. Bull's voice pulled her out of her rage as she looked at him.

"What?" Culil growled as if he forgot the rest of Easy were there.

"Who will back up your story?" Bull repeated. "Cause I didn't see anything."

"Yeah," Guarnere spoke up, "all I saw was you grabbin' Chucky then trippin' and cannin' yourself. Luz, you see anything different?"

"Nope, that pretty much sums up what I saw. These floorboards can be tricky."

"Yepp," Skip agreed. Griest smiled and nodded her thanks subtly to the men.

"Sergeant, you saw what happened!" Culil turned to Lipton frantically.

"I saw you attack Private Griest then threaten her." Lip crossed his arms as the barracks grew quiet. The chips and plays were drawn.

"You listen to what Chucky says," Guarnere growled, "you don't look or talk to her. If you do, you deal with us."

"No," Griest shook her head, "first he deals with me. You guys can have what's left." Guarnere nodded in agreement as they looked back to Culil.

"Get outta here," Bull hissed. The muscular, blonde man obeyed as everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They never had to fulfill those threats; after everything he went through and finally earning his jump wings, he left the Airborne the next day. Griest's shoulders relaxed as she sheathed her knife and brushed the wrinkles out of her trousers.

"Thanks, guys," she called as she pulled the jacket over her shoulders and buttoned it carefully with pride.

"Jeez, Chucky, why didn't ya say that to him earlier?" Guarnere huffed crossing his arms.

"I had to know you guys would have my back instead of his," she answered with a shrug as she pulled her side cap on. She gave him a look as a sly smile formed on her lips. "But I thought you didn't want me here, that you didn't trust me."

"We didn't know you well enough to trust you, but now we do," he answered after everyone stopped oohing and chuckling. "You know about the bet?"

"Everyone always has a bet," she answered with an unconcerned shrug. "But I get some of the beers once you win with that money." She pointed a finger at Bull, Luz, and Lipton who laughed and nodded.

"I don't mean anything by it," Guarnere added as they exited the barracks and made their way to the hall. They found themselves walking side by side. "I didn't think women had a place in combat because you remind me of my friend's kid sister. I wouldn't let her go kill Krauts and risk her neck."

"And now?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, now you're my kid sister and ain't nobody telling you where to go and how to live your life. So, I gotta keep an eye on you and you'll keep your eyes on us, right?"

She nodded as she looked at the men. It had been long and difficult but they had come to accept her, and she had come to accept them. Her brother was dead; his remains were scattered all over Europe along with his plane. She couldn't help him, but she had gained more brothers and this time, she'd watch and protect them, and not just from Krauts. She would guard them from their fears and console them from their nightmares. She would protect them from themselves and the officers who didn't know any better; she would keep them from the dark.

The thought stayed with her throughout the night. She drank and laughed but she saw the men differently. They shared a bond that would only grow stronger as their trials, pains, and wars, both internal and external, forged them closer.

"Currahee!" Colonel Sink shouted raising his beer into the air. Easy chanted it back as they thrusted their drinks up. Griest glanced at them all as Luz bumped into her imitating Sobel perfectly. She laughed and followed him to the bar where the guys had gathered. Her boys. The thought made a fire ignite in her chest.

Her brothers.

"I think the battles we won were individual. And the fact that at each event we succeeded in, we were winning hearts and minds as we went. But that was more important to us, becoming teammates with our Ranger buddies..." First Lieutenant Shaye Haver

Author's note: So this is the first chapter; originally, I was going to have Part 1 as one chapter, but it got too long, so I split it up. I will try to have the next chapter uploaded within a week. Please review and comment; I take criticism of all kinds. Thank you guys so much for reading, and let me know what you guys think. Thanks!