Okay, what?! I haven't updated since Thanksgiving?! I'm so sorry readers!

George on My Mind

"Ho-lee shit!" Muck cried, struggling to contain he laughter. Perconte held his stomach and Luz held his round head high. "Damn that was good. Your best one yet, if I do say so, Luz!"

"Thank you, thank you very much, gentlemen!" Luz chirrped in an exaggerated English accent, capturing glances from the locals.

LaVern sat under a tree, boots resting on bricks lining the street. She held her silver bugle in her hand, Burl piling moist dirt before him. She cocked a curious eyebrow at the men's laughter. It appeared to be an inside joke, but she was a nosy hen and just had to know.

"Burl, stay there." She motioned him to stay as she stood. Vern brushed off her trousers before trotting to the cackling roosters. Burl was an unruly child and simply trailed directly behind her.

She smiled wildly, trying to keep her head straight, "What's all the hubbub, boys?"

It was one of those moments when the person struggling to tell the story was funnier than the story itself.

Muck leaned heavily on Perco, who was gasping for breath in-between laughs, "L-Luz, goosed that schmuck… so damn good!"

"What schmuck? Who's the schmuck?" LaVern couldn't hold a straight face, just watching them buckle with laughter.

"Oh that dog just ain't gonna hunt!" Luz said with a flush face. This only confused Vern more. She held a hand on her hip, not giving up on getting the truth out. The men laughed even harder once George had crooned that phrase.

"What is so funny?" She raised her voice.

"Yeah mates, what's the joke here?" Burl's small, British accent disturbed the laughter.

LaVern spun on her heel, narrowed eyes ready to stare Burl down, "I told you to stay."

"I've been told to do a lot of things. Doesn't mean I'll do them."

Luz stepped forward, his face stick straight. "You'll listen to a lady when she give you an order, boy." George hovered over him, eyes warning, "Now either go home, or go sit where Miss Claiborne told you to. Do you understand?"

LaVern rolled her shoulders back, as startled by Luz's seriousness as Burl was. The small boy's eyes grew misty, and before Luz could see his lower lip quiver, Burl bolted down the street with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Muck and Perconte still giggled, barely paying attention to the action that had just taken place. Luz watched Burl run over the cobblestone, and a look of satisfaction was vaguely on his face. "He's an unruly and obnoxious child, isn't he?"

LaVern took a step back, "That may be true, but you didn't need to be so hard on him, Georgie."

He looked over to her, "Where I come from, you do as you're told."

"Then why are you such a joker?" Vern smirked, flirting unintentionally.

He twirled his hand on his wrist and bit back a smile, "Because here, if you're bad, the worst thing they can do is send you home. Now, can you tell me what's so bad about that?"

"You've got a point, Georgie," LaVern winked at him quickly.

"Well, well," Muck smirked. "Look at the time. I've got to go pick of my laundry."

Perconte swayed from one foot to the other, "And I promised Bull a game of basketball. I'll see you around later, Luz. And hopefully you too, miss."

Frank's thick black eyebrow wiggled with a wink at her, and she swore she saw steam spew out of George's ears. "Lay off, damnit." Vern thought she heard Luz spit in Franks ear as he sauntered past them. She swallowed down a chuckle.

Luz turned back to her, his puppet-like face red with flush.

"So, who did you goose today? I am so confused between you boys…"

George nodded, "Oh, I convinced Sobel to cut a fucking fence with cows on the other side."

"How the hell did you manage that?" Vern laughed lightly, showing interest as she fiddled with the spit valve on her bugle.

"My devilish good looks," Luz teased, caressing his chin with his hands.

She rolled her eyes, "No really, how?"

"Two words: Major- Horton."

She shifted her weight onto her left leg, "I'm still confused."

Luz swung his arm through hers, "Wanna go pass some time, lovely lady?"

LaVern pushed her short hair behind her ear, "Only if you actually explain this entire thing to me…"

B.o.B.

"Fuck, shit. Fuck, shit," Luz paced the barn floor that was serving as a cafeteria, rain falling heavily behind his silhouette. The NCO's sat around a wobbly table, discussing something seemingly important. "I really fucked up this time, Vern."

She still held her bugle at her side- it was the only reason she was even there. "The NCO's will figure it all out, Georgie. It's fine."

He looked up at her, "You lying sack of shit."

"Hey!" She gasped, holding a finger up to his nose. "George Luz, you never talk to me like that again!"

Luz's round face cracked in half and he laughed his casual smile, "I was just testing you. You know, seeing if you are a good moral booster like you're supposed to be."

She shrugged, "I think I don't even need to be here. You make the guys laugh more than I do."

"That's because they've known me for two years. We've all slept in the same damn bed practically for two years, dealt with Sobel for two years, ran up that damn mountain for two years. You've been with them for how long? Couple months? You're just newlyweds, Vern. Once these boys see blood, I'd bet the shittiest race horse that you'll be their shining angel." George Luz was rarely serious, but when he was, you felt every word that man was saying.

She smiled humbly, hoping he was right. Back in Chicago every man in the band she played with wanted a slice of the LaVern Claiborne. Here she was a backdrop and just the once who played the dreaded reveille in the morning light.

"Let's have a listen," George slid his Lucky Strike behind his ear and strolled over to watch the NCO's make decisions.

Vern leaned heavily against a wooden beam, swinging her toe into the musty dirt. Guarnere gave them all a lasting glance and began scribbling his vow vocally, "I hereby… no longer… wish to serve… as a noncommissioned officer in Easy Company."

They all scratched their signatures at the bottom of the torn sheet. Carwood Lipton gathered the papers into the center of the worn table, a pained expression lining his pale face. Vern could feel the tension in the cool air, and she fiddled with the spit valve once again.

May 31st, 1944- Upottery, England

Lavern felt lost, insecure and isolated. Not because she was a woman, that factor barely crossed her mind, but that she didn't have a band to play with her. The squeal of a bugle is desolate without the thrum of the tom-toms, or the mellow sizzle of a saxophone. As she held her instrument, she felt lost.

She beat the heels of her boots against the crate beneath her, holding the cold metal to her lips. Bored, Vern hummed a snappy swing tune into her mouth piece. Men strolled by, not even paying attention to the short scrap of a woman that looked more like a young boy with her hair pulled back. But two men, chatting excitedly amongst themselves paused in front of her.

The one with a rounder face than Luz and folded over ears bent back his head as if to get a better look at her. "Ey, aren't you the bugler girl that I keep hearing about?"

She shrugged, keeping a straight face, "I don't know, am I?" She lowered her bugle to her lap and properly crossed her legs.

The second man stepped forward offering his hand, "Of course it's her, Hoobs, jeezus. 'Name's Petty, Cleveland- pleasure to meet you finally."

"LaVern," she returned the handshake, bending the cupid's bow in her lips.

The first man introduced himself as well, "I'm Donald Hoobler. Sorry for being so dense."

"It's quite alright. It's a pleasure to meet you, Don and Cleveland."

Hoobler regained his confident posture, "So, you ready for the big jump tonight, Bugling Betty?"

Vern raised an eyebrow, "Betty?"

"Eh, two B's. Sounded good."

She shrugged, "I guess I'm ready, even though I don't know what the hell is going on. Nobody can be bothered to tell the bugler what's happening. Jesus, you might as well leave me behind!"

"Nonsense, we'll get you all your gear, girl," Petty kindly offered as Hoobler gently helped her off of the crates.

"Meehan, Winters and Nixon will get you caught up. We have a briefing in 10 minutes exactly."Hoobler reassured her, winding through the rows upon rows of barracks.

She trailed behind the two men, holding her brass close to her beating heart. The English overcast weather drizzled through her Garrison cap that covered a tight knot atop her head.

-o-o-

Lieutenant Meehan paced fiercely before prints of graphs, maps of French Towns and arrows pointing to causeways. LaVern tried desperately to concentrate on the words he spewed, but first she pondered how within two months she was in England, surrounded by brave men, given the grand opportunity to play for them. Any other girl might have turned and ran, but with talent comes guts, and that was exactly what she needed.

"-thus linking Omaha and Utah into one continuous beachhead. Each trooper will learn this operation by heart and will know his and every other outfit's mission to the detail!"

LaVern leaned over to Smokey's ear, "What was like I didn't hear."

Gordon elbowed her, "Then you're fucked…"

Vern rolled her eyes and spun her finger in the indentation of her mouthpiece. "Ask me if I give two fucks…" Luz's way of looking at this whole damn thing was not a good influence.

"Do you give a fuck, Vern?" Smokey played along, leaning and whispering.

"PRIVATE GORDON AND CLAIBORNE! DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING YOU WISH TO TELL THE REGIMENT?!" Meehan bellowed down at them from the small stage.

LaVern's face burned the darkest shade of red imaginable.

"NO, SIR!" Her and Smokey screamed in return.

Meehan shot them another glare before turning his attention to Dukeman's questions.

She dared whisper to Smokey again, "Yea, I do got something to say. 'Do I look like a give a fuck?'"

Smokey crossed his finger over his lips laced with Lucky Strike smoke, "Shhh, you'll get your ass chewed again."

She slumped forward and rest her elbows on her knees. Vern held her uninterested face and vaguely listened in.

"And we will drop behind this Atlantic wall five hours before the 4th Infantry lands at Utah." Meehan slapped the map of Normandy's beaches and continued to speak to the smoke lingering tent, "Between our assembly area and the battalion's objective is a German garrison. Right here in this area is Sainte- Marie- du- Mont. Easy Company will destroy that garrison."

-o-o-

"Three day supply of K-rations, chocolate bars, Charms candy, powdered coffee, sugar, matches, compass, bayonet, entrenching tool, ammunition, gas mask, musette bag with ammo, my weapon, my .45, canteen, two cartons of smokes, Hawkins mine, two grenades, smoke grenade, Gammon grenade, TNT, THIS BULLSHIT, and a pair of nasty skivvies!" Joe Toye bitterly slapped his gloves against the pavement of the air field.

"What's your point?" Frank Perconte's balance struggled as he stood.

LaVern was in a fluster to find her jump gear, and especially George Luz. She had grown the closest with him, and Vern hoped he would be able to help her get her shit together.

"I should have listened in briefing. Stupid, stupid, stupid." Vern mumbled angrily to herself, "I should have listened."

She grew even more worried once she saw almost everybody had their gear on but her. She was still in her plain uniform, fingering the velvet ribbon hanging from her bugle. Vern looked lost and distressed, and even more terrified to ask the angry, raspy voiced man where George was.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me where Luz is?"

He didn't even bother to look up, despite her feminine voice, "He's over that-a-way." Toye pointed vaguely with his left pointer finger.

With very little direction, Vern stepped over the rows of laid out gear. Her heart was thumping nervously in her chest, searching almost desperately for the short puppet-like man.

Failing to watch where she was going, Vern knocked into Lipton who was giving orders to the men. "Don't let your families miss out on 40,000 dollars, boys!"

The sharp bell of her bugle clashed into Carwood's elbow.

"Shit!" She spun to instantly check her instrument. The bell had a crisp bend in the edge. Her heart sank.

"Damn, I'm sorry, miss. I didn't see you there…"

Vern shook her head, trying not to show her sorrow for the wound to her treasure, "It's my fault. I'm waltzing around like a chicken with it's head cut off."

"Where's your gear, trooper? We're jumping nearly momentarily-"

"Hey, do you know anything about Bill's brother, Lip?" a curly haired man stepped into the picture interrupting the awkward conversation.

"I'm sorry, can you point me in the direction of George Luz's whereabouts?" Vern asked nervously, feeling both of the taller men's eyes on her.

They both pointed in the same unhelpful way that Toye did, and she struggled to keep a sigh down. Instead she nodded in thanks and walked off with a purpose.

"Is that the bugler?" She heard Johnny Martin ask, clearly both still watching her.

Lipton replied, "Yeah. I sure hope she survives the jump. Poor thing."

LaVern's blood boiled, hating the sound of being pitied, even if it was a distance away.

"Does anybody know how the hell this thing works?" Vern's ears perked up once she heard Luz's distinct voice. She shuffled forward, seeing him hold an unnamed object in his fingers as if it possessed a disease.

"Jesus Christ, am I glad to see you, Georgie."

Luz took a step forward, "Shit, where's your gear? Oh, and nice going today at briefing. Real good job at keeping that big mouth of yours shut."

"What did I tell you?"

"Hey, I gotta give you some shit. I can't always treat you like an angel or else you'll forget about me!"

Vern snorted, "Likely story, Luz. Oh, and nobody has even bothered to give me any gear!"

The massive Bull Randleman stepped forward and plucked the fat cigar from his lips, "This ain't Chicago, girl. Ya gotta pick up the gear yourself."

She had never been more humiliated in her life. If she had a tail, it would be in between her legs and pushing her towards the hills.

"Oh…" she let out, face flushed and hair a mess.

"Colonel Sink," a short, pink-eared man shoved a tri-folded letter in Bill's face. He licked the ice cream from the corner of his thin lips before dashing his eyes through the dry literature.

Luz jumped at the chance and dramatically recited, "Soldiers of the Regiment! Toniiight! Is the niiight! Of nights… Today as you read this, you're in route to the great adventure you have trained for over two years…"

"So that's why they gave us ice cream," Bill mumbled, spooning the last amount of soupy slop into his mouth.

"Damn, this is happening," Malarkey spluttered out loud.

"Yea, it is and I'm not ready!"

Luz clapped to her side, "Georgie will escort you to get your gear, alright?"

Vern blew the scraggly hair out of her face, "Alright."

Once again Luz swung his arm through hers and leaded her to get the jumping gear. Before they could even reach the sizing tent, Meehan's familiar barking voice called for them.

"EASY COMPANY, LISTEN UP!" Lieutenant Meehan was standing on the hood of a jeep, his face slathered in camouflage paint. I looked over at Luz, whose face was equally dark. Vern thought he was just about to give the men a powerful speech before the actual invasion.

"The Channel coast is socked in with rain and fog. No jump tonight!"

One trooper groaned in pure disappointment while the rest of the men looked down at the concrete beneath their booted feet. "The invasion has been postponed- we're on a 24 stand-down."

I'll be updating this story regularly now! Do you like Vern being paired with Luz? If you do, let me know and if you don't, let me know who you would like more!

Thanks for reading! It means the world!