Authors note: Hello everybody

Authors note: Hello everybody. Sorry once again for the wait. I've been busy lately with school. Also shoot me a message on your thoughts on the men, Fey, or the story in general. Thank you!

P.s. Go see Leatherheads. It's hilarious. And I mean seriously GEORGE CLOONEY! Do you even need a reason?

"I am really getting sick of telling this. I hope who ever I tell this one to next can sping a good yarn, cause I never eant to say it again." I grumbled picking my way through the dense brush after the medic. Eugene gave me a reassuring look and waiting for me to start.

I took a breath and went over the three points in my head. "My name is Fey Russo. I'm from New York, and I'm nineteen years old. I was born in 1989, if you do the math, the year is 2008."

Eugene's eyebrows arched. "That’s impossible!"

"What's that Doc?" A soldier before us on the line called.

"Nothing! Nothing…"

I gave him a meaningful look. "I'd be best not to talk so loud to me until were alone. They can't see me. It's just you and Buck so far."

"What the hell is goin' on…" He muttered.

I grinned at him. "My thoughts exactly."

Afternoon turned to night and the line of Soldiers continued onward. The temperature dropped and rain began to poor down from the heavens, yet we continued. I looked to the forest on our left then at lake to my right. On both shores small fires continued to burn, giving off heat to those who pass.

I slumped forward in defeat, my feet ached, my legs were weighted with lead, and I was really regretting swiping those cans. Eugene trudged on ahead of me looking slightly tired but still rearing and ready to good.

We were in the forest once more and had been on the march for the past two hours. I moaned as I took another step, 15 miles… at five the wounded were more chipper then I was. By eight I was ready to lie down and never move again. At ten I was contemplating Sepuku. I can't conceive how I made it to 15. But when Eugene looked back over his shoulder to check that was still there and gave me a smile I knew my suffering was over.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

George Luz stood watch in the early morning sunlight and took in his surroundings. France. 'He thought' would be nice if it weren’t for the war. A tall pine forest stretched to his left and a green tinted lake to his right. Its shores were studded with scraps of metal, even a whole fuselage of a B-21, and yet… the lake was glassy smooth reflecting the men and the tops of the trees.

Lieutenant Compton's reflection appeared in the water as he stood gazing over the lake. Another soldier, who was about as tall as Compton's shoulder, came to stand by him. The soldier's lips moved and Buck gave the slightest nod.

Luz's eyebrows shot together as he gazed on the pairs reflections. Something's not right… Luz frowned unable to identify the soldier by his reflection. He looked up from the water and at the two to only find one. Buck turned looking over at his men and called to Joe Toye. George looked around for the missing soldier but saw only the men he knew. He frowned, glancing back at the lake. The small soldier was once again at Compton's side, he pulled off his helmet and short brunette locks fell and brushed his? shoulders.

Luz looked back at the group then at the reflection. The girl wasn’t there.

The words of a blond recruiting officer echoed through his head.

"Some say there's a ghost that hangs around the 101st. A girl who lost her brother to the paratroopers. She was said to have infiltrated the troops to have her revenge but as training went on she began to love the men, thinking of them as 100 odd replacements for her brother, revenge was put off by the urge to protect.

But then her company was sent to Africa. They say she was killed not long after landing, that a German squad found her and two of the men. Her spirit was intent on protecting the men she ignored god's call and stayed on earth."

"HEY GEORGE!" A voice called breaking his line of thought.

Malarkey stood by George's shoulder waving a hand in front of his face. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Malarkey laughed.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Six days from the invasion, I stood, looking down at the town of Carentan. It was peaceful in a dead kind of way… no citizen walked its streets, and every so often there would be a squeak as a sign swayed on its chain. Yet the men crouched in ditches on either side of the road. Waiting for Winters's command.

Winters turned to a man and whispered in his ear before looking over the ridge once more at the town. There was a tap on my leg and I looked back. Eugene's brown eyes locked onto my own. "Stay with me."

"But what about…"

He shook his head, motioning me down into a crouch. "Buck can handle himself. You said it yourself you’re a ghost. What can you do?"

I looked down at the dirt thinking of my last try. I winced. The fear (and exhilaration) of running through the trenches alone, the one German soldier...

I fingered the hole in my jacket. "I can't just let the men get hurt." The words spilled halfheartedly out of my mouth

Eugene started at the men before us. "I don’t like it any better."

Almost as if on queue the men began to move. Running forward in half crouched columns they made their way down the hill with Lieutenant Welsh leading the way. "Come on First Platoon!"

German machine guns spat and cut down three of the men as they sprinted towards the town. "Into the ditches! Get down! Get down!" A yell rang out, the men thinking it was an order jumped to the side and huddled beside the road.

"MY GOD! YOU HAVE TO MOVE! YOU'RE SITTING TARGETS!" I screamed shooting to my feat and starting forward.

Winters seemed to have the same train of thought. He charged down the road screaming at the men. "GET UP! GET MOVING!" He wrenched one up and shoved him forward. "MOVE IT! YOU'RE SITTING DUCKS!"

I was starting down the hill when a hand closed around my calf. I pitched forward slamming into the ground. Air deserted my lungs and I hacked and gasped trying to fill them, my eyes watering.

"Stay Here." A voice snapped. There was the thud of a lone boot then the thunder of twenty others, as soldiers charged past.

The racket of the machine guns drowned the noise of the troop movement, and I looked at the backs of the disappearing platoon and wondered who it was that stopped me. A line of bullets slammed into the dirt inches from my hand brought an end to my reverie. I fear forced me to my feet and I sprinted back up the hill. Seeing Eugene I grabbed at his jacket and hid my face in his side, trembling in shock. There was an explosion, followed by a pained scream and the medic left my grip. I choked back tears trying to calm my racing heart. I waited long enough to get half of a grip and slunk back towards the top of the hill. I came to a stop next to Lewis Nixon. I looked at the swarthy man through watering eyes then surveyed the town.

Enemy machine guns ran rampant, their snipers were having a heyday and the men… my men were getting their asses handed to them. Or so it seemed. Lieutenant Welsh ran forward towards one of the gunners, a pair who decided to set up in the first floor of a shop. The Lieutenant charged up the side of the building and tossed a grenade through the window. The other men, those in the platoon that cut around the side, stormed the town. The men kicked down the doors and fired through windows in hope of finding the enemy. A man, I later discovered was George Luz, decimated walls with his bazooka with the help of Lieutenant Welsh.

Dust rose from the town blocking my unaided view of the battle. Beside me Nixon swore and shifted bringing a pair of binoculars to his eyes. I glanced around looking for who remained. Winters had moved beside the intelligence officer during the fight, which he too observed through a field glass, muttering to himself.

There was an explosion. I squinted at the town trying to find what was happening. "THEY GOT US ZEROED!" The yell barely reached the hill.

"DAMN!" Dick swore beside me.

The men started sprinting, gathering their buddies as they went. They charged into houses and hid. Some weren’t fast enough, shells hit beside them, throwing out shrapnel, and dust. I couldn’t look away. I was frozen. My body wouldn’t react. I was laid there looking down at the town of Carentan, watching as men received wounds that no amount of money could compensate.

The bombing slowed and the men trickled back into the streets, staying under shelter as they went. There at the edge of the town! The remainder of the German's ran towards the open fields. Shells burst from a nearby window throwing us clumps of dirt as they chased after the soldiers. No man escaped the fish in the barrel shot.

Silence enveloped the town and Winters motioned for the remaining platoon to go down. I rose with the men, finding use of my body now that the shots stopped ringing. Then Nixon pushed himself to his feat and groped around his breast pocket. He drew out a metal flagon and took a swallow. Then he glanced my way. His eyes fell upon my pale face. "Who the hell are you?"