"Suture": A Saving Private Ryan Story

9th June, 1944
(D-Day Plus 3)
•••••

Captain John Miller of Charlie Company frowned at his commanding Lieutenant Colonel Walter Anderson's question. He dipped a hand into his jackets' pocket, pulling a small, grubby piece of paper from it, unfurling it between his fingers, clearing his throat.
"Well…" He paused, smoothing the paper and gathering his head, "…the figures were 35 dead, times two wounded. They just didn't want to give up those 88's" Miller sighed, trailing off at the grim circumstance that had developed. Miller felt his eyes downcast to a flimsy table covered in maps. He stared emotionlessly at them, lost in his own thoughts for a moment.
"It was a tough assignment. That's why you got it." The Lieutenant Colonel paused, turning back around to see Miller's blank state. "John," Anderson quickly pulled him back to reality, causing the Captain to turn and face him. "I got another one for you."
"Yes sir." Miller replied almost robotically, confusion spreading across his features. Miller's commanding officer stared pointedly into the Captain's eyes, giving him a slight nod of his head.
"This one's straight from the top."

•••••

"You and I are taking a squad over to Neuville for a public relations mission." Miller reiterated the assignment to his Sergeant and confidant, Mike Horvath. Horvath gave him a questionable look as they continued walking down the slope of the sandy hill, away from the Officer's base and towards the soldiers that lounged on the sand bags that were lined across Omaha Beach.
"You, me and a squad?" Horvath questioned in a somewhat hoarse voice. Miller made a sound of recognition, continuing his mission brief.
"Private in 101st lost 3 brothers; now he gets a ticket home." Miller stated simply about the subject of his new task. Various military jeeps drove past them, continuing up over the crest of the hill behind them, troops clustered on the back, ready to be drafted on missions throughout Normandy. Horvath mulled over this new information of their mystery soldier, and his possible importance.
"How come Neuville?" Horvath raised a brow, skipping over a chunk of driftwood, Miller leading him down the windy path towards the beach.
"They think he's up here somewhere…part of all those airborne miss drops." Miller scratched his head, not liking the sound of this at all. Horvath shot him a disbelieving look.
"Not gonna' be easy finding one uh, particular soldier in the middle of this goddamn-" Horvath began, being cut off by his superior.
"-Like finding a needle in a stack of needles." Miller finished bluntly. The two began weaving their way through a crowd of soldiers, Horvath removing his canteen, taking a swig of some stale tasting water before passing it to Captain Miller.
"What about the company?" Horvath asked, his voice slightly richer, the water clearing the dryness in his throat.
"We take the pick of the litter and the rest get folded into Baker." Miller unscrewed the lid, taking a long swig from the mud caked bottle.
"Jesus Christ, they took away your company?" The Sergeant swore at the Captain's sudden loss of men to the Baker Company, which neither the Captain or the soldiers would be too happy about. Miller continued to walk beside him, a slight sarcasm filling his voice.
"It wasn't my company to begin with, it was the army's. So I'm told anyways…" He finished on a somewhat bitter tone, sliding the canteen into his back pant pocket. "Could be Reiben on B.A.R, Jackson, Wade, Beasley and Caparzo." Miller began listing his possible choices for the mission at hand to his Sergeant, as a confirmation of his decision.
"Beasley's dead." Horvath didn't miss a beat, remarking emotionlessly.
"All right, Mellish then." He continued, "We got anybody who can speak French?" They both dodged several soldiers carrying boxes, letting the jog by.
"Not that I know of." Horvath slowed as Miller went to pick up his bag from where a good thirty or so soldier's sat with their own gear, talking and taking drags of their cigarettes.
"What about Talbot?" Miller asked curiously, glancing at several other dirty, army issued packs before finding his own.
"This morning." Horvath jumped in, informing that his Captain's choice had passed on. Miller sighed, sliding his bag onto his shoulder with a soft grunt, his feet squelching in the mud.
"Oh right. Better go dig up an interpreter then." Miller reasoned, falling back into step with his Sergeant as they continued up the hill, Horvath parting with him as he went to round up the chosen men.

•••••

"I need someone who speaks French and German, my two guys were killed." Miller looked at the small, scrawny looking man that stood before him. He had dark hair, a timid stance and somewhat innocent brown eyes. Corporal Timothy P. Upham fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt, stuttering slightly.
"I haven't handled a weapon since basic training sir…" He pointed out shyly. Miller didn't look up from the paperwork he was scrawling on, the runner waiting to the side ready to deliver the papers to the higher ranking officers in charge.
"Did you fire the weapon in basic training?" He questioned in a rhetorical way.
"Yes sir." Corporal Upham whispered in response. Miller continued his paperwork.
"Well then get your gear." He finished in a distracted tone, Corporal Upham beginning to scramble for his things.

•••••

"So I don't get it. They wanna' risk 8 of us for one guy?" B.A.R First Class Private Richard Reiben's Boston accent filled the air as he sat on a pile of sandbags outside the officer's tents. Apparently, there was another perk to this mission, as well as the skittish interpreter the Captain had thrown in at last minute. Marksmen Daniel Jackson sat on the ground near Reiben's feet, wiping some mud off of the barrel of his rifle, careful to polish the scope.
"Well, it's stupid. Sure, poor old unlucky Mrs. Ryan lost 3 outta' 4 kids, but she won't be the only one." Stanley Mellish added in sardonically, fiddling wit his dog tags that were imprinted with Star of David. An awkward silence fell over the group. Adrian Caparzo, a man of stocky build and a shaven head (a resident softie on the inside), chucked the stub of his cigarette into the dirty ground, crushing it with one heavy boot. Next to him sat the group's Fourth Grade Medical Technician (T/4) Irwin Wade. He was sifting through his pack, counting medical supplies under his breath. Upham merely sat quietly, somewhat detached from the group. Captain Miller and Sergeant Horvath suddenly emerged from the green canvas tent, all six men standing to attention hastily. Miller didn't address them, neither did Horvath; they only walked over to where their own packs were, Miller stringing out the new information to them.
"Seems we'll have a few more new additions…" The forty-something year old Captain scratched his head, shifting the pack so it rested comfortably against his back before heading in the direction of the medical tent. The group shared a brief look between themselves, grabbing their own belongings and following him grudgingly.
"Captain?" Jackson's southern voice caught the attention of the Superior. Miller smiled at Jackson's formalities.
"Yes Jackson?"
"If you don't mind me askin' sir," Jackson twisted the little matchstick of wood in his teeth as he spoke, "Why do we need more people in our lil' group? With all due respect sir, we'd become a greater target for them Son of a Bitch's out there." Jackson finished, earning chuckles from Mellish, Caparzo and Horvath. Miller turned to catch Jackson in his peripherals as he walked.
"Well Jackson, when I tell you to do something, what are you supposed to do?" Miller asked with some humour. Jackson smiled lightly.
"Sir, I believe I would have to follow through with your order sir." Horvath shot the Captain a look. He could see where this was going.
"That's right Jackson. Now when I get an order from someone ranked higher then me, what am I supposed to do?" Miller continued his game in amusement.
"Follow through with the order sir." Caparzo added in, mimicking Jackson's southern drawl. Jackson shot him a weary look as the rest of the group chuckled.
"Which is why, I must take the two extra medics we are being assigned, along on our mission." Miller finished, earning a variety of confused grunts in return.
"Wait, we got our buddy Wade here," Reiben clapped their T/4 on the shoulder affectionately, "Why do we need any more?" Horvath rolled his eyes, getting annoyed with all the questions.
"Look, the big shots who gave us this mission say it's too dangerous to go without extra medical assistance." Horvath recited in a bored tone.
"Well at least we'll know someone'll be around to save Upham's ass." Mellish jumped in at the perfect opportunity to insult their new interpreter. He gave the scrawny man a sly look. "Sorry I meant Corporal." He slurred condescendingly, obviously hating that a shrimp like Upham was a rank higher then he was.

Miller continued to lead the team down through the various army personnel, approaching a large, white canvas tent marked with a Red Cross either side. The screams, yells and moans of injured men became louder as they walked closer. An uneasy feeling overwhelmed the troop. No doubt the screams reminding them too much of their initial landing on Omaha Beach, barely three days ago. Miller opened a letter stamped with the U.S. Army's approval, glancing down at the page before folding it up again and sliding it into his pocket. The group avoided looking into the doorway at the dozens of wounded men lying on stretcher type beds; looking either in extreme pain or half dead. The air was thick with the smell of blood, bile and other bodily fluids.
"So men, we're looking for a Dr. Reed." Miller scanned his platoon's faces before facing the soldier that stood with a clipboard at the tent's entrance. At Dr. Reed's name, the soldier with the clipboard gave them a incredulous look, raising an eyebrow.
"Dr. Reed and Assistant Medical Technician Kilter?" The tall soldier didn't even bother looking down the list of names on his pad. He raised his eyebrows higher when Miller checked the letter and confirmed it.
"Good luck then." The soldier replied in his deep voice, disappearing into the medical tent. A few minutes later a lean young man with light brown hair came out. He looked about 26ish, with sky blue eyes and thin features. He had a long face, skinny nose and pointed chin. He wore a uniform similar to Wade's, adorned with the Red Cross symbol, except he was covered with wet, dark blood. He smiled brightly sticking his hand out to Captain Miller.
"Captain Miller." The young man spoke with a distinguishably British accent. He grasped his hand firmly and politely, the Captain shaking in return.
"Dr. Reed." At this, the young medic laughed briefly, earning confused expressions.
"Sorry sir, I'm not Dr Reed. Samuel Kilter, Assistant Medical Technician for Dr Reed…" He explained with another infectious smile, his British accent finishing in a joking way, "A 'male nurse' if you will." Miller smiled on slightly back at the young Nurse, unsure whether this young English boy was aware he was in a war zone or not. However, the lad went around to each of his group, shaking their hand enthusiastically introducing himself. The group gave him sceptical responses, merely stating their name and rank.
"So uh…where's this Dr. Reed?" Horvath glanced around, not seeing anyone emerging anytime soon. Kilter was about to reply when a frustrated yelp sounded from inside the tent, above the cries of the injured. There was a few clashing sounds of medical instruments knocking together, Kilter giving Miller's group a knowing smirk. The men were silent as a blood covered brunette female stomped out from inside the medical tent. The troop all stared disbelievingly at her, giving her a good few looks over.

"If the bastard stood still, I could've stopped the bleeding! But No! He had to go into shock didn't he…" The woman ranted with a noticeably foreign accent, ripping off her bloody surgical gloves and throwing them violently to the ground, stamping a boot clad foot in finality. She was of average height, if not tall for a woman. Her standard issue camouflage green cargo pants were soaked with blood, the toes of her lace up boots splattered with what looked like veins or some other bodily ligament. The crimson blood has soaked her green T-Shirt, making it stick to her body, showing off curved hips, a slim waist and rather large breasts. Her dog tags hung just in her cleavage, along with what appeared to be a smoky, amber coloured vial of liquid on a chain. Even with her face scrunched up in a scowl, it was apparent she was rather pretty, with nicely shaped lips, tanned skin and glistening green eyes. Her brown hair was shoved into a messy ponytail on her head, strands falling around her face and in her eyes, most of it caked with drying blood. After sobering up a bit, she cleared her throat at the awkwardness that had befallen the group. Her arm was clean until the forearm, where the gloves had stopped. The rest of her arm was stained pink. She stuck her (clean) right hand out to Captain Miller as Samuel had done. Miller shook it somewhat gently, although she kept a firm grip. She wasn't one to be treated gently simply because she was female.

"Dr. Audrey Reed, 2nd Grade Technical Sergeant." She spoke confidently, in the accent that was so unfamiliar to the American's ears. It sounded slightly British, but it obviously wasn't, as she sounded nothing like her assistant. Noticing their blank faces, she could see they were obviously trying to decipher her country of origin. "I'm Australian. I know, sometimes we can be confused for British unless we have one next to us…" at this, she smacked Kilter in a mocking way, making him shove her back. Both of them seemed to get along like children in a school yard. Horvath cleared his throat, muttering to his Captain under his breath.
"Captain…we can't have a girl on our team…she might jeopardize our mission." He stressed to Miller. He soon realised Audrey was glaring at him pointedly. Kilter chuckled nervously.
"She has excellent hearing…" He gulped. Audrey continued glaring at a dumb struck Horvath, flipping hair out of her face, hands on her hips. The 8 men were shocked as she suddenly flipped him the bird.
"What the – " Horvath began angrily, but she'd already begun walking off, yelling back to them flippantly.
"Gonna' go grab my junk and clean up. Sam, come get me when they're not so sexist." She soon disappeared into the flock of miliary men, the group turning to Kilter in expectance.
"I guess I'll…go get cleaned up too…" He paced his voice carefully, trying not to make the situation any more embarrassing. He too began to walk off into the crowd. Mellish, Caparzo and Wade finally collapsing into peals of laughter, even Reiben and Upham cracking smiles.
"Sir?" Jackson addressed Miller suddenly.
"What Jackson?" Captain turned to his marksmen with a partially amused look.
"I like them." Jackson grinned, twisting the splinter of wood between his lips again.

A/N: Hi Guys! This is my first attempt at a 'Saving Private Ryan' story. It is actually a story I only started yesterday, after watching the movie for the billionth time (Sadly, I am a major War/Horror movie nut), and having the same inner battle of whether I should actually go through with writing one or not. Please! Anyone out there! I'd love to know what you guys think, or any comments you have. Pointers and critisism or all kind are welcome!


RANKS: Here's a list of differant Ranks that were used in WWII, and are often reffered to in Saving Private Ryan. The ranks in SPR were the 1942 edited versions. Certain ranks have changed since then, but only the ones listed here are important.Field Marshal
General
Brigadier
Colonel
(Miller's superior is one of these)
Major (Horace Hughes, my OC is one)
Captain (John Miller is one)
Lieutenant
Sergeant Major
Master Sergeant
Technical Sergeant (Mike Horvath is one. Also, since Wade is a T/4, he can be addressed as such, and is of the same rank. Dr. Audrey Reed, my OC is a Technician 2nd Grade T/2)
Staff Sergeant
Corporal (Timothy P. Upham is one of these. He is also a Technician 5th Grade T/5 Interpreter. Nurse Samuel Kilter is also a T/5 Medic)
Private (Richard Reiben is a Private First Class, meaning he is essentially a high ranking private. Stanley Mellish, Daniel Jackson and Adrian Caparzo all hold a regular rank of private.)

DISCLAIMER: (I'm only doing one of these, right here and now, since obviously if anyone on fanfic actually owned rights to anything, they wouldn't waste time writing fan fiction on it would they?)- I do not own any of the characters, places or military property mentioned in the story.
- I do not own THE RIGHTS to Saving Private Ryan, however I do own a DVD copy purchased legally at the local Video Ezy.
- I do not own any of the actors, camera equiptment or film used to make Saving Private Ryan

I DO HOWEVER OWN:

- Dr Audrey Reed
- Male Nurse Samuel Kilter
- Major Horace Hughes (You will have to read the story to find out exactly who this is...he's important later on)
- Any other OC's I make up between now and the end of the story.

PLEASE REVIEW! That would motivate me more (even though I will continue to write even if I don't get any feedback) and next chapter's authors note, I will reveal the pairing I'm writing about. (I already know now, I'm just evil by making you wait...Muahaha!)

GLOSSARY/EXTRA INFORMATION:

-B.A.R stands for Browning Automatic Rifle. B.A.R men were specially trained to use these guns, as well as in some more tactical combat techniques.

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