Bastogne
The pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes was half-empty. Nonetheless, Port tugged it from the pocket of his trench coat as he emerged into the frigid air. He tucked a cigarette between his lips. As he trudged out onto the cracked cobblestones, he surveyed the street.
Since the line had broken, the town's atmosphere had changed for the better. Hope had resurged even among the most battle weary men. It didn’t hurt that they had the chance for a hot meal every so often now. In all honesty, Michael didn't care that the world thought Patton was their savior. The men who had served on that battered line knew they'd never needed saving. Michael darn well knew he hadn't.
He flicked his lighter. After several tries with no dice, it proved to be a fruitless effort. It had finally run dry after weeks in the Ardennes. He cussed, removing the cigarette from his lips.
A gaggle of new replacements loaded a supply truck across the street. Porter studied the scene. He realized that the supply officer overseeing the operation was female. She had her back to him, bundled in layers of winter uniform. Still he could detect the feminine curve of a waistline. It was a strange sight in this area. Most of the women present were nurses in the makeshift Aid Stations set up around Bastogne.
A private who was struggling with a container set it down beside a jeep behind the truck. The woman's gaze snapped over to him and she raised a hand, motioning him to bring it over. The corner of Porter's mouth pulled upwards as he recognized her. Edith Dixon brushed away an errant strand of blonde hair loose from her French braid. She snapped out another order and the Private rolled his eyes.
Port snorted and shook his mousy brown head. The Ice Queen, as some of the other officers called her, had raced to daddy's aid once the coast was clear. He had to admit, Edith knew her job and did it well.
He had no clue how Colonel Dixon managed to father such a handsome woman. She was the spitting image of Veronica Lake, not that it seemed to be of much use to her. The chance was slim that she had forgotten the tomato juice incident at Mourmelon. But heck, it was worth a shot.
After waiting for a jeep to pass, he crossed over. Porter strode up alongside her, still holding the packet of cigarettes.
"Wouldn't happen to have any Lucky Strikes or lighters in those boxes, would yah?" He asked, crooking an eyebrow.
Edith peered up from the clipboard. She narrowed her catlike eyes as recognition dawned across her face.
"Lieutenant Porter." She drawled in a monotone voice, her expression straight as an arrow, "Glad to see you are still alive. Having trouble finding a razor lately?"
Port ran bare fingers over his scruffy chin. "No, just can't seem to lose the five o'clock shadow no matter how hard I try."
"I'm sure. I’m just glad you aren’t carrying anything liquid today. I don’t feel like having to go change my clothes in the middle of a shipment." She replied, scanning the boys as they scurried under her sharp gaze.
Porter winced. No such luck. She would be the kind of broad who held grudges. He chuckled as he pulled his gloves out of his coat pocket, "Yeah, sorry about that. So you get here recently?"
"Yesterday actually."
"How are things back at Mourmelon?"
"You there. Private!" Edith called out, her voice spiking with authority. A skinny kid lit a cigarette and leaned up against the jeep, "You can smoke later. There are quite a few more things that need to be packed before we can head out.
The private shrugged and lifted the half smoked cigarette, "Almost done."
Porter shook his head. He could only imagine how frustrating it would be to a woman in Edith's position. No matter how well she did her job, she was only a skirt with a clipboard to some men.
"Private." Porter snapped, stepping forward, "You heard her. Get on with it."
The kid's mouth dropped and the cigarette tumbled from his fingers. He managed a startled salute, his gooseberry eyes widening, "Yes sir!"
The offending soldier scuttled inside, much to his comrades' amusement. Porter glanced back at Edith who suppressed a rare smile. Port felt triumphant at the sight of it. She raised a dusky eyebrow and made a mark on her inventory, "Mourmelon was business as usual when I left."
Porter fit his fingers into his gloves as the snow that had been threatening all day began to fall. It was almost late afternoon. She would be cutting it close returning from the line in time. In fact, he had yet to figure out how he was getting back to his own company.
"You wouldn't happen to be heading in my direction, Lieutenant?" He asked.
The back hatch on the supply truck closed with a slam.
"We're heading towards D Company's position but there are a couple boxes in the jeep for Item." Edith glanced over at him, "I suppose there is room for another."
Edith drove, following the truck as it bumped over the uneven roads ripe with frost heaves. Porter had his arm wrapped around the back of the seat, his boot propped up on the dashboard. After a few moments of silence, he pulled out his flask and took a swig. Edith peeked past the loose chin strap on her helmet. Her lips pursed in what he could only assume was disapproval. He offered the flask to her just the same.
"Here, it will help stave off the chill a little." He advised.
Edith shook her head, her eyes returning to the road ahead, "I don't drink."
Porter snorted, "So you don't approve of drinking or smoking. You're about as much fun as Alex McKay-"
"How is Lieutenant McKay?" She interjected after his statement, biting her full lower lip.
“You mean Captain McKay?”
Edith lifted a brow in his direction, “He was promoted?”
Port swallowed, ignoring the sting of envy at the news, “The Colonel felt he deserved a pick-me-up, I guess. He’s been the executive officer for months and doing a good job of it. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
"He’s done a heck of a job keeping everything under control best he can. Especially considering our little leadership problem in Item."
"You shouldn't talk about such things with non-officers. It looks bad."
"Who cares how it looks? You know it as well as we do." He took another swig and screwed the cap back on the flask, "Captain Lane is an unholy terror to his men."
Edith didn't answer. They passed under the shadowed eaves of the Ardennes forest. She leaned forward and flicked on the headlights. Porter studied her from the passenger side. Something about her gridlocked posture and direct gaze reminded him of Alex. It made him feel comfortable around her, though he barely knew the woman.
"Lieutenant Porter. If you could keep your eyes to yourself, it would make this whole venture much more pleasant for me." She snapped without a look in his direction.
Port smirked and turned forward. He crossed his arms over his chest against the bitter chill racing across the windshield. "Sure thing, Dixon."
The supply truck continued down the icy route as they branched away. Porter pointed into the dell where the rear of his company was positioned. They were far away from the outpost positions that faced the German line. Any closer and he was sure McKay would have his head for bringing a dame in so close. Port was pretty sure though that Edith could handle any German patrol lost in their neck of the woods.
He had her stop as they pulled up toward a trio of officers on the side of the road. The headlights fluttered off, white light scattering across the steady snowfall. Edith clicked the key out of the ignition. Port hopped from the vehicle and strode towards the men.
"Look who I found!" Porter hooked a thumb towards the jeep as Alex turned from his noncoms.
Alex peered over Porter's shoulder. Edith was rounding the backside of the jeep to unhook the back hatch. He let out a surprised humph, the corner of his lips arched up.
"She's something else, isn't she? The 101st's own Ice Queen. A fitting setting for her, I must say." Porter glanced at his friend.
Alex's face grew thoughtful. He clapped a hand against Porter's shoulder as he passed by him.
"Don't call her that, Port. She's already got enough matched up against her." Alex strode towards the cool blonde as she dropped a heavy container to the ground. "Get some of the men to help with these."
#
Alex hadn't found it difficult to keep Edith from his thoughts those first few days on the line. His mind was plenty occupied during the chaos of the vicious German offensive. Causalities, trench foot and below zero temperatures became the general rule of the day. The snipers worked round the clock. After the line was shattered, the company continued to get hit with mortars like it was the fourth of July.
But on silent evenings under the tarp in his foxhole, Alex stopped trying to keep from thinking about her. It helped when snow drifted over the edges of the frozen earth into his shelter.
He stopped fighting it. He recalled how the angles of her face had caught the candlelight that one evening in Paris. The brief enchanting memory of her on that library ladder the first time he had met her. In his few moments of peace during those hellish days, he allowed himself to drown in her absence.
She set another packed container onto the dirt road and peered up at him. He regretted having obsessed over her for so many weeks. He clenched his fists. Edith's face was only visible in the growing twilight once he was a hands breadth from her. Her closeness caused the blood to rush through his veins and kindle warmth in his icy flesh.
"Captain McKay," She nodded, “Congratulations on the promotion.”
Her eyes skirted away under his direct gaze. He knew he was staring but found it too difficult to stop. Even in layers of woolen army uniforms and laced up to the shins in her army boots, she was the most beautiful thing he had seen in weeks. As she wet her chapped lips, he fought the overwhelming urge to grasp her by the shoulders and kiss her soundly.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he coughed into his fist, "Does the Colonel know you are here?"
She laughed as a couple of the boys raced over to unload the jeep. "Yes of course, he's the one who requested my presence at the front."
"No, I mean this close to the German lines." He continued, his breath misting between them.
"I didn't mean to make it so late. We had a rough start this morning. Some of my men are a little less than thrilled to be taking orders from me." She gave him a shrug, "But I am heading back after I'm finished here. How are you?"
"We are hanging in there. Thankful to finally have the things we need to keep our position effectively."
"I am thankful that I can finally get you what you need. That last night before you left was a disaster. I can't help but still feel like I failed you all," she ran a gloved hand over her face at the recollection.
He scoffed, shifting his weight, "Edith, you did more than most would. We all appreciated- I appreciated what you did."
She confounded him with that unswerving stare of hers. At that moment, he was reminded of an astronomy class lecture. An asteroid pulled into the gravity of a star would burn up in its fiery atmosphere. Edith drew him in and burned him up to nothing with her presence.
"Got everything situated over here?" Porter barked as he came up behind Alex, jolting the senior officer out of his trance. "Lieutenant, you really need to get back to Bastogne."
Edith sniffed with the cold, her eyes trailing over to Porter, "Yes, of course. I hope these things help your boys out a little."
"I'm sure they will." Porter smiled, "You find your way back alright-"
"I’ll be fine, Lieutenant. I’m sure I will be back here sometime soon." She skipped back a step towards the other side of the vehicle.
Without another look in their direction, she switched it into drive. With that, Edith was gone with the same brevity and violence as a shooting star. Captain McKay glanced up. The cloud cover broke apart over them through the naked netting of tree branches.
"What a woman." Porter breathed as darkness fell on the Ardennes.
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