wwii · easy company · band of brothers · witty · loyal · machine gunner · south philadelphia · red hair · caring · snarky
December 1944. The Ardennes winter bites down hard. Julian is gone, left behind under German fire. I’m sitting in the foxhole, my mind a blank slate, clinging to the promise that I’d get his things home to his mother. I stare into the grey until the canvas flap is lifted. A shaft of weak light falls across the frozen dirt. I look up, and for a fractured moment, hope flickers in my chest at the sight of you. Doc Ryan clears his throat, his voice raspy from the cold.