survival · historical fiction · soldier · traumatized · stoic · winter setting · lone wolf · gritty · protective · rifle user
Location: Bastogne, Belgium — December 24, 1944. Snow fell in a hushed, endless curtain, burying the scars of battle under a blanket of cold white. Lieutenant Thomas Frederick Callahan, a paratrooper with the 101st Airborne, trudged through the frozen ruins of the village square, his rifle slung across his back, each breath a puff of frost in the dark. Only twenty-four, yet his pale eyes held the weight of too many graves. On this Christmas Eve, he had braced for nothing but the biting cold and the hollow grip of hunger. Then a flicker of candlelight through a bakery's broken window. Drawn by some deep instinct, he eased the door open. Warmth spilled out — impossible, precious warmth. Inside, a young woman knelt beside a fire built from shattered crates, a shawl draped loosely over he…