The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

64: Where We're Going

The evening before Mabs' birthday, preparations were in full swing. Mabs was oblivious, of course - or at least pretending to be - and was showering while Charlie, Autumn, and Boo decorated the mess hall with sheets of paper they'd made into bunting, spelling 'happy birthday Mabs'.

They had enlisted the help of one of the mess officers to pin it up, for even Charlie wasn't tall enough to reach as high as they wanted it to be, and when it was done they stood back to admire their arts and crafts work.

"If we were in Aldbourne, this would be so much better," Charlie said with a sigh. What they had done for her on her birthday had been so special. She resented that Mabs wouldn't get the same thing.

"She's gonna love it, Charlie," Boo reassured her, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

This, at least, Charlie knew to be true. Mabs was just that type of person. She always appreciated the small gestures.

On their way out of the mess hall and across the camp, heading back to their room, the trio were stopped short when a gaggle of men burst out of the room often used to show movies, all of them with heads ducked and shoulders hunched.

"That doesn't look good," Autumn observed as they stood back and watched them pass.

Charlie only heard snippets of their conversations, words like 'ridiculous' and 'exhausted' and others she didn't want to repeat carrying over to her on the icy wind and making her heart seize up. Whatever they were all complaining about, she could only hope it related to some training exercise or other scheduled for the following week, that it wasn't anything that would affect Mabs' birthday.

Back at the room, they found not only Mabs waiting for them but Henry. Both of them looked grave.

"We're moving out," Henry said simply. Her voice was blank but her eyes were sad, as though the rest of her face was too used to disappointment to bother revealing her sorrow. "Immediately," she added. "Gather all of your things and meet me at the bottom of the stairs in five minutes. Dress warm."

"Fuck," Autumn said.

The four of them turned the room upside down in their hurry to get ready to leave. Charlie hadn't even thought to pack up her carpet bag ready to go, so certain had she been that they'd be staying until March, as Captain Winters had thought. Books and clothes and toiletries were all shoved deep into her carpet bag in her haste, her locket clipped back on where she'd already removed it before bed. She moved with all of the grace of a man just struck by lightning.

All four of them hissed at the cold night air as they stepped back out into it. They'd all already showered, ready for bed, and their hair hadn't had time to dry. The ends of Charlie's hair were dripping a steady stream of water down her back, sticking the back of her ODs to her skin and leaving her shivering.

Henry was efficient with her orders. "Grab all of the medical supplies you can find and put them in your helmets. Even if they're not ours, grab them anyway. Trucks are leaving in five."

Each of them nodded and split up to scavenge whatever they could in the midst of the chaos of the camp.

Around every corner were men racing about, carrying crates or shouting orders or simply running with their heads down and their fists pumping. The sound of boots hitting concrete, of voices carrying over on the wind, of water dripping somewhere filled the night.

All of the places Charlie expected, or at the very least hoped, to find medical supplies, she found empty. The ward had already been emptied, which likely hadn't taken long on account of how few their supplies were, and the store rooms had, too. Anywhere else Charlie looked on the off chance someone might have left something behind was deserted, too.