The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

95: Sunsets in the Alps

Charlie didn't want to leave Berchtesgaden. She'd grown fond of it - and especially fond of the house decorated in pink she'd been staying in, with its balcony looking out onto snow-capped mountains more majestic than anything she'd ever seen. But she was still under orders and that meant she had to pack up her things and climb onto the trucks just like everyone else.

She was nursing a terrible hangover, also like everyone else, and the movement of the truck over bumpy dirt roads only made it worse. But she hadn't eaten in a while, which meant she didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up, so while she gagged all that she ever ended up coughing up was saliva and bile.

They travelled for an hour before Henry said their destination was coming into view, and suddenly Charlie wasn't all that upset about leaving Berchtesgaden behind anymore.

If Germany had been pretty, Austria was stunning.

The difference was clear first and foremost in the colour of the grass. Even in the parts of Germany largely untouched by the war, the land still betrayed its part in the conflict. But here the grass was as green as it was back home in New Hampshire - greener, even. It sparkled in the morning sunlight like a million tiny emeralds, throwing out their light just to give whoever saw them something to smile about.

The sky was bluer than any sky Charlie had ever seen, and the trees taller, fuller, healthier than she could remember trees ever being. It floored her to think that while all of the fighting was going on there had still been things simply living. Not living to fight, but living in spite of everything trying to make them die. Just living. Trees growing strong and healthy out of the ground because that was simply what trees did.

The lake named Lake Zell was still and bright blue. It looked like glass. Reflected in the edges of its waters were mountains, closer, prettier, more imposing than the ones even in Berchtesgaden.

So much beauty all in one place. How was it possible that there existed places which contained so much to marvel at? How was it possible that there existed places which hadn't seen a single bomb, shell, or bullet throughout the entirety of the war?

They drove past two long lines of German soldiers walking on foot, clearly not so happy to be leaving Zell am See behind, and then, eventually, they came upon civilians. The vast majority of them were women, for the younger men would currently be surrendering along with the German Army, and they were all too enthusiastic to return the paratroopers' waves and calls of greeting.

Charlie simply sat and smiled as she watched the men in the line of trucks before her wave and nudge each other, probably already deciding which of the women they were going to seek out and flirt with later. Much had changed over the course of her time in the war but if one thing had remained constant it was that where soldiers found women they would think of little else.

It took a long time to get everyone and everything organised when the trucks finally came to a stop. Eventually it was decided that all of the men from Easy, along with the nurses, would be staying in the main hotel in Zell am See, whose staff informed them they had more than enough rooms to accommodate them. Most of the men were put up in rooms in the basement, which sounded worse than it was; usually reserved for staff, the basement had a main room with couches and chairs and tables and two hallways leading away from it, with good sized rooms on either side of both hallways. Once those rooms were all filled, some of the more respected NCOs along with Floyd, as first sergeant, were given actual hotel rooms to share, two to a room, one floor above where the nurses were situated. Charlie was sharing with Mabs, of course, and Boo with Autumn, and Henry smiled smugly when she was handed the key to a room of her very own.

"Rank has its privileges," was all she said to the others before she disappeared into a room with a double bed and an en-suite bathroom.

The room Charlie was sharing with Mabs had two single beds, both of them with their headboards pushed flush against a white wall, upon which hung a painting of the hotel with the mountains behind it. The sheets on the beds were also white, but luxurious, and the pillows were voluminous. Blue curtains were drawn across large floor-to-ceiling windows opposite the door and, when Charlie pulled them back, she found a balcony and squealed.