The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

103: Shocked Into Silence

Charlie got a reprimand for her behaviour at the checkpoint. It wasn't formal, which meant there was no real damage done to her rank or potential future career in nursing, but Henry made it clear when she delivered the informal reprimand that this was only because the officers had agreed to go easy on her out of respect not just for her grief but for her work.

"If you weren't as good a nurse as you are," Henry cautioned her, "it could've been much worse."

The only punishment Charlie got was not being allowed to work for three days, which she secretly thought was more out of sympathy than it was out of discipline. She spent those days in Floyd's room, because she didn't much want to see Mabs and face whatever disappointed words she had for Charlie after she'd undoubtedly heard about the entire affair from Speirs.

Floyd found out from both Gene and Winters. It was Gene who got to him first, mercifully, and explained the situation. Later, Winters had apparently informed him that there would be no real repercussions and that he and the other officers who'd been on the receiving end of Charlie's ire were more concerned than angry.

It was perhaps because of this that Floyd was being so supportive about the whole thing. There had been no rant about being irresponsible and no concerned coddling. He'd simply been there for her and let her come to him for whatever she needed (which was mostly just his room and his affection).

Charlie spent her first day of solitude sitting in his bed reading. The book was For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway, one of the books being passed around the men in the company, and it had been gifted to her by Frank, who was her primary source of books these days. She hadn't managed to get very far through it, however, for how her mind kept wandering whenever she tried to focus on the words on the page. Pictures of Janovec's face would flash back to her, both pale in death and bright in life, and she'd be stuck in pools of memory for long stretches of time before she came back to herself and had to try to start reading again.

This continued for a long time until she put the book down and decided to try to write to her parents, which also turned out to be a dead end task she couldn't concentrate on either. She tried to sit on the balcony afterwards, but found it wasn't all that fun to sit out there during the day, not when Floyd's room's balcony overlooked the square and thus people could see her.

Charlie returned to her book and tried her hardest to concentrate, then abandoned her efforts to sleep. Just as it had after Holland, sleep came to Charlie easily in spite of her distraction, and though she fought with memories of bombs dropped into icy holes in the ground and the exploding of snowy trees, she whiled away the hours that way until evening.

After she woke, Charlie simply laid in bed for a while. She stared up at the ceiling and flashes of ghosts filled her peripheral vision, and she let them. How many ghosts, she wondered, would join her collection before she went home to her parents? And would she be carrying them around with her for the rest of her life?

The sound of a key in a lock made her sit up. The white comforter pooled in her lap and she curled her fingers into it. Though she knew who would be at the door, she still smiled when he appeared.

"My favourite," Charlie cooed in greeting as Floyd shut the door behind him. She held out both arms for him, like a toddler asking to be picked up, and he grinned as he crossed the room to her.

"You are such an angel," Floyd said as he took hold of her hands and bent to give her a soft kiss.

She hummed her acknowledgement of this statement as he sat on the edge of the bed and made a start on taking off his boots.

"I think all the other people in my life would disagree with you on that front," Charlie said with a small smile.

Floyd looked at her sidelong with a grin. "All the other people in your life don't know you like I do."