25: Footprints

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Posey felt she had spent her life in asking for wishes which were never granted. Just this once, however, the universe seemed to have taken pity on her. The RMS Samaria docked in England.

Her first day back on home soil was spent, for the most part, on a train. They were being transported from Liverpool to somewhere down south - they hadn't been told where, as was typical of the army, but it was closer to London than Liverpool was and that was good enough for Posey. She spent the majority of the journey gazing out at the English countryside, longing for the moment she'd be able to breathe in the air of home. With every second she drew so close to home she could almost hear the shouting of newspaper headlines and the screech of car tyres.

In order to get away she knew she'd have to wait for a weekend pass and she prayed it wouldn't take too long to get one. They'd still be training in England - field manoeuvres and some other such - but she was hoping Sobel would ease up on his iron-fisted rule now that they'd made it overseas. She was hoping for a lot of things, really, but that was certainly one of the biggest (and most unlikely).

They ended up in Aldbourne, a small countryside village Posey had never heard of. It was close to Swindon, which she had heard of, and about a two hour train journey to London. She couldn't wipe the smile off of her face after they'd been told, having been informed they could go to London on weekend passes if they were willing to make the trek. A mere two hours from home. Her heart both ached with longing and lifted with excitement. She felt lighter than she had in months.

Their barracks were set up just on the outskirts of the village and, as always, Posey managed to procure a bunk by the door. She did so with a small smile tugging at her lips; she wouldn't have to be doing this for much longer. She'd be going home and then she'd be Posey again, as opposed to Josephine or Wells or Duckie. Her heart clenched at the thought.

She sat in the mess hall smiling into her food. She didn't talk much - she found she didn't have much to say beyond what she couldn't disclose for obvious reasons - but she didn't feel nearly as alone as she had for what seemed like forever. She listened in on the conversations around her with vague interest but really was just trying to commit each voice to memory. Her days with Easy Company were numbered now and, as much as the thought thrilled her, it made her sad too. She'd grown rather fond of some of the men. She thought she might miss being part of Second Platoon. Or maybe she'd just miss being part of something. Something special, that was. Something worth being part of.

"What's got you grinnin' like a fool, Duckie?" Malarkey asked around a mouthful of food.

Posey made a face at his terrible table manners but her smile still tugged at her lips. "Just thinking of weekend passes in London," she said. This wasn't entirely a lie.

"God, I'm dreamin' about 'em," Luz declared. "I wonder if British girls are anythin' like American ones."

"Too good for you, you mean?" Posey quipped with a grin.

Luz was undeterred by her comment. He went on, "I heard these European girls are easier to get than back home. Somethin' about they got no morals."

Posey rolled her eyes. "Even if they don't have morals they've still got eyes, Luz. One look at you and they'll soon find their morals again."

Luz scoffed and brushed her away. "Yeah, fuck you, alright? I'll get me a British dame, don't you worry."

Posey laughed. There had been no bite to his words, but also no conviction.

"Ain't sure there's gonna be many in this place, anyway," Toye put in. "Looks like we're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere."

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