UPDATED 05/11/2022. Made some good revisions here. I'm excited to update chapter 17, though! I like those revisions a lot.

This chapter is dedicated to the 75th Anniversary of D-Day, and everyone who participated in this major event. I watched Saving Private Ryan around the anniversary date...what a movie, am I right?

* * * * *

There was a rumor that they would have been sent back to England, but instead, Easy Company went to Haguenau. It was inconvenient for Madison, for she had a fever. It wasn't pneumonia like Lipton had, but she was ill nonetheless. She had a constant headache, her eyes felt as they were burning, and she generally felt weak. Of course, after all that she had gone through, she had to go through this. Whoever spread their germs, Madison was going to kill them.

On the trip to Haguenau, Madison was one of the members of Easy who were able to catch a ride in the jeeps. She slept most for most of the ride, snuggled into Liebgott's side for warmth. It felt nice, being able to sit down and rest after all that has happened.

Madison started having trouble sleeping since Foy. Before, her nightmares weren't too frequent. The only major recurrence was when she went MIA in Holland. She could not get that one event out of her mind. Lately, however, she had been having more nightmares that consisted a lot of how she had spent her winter: in the cold with constant flashes of blinding light. She saw Bill and Toye, Skip and Penkala, Julian, Web; all the ghosts of Easy Company. It was unpleasant.

Madison wasn't sure when they arrived in Haguenau, but it was sometime in early February. Haguenau was a small commune, damp and cold and gray; destroyed by arterially. If it wasn't so war torn and still winter, it could have been a beautiful little village.

Madison was fully awake by the time Easy Company entered the town. She was staring off into space when she heard someone greeting them. She turned her head to find David Webster, the Company Scholar, back from months of rehabilitation from...was it the crossroads he was wounded at? It had to be, because Madison didn't remember him getting hit in Eindhoven, and she had not seen him when she and Bill returned to the men before setting off for Bastogne.

Seeing Webster made something burn in Madison. Something unpleasant.

"Hey, guys!" Webster greeted. "Some guy told me to report to Second. You're Jackson, right?"

Private Eugene Jackson was giving him a hard stare. All of them were. Nevertheless, Jackson still answered.

"That's right."

"Who's leading the platoon?" Webster asked. The more he talked, the more Madison became agitated. Can he just can it already?

"It's Don," Madison answered shortly; moodily. Webster glanced at her, before looking up to Malarkey. Malarkey had been standing up on the entire ride to Haguenau, staring out into the horizon, just like how Madison was.

"What, no officers?" Webster asked. Madison internally groaned.

"I guess you didn't hear," Liebgott started.

"No. What's that?" Webster asked.

"They're making Malarkey lieutenant," Liebgott said. "He's on the fast track now."

Madison shot him a perplexed look before looking up to Malarkey, who had yet to interact or even move. He seemed to be frozen in place. The winter had not only been hard on Madison, but it had been hard for Malarkey, too. Truthfully, it had been hard for everyone.

"Really? That's great," Webster nodded, before looking at Jackson. "Jackson, help me up will ya?" he requested, throwing his army-issued bag into the truck, climbing on as Jackson gave him a hand.

"You must have really loved that hospital," Liebgott commented, as Webster finally got settled in next to Jackson and diagonal from Madison. "Because, uh, we left Holland four months ago."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Liebgott was bitter, and he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

"I wasn't there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot," Webster began to explain, which caused Madison to become even more annoyed if it was possible.

"Why didn't you try to bust out and help us in Bastogne, Web?" Liebgott bit. Madison couldn't help but develop a small smirk on her lips. She looked at Babe and could tell he was amused by Liebgott's snark as well.

"I don't know how I could have done that," Webster said. Madison turned to him.

"I found a way, and I still had a concussion," Madison started. "Popeye found a way, too. He was shot in the ass and couldn't sit down. Joe and Bill found ways, too."

"Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon sergeant?"

Madison, Babe, and Liebgott all shared looks of disbelief as

Jackson told him what had happened to Bill and Toye, on how they were hit during an arterially barrage. Madison had tuned it out. She didn't want to think or talk about it. It was still hard to talk about her experiences in the frozen, wintry hell of the Belgian forests.

As the trucks stopped, the members of second platoon hopped out, and Webster had still not realized how no one really wanted to hear his questions.

"Hey, Maddie, where's Skip? You—"

"You know what, Web?" Madison interrupted him, staring up at him coldly. "You need to learn when to shut the fuck up because you know why?" Madison's voice was rising higher and higher by the second, which led to some of the men around her starting to get nervous. "It's because he's fucking dead!"

As soon as Madison yelled those words, she began to choke up, her hands flying to her neck as she tried not to cry. It was painful to mention Skip, or Alex, or Hoobler, or anyone who has gotten wounded, and this bright-eyed, ignorant soldier by the name of David Webster just made it worse because he wasn't there. He wasn't there when Easy Company needed it, and it added salt to the wound.

"And you know what?" Madison asked, attempting to keep her emotions down. "Just stop talking. Don't even fucking ask, because if you don't see anyone, then they're probably dead and blown to goddamn smithereens!"

Before anything else can be said, Madison marched—with Babe somewhat escorting her—away before she could do anything else. As soon as her back was turned towards Webster and the others, tears started to escape.

"I'm sorry," Madison cried, almost collapsing to the ground. Babe grabbed her before her knees were able to hit the gravel.

"You don't need to be sorry," Babe said. "I'm glad someone told him to shut up. I know Bill would be proud of it, too."

Madison started to laugh, although it was hard to tell if she was actually laughing or actually crying.

Madison was about to say something until Roe had found the pair of friends. He took one look at Madison before shaking his head.

"You're sick," he decreed. He knew she was starting to get sick, but he really couldn't do anything about it until now. "You need rest. No objections."

"Don't worry, Doc, I'll keep an eye on her," Babe promised. His voice had humor in it, yet he was serious. For effect, he swooped Madison up bridal style and carried her off to where second platoon was staying. Madison tried to fight it, but it was no use. She was in a weakened state and her vision started to get blurry with each step she took. Any of the men could easily overpower her. It was better to just give in and let them help her.

* * * * *

The duo found second platoon in one of the battered and worn houses. True to his word, Babe carried Madison up the stairs, before setting her down.

"Alright, lay down."

"No—"

"Doc's orders, Maddie."

Madison gave him a look, before begrudgingly crawling into one of the bottom bunks and curling up into a ball, partially burying her face with her arm and facing the wall. She felt the mattress sink as Babe sat down on it. She could hear the other men conversing quietly, perhaps out of consideration for their sick medic. Madison couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

"Hey, guys," Webster's voice filled the room. Madison quietly groaned. "This is Lieutenant Jones. He's just been assigned to second platoon."

"Malarkey. Platoon sergeant," Malarkey introduced himself.

"Congratulations" was all Madison had heard from this Lieutenant Jones before he mumbled something. There was a pause following, before she heard Malarkey clearly say, "What?"

"They're making you an officer, no?" Lieutenant Jones asked.

"Me? No. You must be thinking of First Sergeant Lipton," Malarkey answered.

"I knew it," Madison mumbled. She heard Babe laugh at that. "Shut up, Edward."

Babe stopped. Madison could feel his mood of offense radiating. "Hey! Only the nuns call me Edward!"

"Well...it looks like I'm Sister Madison now," Madison replied. Although, in her opinion, "Sister Maddie" or "Sister Klein" would be a much better name.

"Sergeant, a patrol is being planned tonight. 0100 hours. Across the river," Lieutenant Jones said, loud enough for the two friends to hear. They both gave each a look. Madison mouthed, "fuck." Babe nodded in agreement.

Before anything could be said, Chuck Grant joined Madison and Babe, sitting down on the bed and holding out a tin of army brand coffee.

"Hey, Maddie, we figured you might want some coffee," Grant said. Madison slowly sat up in the bunk, staring at the coffee.

"You need something in your stomach," Grant added, handing Madison some rations. She didn't respond.

"And some meds might help too."

Madison stared at him. At this moment, she felt like she was truly still a child. The men assisting her in her fever reminded her of how her mother treated any of the Klein children while they were sick. It was a nice feeling. She may not always like it when the men got too protective or babied her, but it was nice to be taken care of once in a while.

Silently, Madison took the coffee, sipping it a little. "It's good."

"Well, ain't that a surprise, the coffee's good!" Babe grinned, and Madison couldn't help but give a small smile. Grant handed her pills, and she took them.

"Thank you, Chuck. You're a real sweet guy," she said. Then she noticed how the rest of the men were crowding around the bunks, conversing quietly. Her face fell. "What's going on?"

"There's a patrol going on, Speirs wants fifteen of us to go." Liebgott answered, looking at Webster. "Who are they? Come on, I know you're holding out on me, Web."

"Just tell us the names," Ramirez said.

Webster started to cave in. "There are three men, in this room, that he thinks should be on the patrol." Madison couldn't help but give him her permanent look of annoyance.

"Who?" Ramirez pressed on.

Webster looked a little nervous. "If I tell you, you can't let on that you know."

"Your secret's safe," Liebgott promised. "Who is it?"

Webster took in all of their faces. The first place he looked was the bottom bunk that had Madison, Babe, and McClung (Madison didn't notice that he had sat down). They were all exhausted.

"Babe," Webster started.

"Shit," Babe muttered, facepalming himself. McClung comforting arm around him as Madison gently patted his back.

"McClung," Webster added, then looked back at Ramirez. "And you."

"Anyone else from any of the other platoons?" Madison spoke up. Webster looked down to her, taking in how sick and awful she really looked. She was a hot mess, and thinking back to what he asked her earlier...well, he felt even more guilty than before.

"No. I mean, I don't know," Webster corrected himself. "This is all that I know, I'm sorry."

Before anyone else could say anything, Malarkey's voice rang in the air.

"Listen up!" he began. "I got some bad news. There is a patrol set for tonight. So far, Speirs wants McClung—"

"We know," McClung interrupted him.

"Yeah, we just fuckin' heard," Babe's Philly accent was getting thicker with each sentence. "Webster just fuckin' told us."

Before anything else could be said, the phone in the room rang. Malarkey answered the call. While he did that, Madison stared at the back of Webster's head. She bet he was pissed that Babe ratted him out. She couldn't help but feel bad for him, even if he had aggravated her earlier that day.

"The PX rations just came in," Malarkey informed the group as soon as he hung up. "Including winter shoe packs."

Madison laughed. "About time."

"Yeah, now we're in a nice warm house," Liebgott added.

"We're getting showers, too." Malarkey said.

"Amen!"

* * * * *

The men wanted her to stay in bed and rest up, but there was no way in hell that Madison was going to miss out on the chance of getting a shower. She hasn't had one in about three months. Her scalp was itchy. Her hair was greasy and there was dry blood in it. She was covered in complete filth with sweat, dirt, and blood. She just felt so grimy and filthy, and her hands...oh, her hands.

Every time she looked down at her hands, she saw the blood and dirt stained on her hands; caked under her fingernails. Every time she saw it, she felt and saw too much. She can still hear the Luger going off and Hoobler's cries. She can hear the shells go off and Skip and Alex yelling. She could see and feel the dirt blinding her vision. It was awful and she wanted no memory of it.

Madison was going to take a shower, god damn it.

There was a slight issue, however. She was the only woman in the area. If she went into the showers, she may see things she didn't want to and her comrades around her would see her. It had been drilled into her mind that no man should ever see her unless they were married.

Right now, however, Madison could care less. Floyd Talbert and someone else she couldn't think of had once accidentally walked in on her while she was showering what felt like an eternity ago, but in reality, it was only two years. That didn't change anything, although she was extremely embarrassed about it.

She stared into the opening and could already see some of the partial, if not completely, naked men. The water cleansing them. She was dying to go in.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Madison looked up towards Malarkey, who was staring straight ahead like she was just before.

"Yeah. I'm tired of looking and smelling like shit," Madison answered. Malarkey nodded, and he began to strip. Madison did too. When they were down to their underwear, they walked into the showers together.

The duo walked in, instantly becoming sprayed by the water. The two found a spot and for a moment, they just stood there, taking the feeling of the water in.

"God, this feels so good," Madison sighed in pleasure. It really did. She could feel the dirt wash away already. Immediately, she began to wash her hair, scrubbing her scalp. As she went to work with it, she could feel the grease, dandruff, dirt, and blood rinse away. Her hair no longer felt stiff and ratty. She sighed in pleasure—it was nice to finally wash and clean her hair.

All of a sudden, Madison and her thoughts froze. She looked down, and she remembered that she had not taken off her undergarments. She debated to herself for what seemed like a minute before she unclasped her bra, dropping it to the ground. She felt under her breasts.

Oh, yeah. There was a line of disgust (grime), and that's when Madison fully realized she needed to wash everywhere.

That's when Madison finally dropped her underwear. She was now completely nude and vulnerable but at the same time, she wasn't. She was around her friends—a good group of men and they would not let anything happen to her. They would do anything for her, and Madison would do anything for them.

After that, she went to work scrubbing the hell out of her body. She scrubbed so hard that her skin became raw and red, but Madison was sure that it would heal soon.

Madison waited to get out until Malarkey did, and for a while he just stood there. Madison said nothing and neither did Malarkey, who eventually snapped out of his sad trance and began to work on himself. After he was finished, the two exited the showers, drying off and getting their new clothes.

After they were fully dressed, Malarkey and Madison took a walk. It was quiet at first, until Malarkey brought up something.

"You left your bra in there."

Madison shrugged. "I have a spare one in the bottom of my bag. There's no way in hell I'm putting that one bag on. Especially if it's soaked, I'll make my sickness worse."

Malarkey nodded. They were quiet again until Malarkey let out just the slightest of a chuckle. For a moment, Madison thought the old Malarkey was peeking through.

"Remember when Sobel ransacked our barracks in Toccoa, and Luz read out your size?"

Madison gave a smile that indicated there was humor behind it. "I remember it."

"Well, if someone picks that up, they're gonna know what it is."

"I got bigger," Madison said. "So that bra is a little outdated."

"Sergeant Malarkey!" Lieutenant Jones called out. The two friends stopped and let the lieutenant catch up.

"Sergeant Malarkey. Sergeant Klein," Jones greeted them both.

"Hello, Lieutenant," Madison nodded to him, before looking up to Malarkey. "I think I'll take my leave."

"Go on, we'll catch up later. Get some rest," Malarkey ordered her.

"You too," she said, before looking at Lieutenant Jones. "I'll see you later, sir."

Madison walked into the building Luz was in. He was busy keeping inventory and separating the rations for each platoon. She saw Cobb and Martin, as well as one of the men who ran errands. Smith, Madison thought that was his name, but she couldn't remember.

Luz noticed her as soon as she walked in the room. "Hey, Maddie! Looking fresh and clean. How you doing? I heard you're under the weather."

"I'm feeling fine, thanks," Madison let out a smile. "I think that shower really helped."

"Have fun seeing everything?" Martin asked.

"Oh, can it, Scrounger," Madison retorted, taking a seat next to him. She looked towards Luz. "Have you heard about the patrol, Luz?"

"I was there in the room," Luz nodded. He noticed Madison was eyeing what he was counting. He could tell that she was wondering why Cobb and Martin were pestering him when she walked in.

"Those two are here because they're trying to get some Hershey Bars," Luz explained.

"Ah," Madison nodded. "Can't blame them, they're good."

And I was right to call Martin "Scrounger." That man can get his hands on anything, although Luz may win this round.

"Whoa, Hershey Bars!" Liebgott shouted in glee as he entered the room. Madison couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice. It also helped that he understood Madison's love for chocolate.

"Jesus Christ," Luz murmured.

"Who are they for?" Liebgott asked, taking the seat Martin had just vacated.

"Not for you," Luz replied. He was irked. Madison can't really remember a time where Luz was annoyed like this. Except for maybe when Perconte was complaining, but he was off in a hospital healing from his wound.

"There's not enough to go around!" Luz exclaimed, stashing the candy away.

He better find a good hiding spot for that, Madison thought.

"Captain Speirs here?" Lieutenant Jones asked.

"He's down by the river, sir," Luz answered.

"Hey, big mouth!" Everyone turned to the source of the voice and instantaneously everyone's faces brightened up. It was Frank Perconte, back in Easy. "Give the kid a Hershey Bar, huh?"

"You've