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Chapter 9: The Anatomy of Courage

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: this chapter has been in the works for a while, and a lot of research has gone into it! the scenes in Dulag Luft were heavily inspired by Frank Murphy's account of his experience there in his book, Luck of the Draw!! As always, thanks for being patient, and let us know what you think in the comments or our ask boxes!!💕

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 10k

September 20th: 07:20 AM

The roar of ME-109s and flack bursts echoed inside the Angel, producing a deafening cacophony of machine-gun fire and metal tearing into the C-47.

“There goes the last engine. We’re going down! We gotta bail out, girls. Grab your chutes now!” Frank yelled, the veins in the pilot’s arms bulging as he fought to keep the plane level. Hope remained frozen, staring at Billy’s lifeless body…he was only 21 years old.

“Hope?” Frank called out. “Hope, look at me! You’ve gotta go, get yourself and Ruth out, I’ll keep the old girl steady until you're both out, then I’ll be right behind ya.”

Hope shook her head, tears building in her eyes, “No! We’re in this together! I’m not leaving you, not now. Not after everything!”

“For Pete’s sake, Hope! Will you do as you’re told for once and stop being so damn stubborn!” Frank snapped with his eyes still trained ahead, and Hope noticed how the veins on his temples pulsed angrily, and his face grew redder by the second. “Now, please just go, I’ll be behind you, I promise!”

“Okay,” Hope nodded solemnly, climbing from the copilot's seat and hurrying towards Ruth, who was already shakily trying to put on her parachute. Hope helped her do up the straps and buckles before she did the same with Hope.

“I can't do this. I only jumped once in training. I-I can’t jump out of a plane. I’m a teacher, not a paratrooper. I-I…” Ruth continued to ramble, her panic-stricken features breaking Hope’s heart, and her tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Hope grasped hold of Ruth’s shoulders, pulling her shaking frame against her chest.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna be just fine, but we’ve got to do this. We can’t stay here, Rue. I need you to be strong for me now, okay? I need you to be strong for both of us,” Hope tried to encourage the girl towards the door but she froze, riveted to the plane.

“But Hope, we’re over Germany. The-the Kraut’s will get us and then… then I don’t know what they’ll do to us.” Ruth’s bottom lip began to tremble, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps.

Hope nodded solemnly, “I know we are, Rue, but this is our only option. I promise you that I will be with you every step of the way, no matter what, okay?” Hope squeezed Ruth’s hand and she returned the sentiment, allowing Hope to lead her towards the door.

Both girls hooked up to the static line, checking their equipment quickly. “Are you ready?”

Ruth nodded, swallowing the bile that threatened to creep up her throat as the plane shook violently beneath them.

“See you on the other side, Rue.”

“See you in a minute,” Ruth threw her arms around her friend, squeezing her tightly before stepping into the door, pausing for a moment before throwing herself out into the clouds.

As she fell through the air, her heart pounded against her chest with a ferocity that matched the roar of the wind rushing past her ears. Ruth’s static line unhooked, and just as her chute billowed into the sky, the roaring of a fighter and the sound of machine-gun fire filled her senses. She gasped as the rounds went directly around her, missing her body by just a few feet. Her chute, however, wasn’t as lucky. The white silk was littered with holes, and her descent accelerated rapidly, bringing her plummeting toward a nearby group of trees.

Ruth frantically tried to steer away from the forest, but the damaged chute was unresponsive. “No, no, no,” she cried, bracing for impact.

The treeline rushed up to meet her, and with a jolt, Ruth crashed into the dense canopy of trees, her chute becoming entangled in the branches. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through her body, and she cried out as she tumbled through the branches, her arms flailing desperately to break her fall. Twigs snapped, leaves rustled, and she felt the sharp sting of cuts and scrapes as she collided with the unforgiving branches.

Finally, The parachute ripped free with a sharp snap, and Ruth plummeted to the forest floor below. She landed hard with a thud, her left arm bearing the brunt of the impact, causing an excruciating jolt of pain to shoot through her, knocking the breath from her lungs. She gasped for air and clutched her injured arm, tears trickling down her cheeks as she struggled to push past the overwhelming pain. Every nerve in her body screamed at her as she lay sprawled amidst the tangled undergrowth.

Panic gripped the woman like a vice as she realized the gravity of her situation. She was alone, injured, and in German territory.

Where was Hope? Frank?

Did they make it?

Thoughts raced through her mind, each one more terrifying than the last.

What if I never find Hope or Frank?

What if I’m captured by the Germans?

What if I never make it home?

What if I never see John again?

Ruth’s struggled to push back the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She thought back on Johnny’s calming words the day they’d first been hit by flack…

“I need you to breathe.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he nodded at her with raised brows, worry etching his face. “With me, now.”

Ruth shook her head. “I-I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” the Major asserted firmly, reaching for her hand and holding it against his chest. “Feel that? Breathe with me. In…” he breathed through his nose. “And out…”

Taking slow, shallow breaths through her nose, she fought to regain control of her racing heart. She exhaled shakily and rolled onto her back, her gaze falling on the tangled mess of her parachute a few feet away. The once bright silk was littered with holes and large tears in the fabric.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “You can do this. You can do this.”

She sat up, gritting her teeth and scooting over to lean against a nearby tree, the rough bark pressing into her back. With a heavy sigh, she glanced down at the straps and clips of her harness still clinging to her body.

Her fingers trembled as she reached her right hand for the first clip across her chest, her injured arm protesting with each minuscule shift. Ruth managed to release the clip and moved her attention to the one connecting her leg straps. The right one came free easily, but she couldn’t quite reach the left clip over her bulky equipment.

“Come on, come on,” Ruth muttered under her breath as she struggled to reach the clip. Her small fingers brushed against the cool metal, but wasn’t enough to get it loose. She leaned her head against the tree and took a deep breath.

“Please.”

With one last effort, Ruth shifted and reached across her body for the latch. She felt the metal beneath her fingertips once again, but this time, she felt the button and pressed down on the release mechanism. It unlatched with a satisfying click as the clip came undone at last.

Ruth carefully slipped the harness from her shoulders before pushing herself to her feet. She needed to find Hope and Frank if any of them stood a chance of evading capture. Just as she set off, the hushed whisper of voices floated through the air, and Ruth’s heart dropped as she frantically searched for somewhere to hide. Her eyes caught sight of a nearby bush that was big enough and quickly took off for it. Just as she reached the cover, her foot caught on a root, sending her to the ground in a heap, branches crunching loudly beneath her. Pain shot up her arm as she collided with the dirt, and she bit down hard on her lip to stifle a cry. She pushed past the pain and scrambled completely behind the bush, covering her nose and mouth to quiet the sound of her pants.

Amidst the rustling leaves and her racing heartbeat, she heard it…the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked. Fear gripped her once again as she imagined the German soldiers closing in, coming to take her away, to do whatever they wanted with her.

Would Hope and Frank escape?

Would John ever know what happened to her?

Closing her eyes, she began to pray…

Lord, please protect Hope. Protect Frank. Keep them safe. Please give me the strength to endure whatever may come next if it’s Your will. And be with John, Lord. Watch over him. Amen.

The sound of footsteps drew closer and each crunch of leaves echoed like thunder in Ruth’s ears as she braced herself for the inevitable. She held her breath, waiting for the moment she’d be discovered.

But then a voice cut through the darkness, and Ruth’s heart skipped a beat. “Come out. Nice and slow.”

What German had a New Jersey accent?

She popped her head out from behind the bush with a small whimper, her eyes widening as Frank stood before her, his pistol pointed in her direction. He immediately lowered the weapon and Hope moved out from behind him, rushing toward the blonde.

“Ruth!” Hope gasped, falling beside her friend and throwing her arms around her neck, squeezing her close. “You’re okay.”

Relief filled her system seeing her best friend, and she hugged her back the best she could with her injured arm close to her chest. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, the pain moving to the back burner amid the pure joy she felt.

Hope’s hands fell instinctively to Ruth’s injured arm despite her friend’s small protest. She ran her fingers up and down the limb, noticing the swelling around the wrist and elbow joint. Rummaging in her musette bag, Hope pulled free some bandages, wrapping the affected limb tightly to provide some support and help reduce the swelling that was already growing along Ruth’s arm.

She sat back on her feet, scanning the area for the blonde’s parachute. Finding it a few feet away, she quickly grabbed it and pulled it over to the bush. She cut out a large triangle, folding it in half, and placing the injured limb inside the makeshift sling. She worked swiftly, and no words were exchanged between the three until Hope was finished.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Hope finally asked, tying the knot securely at the base of Ruth’s neck. She cupped her friend's cheek tenderly, and relief flooded through her as those bright blue eyes she’d grown to love so much blinked tearily back at her.

Ruth stood to her feet with a wince. “My chute got shot up and I-I hit the trees…fell on my arm,” she paused, her voice dropping to a pained whisper as the mere thought of the crash brought the pain crashing over her again. “Hope, I think…I think it’s broken.”

“Yeah, at least fractured,” Hope nodded with a concerned frown, wiping away some of the blood dripping from a cut on Ruth’s temple. “When we-”

Before the nurse could continue, Frank’s hand landed on her shoulder and his eyes scanned the forest around them. “I’m sorry, but we’ve gotta get going. The krauts are probably on their way as we speak.”

Hope quickly stashed the parachute behind the bush and took her place under Frank’s arm, allowing him to lean against her while Ruth watched with furrowed brows.

“What did you do?” she asked worriedly.

The pilot shot her a pained grin. “I’m alright,” he gritted as they started walking slowly. “Hope, we’ve gotta go faster. I don’t care about my ribs. Let’s go.”

Picking up the pace, they made their way through the small but hilly forest, eyes scanning the surrounding trees. Frank and Hope led the way and he held his pistol at the ready, nothing but the quiet sounds of their footsteps in the air. Ruth trailed right behind them, no less than an arm’s length away at all times. Her arm throbbed where it sat in the sling but she could only imagine the pain Frank was in. The nurses had seen a few grown men cry from the pain of a few broken ribs.

The sun sat high in the sky when they finally reached the forest’s edge, and more rolling hills and patches of forest stretched on in the distance, the only building in sight a small house in a clearing ahead. Hope panted from under Frank’s arm as the trio debated their next move.

“We can’t go out into the open. They’ll see us for sure,” Hope whispered, gesturing with her free hand for Ruth to come up beside them.

The blonde took a step forward, but when something cold and hard pressed against the back of her head, she froze. Her eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips just before a hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her back into a warm body. The pressure moved to the side of her head…she knew what it was, and her chest heaved as terror overtook her.

They couldn’t be captured.

How were they supposed to be POWs?

What would they do to them?

Following her gasp, Hope craned her head to look over her shoulder at the blonde, her face falling at the sight before her. She met Ruth’s terror-filled eyes, and helplessness coursed through her. She opened her mouth to speak but the German beat her to it, his heavily accented voice harsh and guttural.

“Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot,” the soldier commanded, his words cutting through the silence of the forest.

Ignoring the pain in his torso, Frank spun around with his gun raised. His grip on the pistol tightened for a moment as his jaw clenched. With a gruff sigh, he slowly lowered the weapon to the ground, his eyes never leaving the soldier who held Ruth against his chest.

“Drop it!”

Tossing the pistol to the forest floor, Frank raised his hands to the best of his ability and Hope did the same, unable to tear her gaze away from Ruth’s. Her eyes seemed to tell her friend, ‘It’s okay. Just look at me. You’re alright.’

Ruth couldn’t do anything but watch as three krauts passed her and began searching Frank and Hope. The one holding her finally removed his hand and holstered his pistol before turning her to face him. His grey eyes scanned her face in a way that made her skin crawl, and Ruth’s mind noted the contrast between his greys and John’s that brought her so much comfort…the ones she loved. Her hand shook as she raised her right to the side of her head, the injured one remaining immobile against her chest.

The soldier began to search her, his hands roaming over her body roughly. She closed her eyes and bit her lip to stifle a gasp as his fingers dug into her pockets, pulling out her belongings one by one. Ruth’s heart sank as she watched him confiscate John’s letter along with their picture.

It was all she had left of him.

It was then when the searching hands became invasive, his groping and grabbing fingers lingering in places they had no right to be. She clenched her eyes shut as disgust washed over her.

“That’s enough,” Frank’s voice rang out, his eyes blazing with anger. “She’s not armed.”

The hands paused and the man stepped back, seemingly satisfied with the search. Ruth’s shaky hands remained in the air while the kraut handed her effects to a man wearing a cap bearing the Nazi eagle.

‘An officer,’ she thought.

A shiver ran through Ruth as her eyes fell to the man’s upper arm. The bright red armband and swastika of the Nazi party stared back at her, and she felt as if she was looking the epitome of evil in the face.

She was.

All the death, all the destruction…it was all because of these people. All because of Adolf Hitler. If they were willing to do whatever it took to win the war, what would they be willing to do to them?

She was pulled from her worry when the officer said something in German and motioned to his men to bring the prisoners forward in a line.

One of them grasped Ruth’s good arm and pulled her to fall in line beside Hope, who sent her an scared glance. Two soldiers stood on either side of them with rifles drawn as the officer stood before the Americans, an unsettling smirk on his lips.

“For you, the war is over.”

The cool morning breeze whipping through the torn canvas walls of the truck sent goosebumps across Ruth’s body, and she tugged her flight jacket closer to her body. She sat between Frank and Hope, her good hand now securely in her best friend’s. No words had been exchanged between the crew since they’d climbed in, and with the piercing eyes of three soldiers sitting across the truck from them, their rifles sitting on their laps, the Americans were terrified.

Exhaustion wore on them, but they could not sleep or close their eyes as adrenaline still coursed through their veins. The Germans had forced them through the dense, mountainous forest for half a mile before reaching a winding road among one of the hills where a troop transport truck awaited them.

Hope’s body almost gave in as they climbed aboard the truck, her muscles aching after supporting Frank for so long. Ruth had tried to take her place multiple times but was waved off due to her injury. And that’s where they found themselves…in the back of the truck driving through the German countryside.

The landscape was beautiful. Ruins of old castles atop mountaintops, picturesque villages, and lush green forests filled with tall spruces and pines caught the women’s attention through the opening in the back of the truck. Frank could’ve cared less and stared straight ahead, trying to focus on breathing and pushing through the pain radiating from his ribs.

Before long, the truck rumbled to a stop and they all shared a worried glance when the officer appeared at the tailgate.

“Out.”

Ruth carefully hopped out first, holding her throbbing arm tight against her chest while Hope helped Frank down. Their eyes widened in awe as they were met with a scene straight out of a storybook. If it weren’t for the Nazis pushing them along the road and the rifles pointed at them, they could’ve been on vacation, sightseeing in the beautiful town before them.

The narrow cobblestone streets wound their way through a maze of old buildings, each one with intricate timber frames and colorful exteriors. Some even had window boxes overflowing with vibrant flowers, adding to the warmth and color of the village.

A rough voice broke them from their awestruck gaze, and the soldier behind Hope nudged her with his rifle. “Walk!”

As they marched through the town, bloodied and looking worse for wear, residents became aware of their presence and peered cautiously from the sides of the street. Shopkeepers paused in their tracks, their hands stilling in their work as they watched the prisoners pass. Hope and Ruth drew more than a few puzzled looks, and some townsfolk whispered among themselves with expressions mixed with confusion and concern.

"Frauen? Was machen die denn hier?" muttered a woman passing them on the road, her words carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. An elderly woman beside her shook her head, her wrinkled brow furrowed in disbelief.

The group continued through the village, and just ahead, a few children played in the street. A barely perceptible smile played on Ruth’s lips as the kids' laughter echoed off the buildings. It made her think of Billy, Sammy, and that day on the hardstand they showed her around the plane, asking millions of questions. Her eyes remained on the kids when they approached, but her smile quickly fell when the children turned to look at them with pure disdain on their features.

One of the boys’ small hands formed into the shape of a gun and he pointed it straight at them. There was no playfulness in his gesture, no hint of amusement. Instead, his eyes contained a disturbing intensity as he mimicked the actions he had likely seen performed countless times by soldiers and adults around him.

A chill ran up Ruth’s spine, her stomach churning as she watched the boy move his hand with them until they passed. She exchanged a glance with Hope and Frank, and they all recognized the chilling reality of the situation. This was not a child playing a game…this was a child who had been taught to see them as enemies, as symbols of everything that stood against the beliefs instilled in him by the governing regime.

Glancing around at the faces of the townspeople, Hope couldn’t help but wonder how many others harbored similar sentiments. How many of the German people would kill them on the spot simply for the country they served, for the freedom they were trying to protect?

“I wonder where they’re taking us,” Hope whispered to Ruth.

The blonde bit her lip, her worried eyes flicking around them. “I don’t kn-”

"Ruhig! No talking!" the guard behind Hope spat, shoving her forward roughly, making her and Frank lose their balance and fall to the cobblestone street. The Captain fought to contain a groan as his knees collided with the stones, sending a shockwave of pain through his torso.

Ruth immediately moved to help them, her hand reaching out instinctively only to be yanked back by a strong grip on the collar of her flight jacket. She stumbled backward with a small whimper as the movement jostled her arm. Her voice caught in her throat and the words she wanted to speak were trapped by the knot of fear that gripped her.

She knew that any defiance would only invite further punishment, and she couldn’t bear the thought of making their situation any worse. If the actions of the young boy taught her anything, it was that the Germans had no problems with taking care of prisoners without proper treatment. So with trembling limbs, she obeyed the soldier’s command, her worried gaze flicking anxiously between Hope and Frank as they struggled to their feet.

“Help me,” Hope pleaded, her dark eyes looking through tears at the soldiers who merely smirked. “HELP ME!”

Ruth’s eyes burned as she watched Hope pull Frank to his feet, mumbling soft apologies when he whined in protest and clutched his broken ribs.

“Move!” One of the soldiers shoved the barrel of his MP-40 into Hope’s back, prodding her harshly, “Schnell.”

Hope reached behind her, gripping Ruth’s hand tightly and giving it one squeeze before releasing the blonde’s shaky hand. The group moved forward in a single file line, careful as they stepped down the stone street. Their eyes glanced around at the German villagers watching them like hawks...one wrong move and the group knew that this town would be their final resting place.

The guards led them along the river, the water rushing passed loudly as it wound through the village. Ruth’s eyes were glued to the town’s beautiful scenery, and she knew that she might not see anything as beautiful for a long while. A few seconds later, her gaze moved to the left, and caught sight of a large white building with four figures on the wall, one proudly hoisting the Nazi flag. Ruth shivered involuntarily at the pure adoration the German people had for the regime.

‘Some of them must not agree…right?’ she thought.

“Move, bitch,” one of the soldiers sneered, pushing the barrel of his gun into Hope’s back once more. Her jaw tightened and she knew resisting wasn’t going to be good for any of them, but she couldn’t help the urge to slap that stupid smirk on his face. She turned on her heels just as Ruth caught her arm, sending her a pitiful look that instantly caused Hope to soften. She nodded once in a silent promise that she’d behave, despite the anger rising within her. Frank nudged his shoulder into Hope, encouraging her to keep moving. It was a team effort for them all to survive, each having to bite their tongue and remain calm for their friends.

All too soon, the trio were ushered into a large building just beside the train tracks, and they could only assume it was the station.

Ruth’s heart dropped…They were being transported by rail, which meant the Americans were being taken farther into Germany…probably much farther.

Large letters hung above the door, the dark wood in contrast with the off-white stone of the building.

SCHILTACH

‘So that’s where we are,’ Ruth thought. She’d never heard of the city, but its name and what she experienced there would surely haunt her for the rest of her life.

It was a rundown building with cracks streaking up the walls, and any recollection of its pre-war days had long been extinguished. The walk through the building was short, and the soldiers quickly filed them through a single door and out onto the platform where a cargo train was stationed. Several more German soldiers and officers lined the platform, two with Alsatian dogs on leashes that somehow looked even more menacing than their handlers.

The officer leading them to the station stepped away, talking in hushed tones to another officer before nodding to his men. Frank was the first to be pushed forward and moved towards a railroad car, the door sliding open with a loud clang. The train cars were old, their outer wooden slats rotten and falling easily from their frames. They hardly looked worthy of a people who thought of themselves as the “superior race.”

Frank glanced back at the girls and stepped inside, disappearing into the darkness. It occurred then to Ruth that this might be their last time together. What happens if they get split up into different rail cars or trains? The thought of being alone without Hope and Frank filled Ruth with more anxiety, and she subtly grasped Hope’s arm.

The soldier behind Hope chuckled, leaning close to her ear and whispering, “You go next, schlampe.” Her whole body tensed as she stepped forward, feeling Ruth’s grip on her arm disappear. She couldn’t see into the train car and stepped in blindly, fumbling around until her hands fell onto a warm chest that smelt like the all too familiar aftershave.

From the moment Hope disappeared into the rail car, Ruth began to pray.

‘Please let me stay with them, Lord. Please. I can’t do this without them.’

She stood there holding her breath as the seconds ticked by like hours, and just when she began to lose hope, a hand collided with her back and shoved her forward. The sudden movement jostled her arm as she blindly fumbled around the dark train car until her waving hand finally grasped something warm. Knowing it was Hope, she melted into the woman, tears once again filling her eyes when a strong arm wrapped around her.

“We’re gonna be alright,” Frank assured them, rubbing their arms gently.

For some reason, now that they were away from the prying eyes of the Germans, they felt safer. It was like they could breathe easily for a little while. The railcar door suddenly slammed shut, plunging them into darkness. It was then Ruth noticed the smell…the strong stench of stale urine mixed with sweat and vomit. The rancid odor burned her nostrils with every breath, and nausea swirled in her stomach at the thought of what had happened in the car before them.

Who were they?

Where were they taken?

Were they alive?

The floor was damp beneath their feet and she could only imagine what they were walking on.

It was best not to know.

The trio settled down in the corner of the train where a small beam of light pierced through the darkness, illuminating just a small amount of the cramped quarters. Sighing, Hope slipped down the wall, nestling between Ruth and Frank. They all looked far worse for wear than earlier, and Hope wished she still had her musette bag of supplies. Reluctantly, she peeled the blood fabric of her overalls away from her right knee, examining the deep, angry gash that ran across the joint. She hissed, pulling the fabric back down and meeting Ruth’s eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” she whispered, placing a comforting hand upon Ruth’s, smiling through gritted teeth.

Ruth’s eyes drifted back down to Hope’s knee, eyeing the growing crimson patch suspiciously. She’d known Hope long enough to know when she was lying, but knowing Hope, she wouldn’t admit how much pain she was truly in. Her blue eyes rose to Hope’s dark ones, “It looks pretty bad to me, Hope. I…”

“Hey, don’t worry about me, alright? Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.” Hope felt guilty, she knew she shouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep, but seeing how Ruth visibly relaxed a little made the lie worth it.

What good would it do to make her best friend more worried?

The train rumbled to life and slowly pulled away from the station, sending a domino of shakes and shudders down the railcar as it pulled out of the station. The rocking was oddly comforting, like how a baby likes to be rocked in its bassinet, and after the trauma of the day, they needed any ounce of comfort they could get. Ruth finally relaxed into Hope’s side, burying her head into the crook of her neck as Frank sat quietly on the other side clutching his ribs, his breathing quieter now. Wherever they were going, it was probably a long ride, and for a moment they took comfort in the solace.

They must have drifted asleep because the next thing Hope remembered was the large container door being swung open, flooding the train car with a bright white light. She squished herself back into Frank, who had his arm protectively around her shoulder, trying to bury her head from the blinding light. Four figures stumbled through the light, disappearing into the darkened end of the car before the door swung closed once more. Everyone in the car remained silent, only the noise of Frank’s heavy breathing could be heard.

“Is someone in here?” A rather posh English accent was emitted from the darkness. Nobody spoke, too afraid of what more people in the car meant for them. “Hello?”

“What do you want?” Frank spoke up, his voice gruff and hoarse from the dusty air within the train car.

“Nothing,” the man replied, “Other than to know where they’re sending us.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Hope replied, shuffling forward until Frank’s hand came across her chest, stopping her movements. She could see the whites of his eyes in the darkness looking at her sternly and beside him Ruth’s eyes stared wide and frightened.

“Is that a woman’s voice?” Another man asked, followed by a shuffling noise. It sounded as though the men were approaching them and Hope held her breath until her hand came into contact with a warm body.

“I’m Wing Commander Jones, this man to my right is Squadron Leader Colman. The two on my left are Flight Officers Carter and Williams. We’re with the RAF,” Jones spoke up, reaching his hand out for Hope to shake. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness and she could make out the rather battered features of the Wing Commander. He was a handsome fella, only in his late 20s with sandy blonde hair. The other three men looked no better off, all bloody and bruised.

“I’m First Lieutenant Hope Armstrong, I’m a U.S. Flight Nurse. This is my colleague Second Lieutenant Ruth Morgan and our pilot, Captain Frank Martin.”

The men all nodded in greeting, and Frank and Ruth greeted them in turn before the pilots took their seats on the rough wooden floor, huddling together like the trio had when they had first boarded.

The locomotive soon rumbled to life again, pulling away from the station with its wheels clattering loudly against the tracks. The wind whooshed past the engine, creating an eerie whistling noise between the railcars. The occupants remained silent, all too deep in their own thoughts to talk amongst themselves.

Ruth moved to rest her head against Hope’s chest, snuggling into her friend's flight jacket and enjoying the familiar smell of Hope. She felt safe, warm, and familiar…something that the blonde clung to as they rocked to and fro in the dark. Ruth’s heart rate slowed a little in the familiar embrace. She just wanted to sleep, the pain in her arm having ebbed to a dull ache for the time being. As long as she didn’t move the limb, it wasn’t too bad.

“You okay?” Hope whispered, pushing a few wisps of blonde hair from her friend's forehead. Ruth looked up at her, large blue eyes reflecting in the dim light. They looked tearful, and Hope drew her arm up around Ruth, pulling her against her body.

“It will be alright, Rue. You’ll see. We’ll be okay,” she mumbled, pressing her lips to Ruth’s forehead.

“You can’t promise that,” Ruth mumbled, snuggling her head further into Hope’s chest, hearing her heart beating strongly against her ear reminding her that they were still alive. “Are you scared?”

Hope nodded, letting a few tears slip silently down her cheeks, the image of her best friend looking so broken and forlorn hurt more than she could bear. “Course, I’m scared, Rue, but we’ve got to be strong. We’ve got to get back to John and Gale, remember? And Hugh too.”

A small smile spread across Ruth’s lips as Hope jokingly added her brother as an afterthought.

“If I remember rightly, I have a wedding to get to, and I need my maid of honor there with me,” Hope glanced down at Ruth, looking upon the mass of blonde curls that now lay in her lap. She wished she could be as scared as Ruth, and truly she was, but something in her made her stay strong. She couldn’t afford to give up hope yet.

Ruth rolled onto her side, looking up at her friend, a small smile playing on her lips, “I can’t wait for your wedding. You’re gonna look so beautiful, Hope.”

Ruth had to admit that she’d been a little more than excited about the prospect of a wedding. They had so little to look forward to in this darn war that it was the highlight of Ruth’s year, well maybe after meeting John, of course.

Hope smiled weakly, “Thanks, Rue. That’s why I need my best girl there beside me. I can’t do it all alone,” she shook her friends' shoulders playfully, careful to mind her injured arm.

“You won’t be alone, you’ll have Gale,” Ruth corrected her, “And we all know that you won’t be needing me after you're married. You two will be having too much fun,” Ruth smiled sadly, the reality of them splitting up hitting her more than she’d ever realized. They’d taken for granted every day they’d been able to spend together, and the thought of not seeing Hope’s smiling face daily made her heart ache a little more.

Noticing Hope’s strained expression, she piped up. “I don’t know if John would like the idea of me being your best girl instead of his.”

Hope chuckled, “Hey, I claimed you first. You’ll always be my best girl, Ruth.” She brushed her fingers softly over the older woman’s forehead, tracing the worry lines with her index finger. “Love you, Rue.”

Ruth wasn’t sure why Hope had suddenly turned so sentimental, normally she was the levelheaded one of the pair, the quick thinker, the reliable one, but now..

“Love you too, Hope,” she replied quietly, her eyes drawing closed as she slipped out of consciousness again as the rocking of the railcar sent her to sleep.

The red leaves of the maple trees danced in the wind as Ruth’s small feet pedaled down her street, waving to neighbors as she passed. Her training wheels wobbled beneath her, but it didn’t stop her from going just as fast as the other speeding by.

“Who you got tonight?” Jimmy Watson called from across the road, pausing from raking the hundreds of leaves from his yard. His lines on his elderly face always seemed to soften at the sight of the girl.

A wide, toothy grin grew on her face, and she slowed her pace. “You know who!”

“Nahhh, there’s no way they’ll win,” Jimmy laughed. “They’re on a 15 game losing-streak.”

Ruth pedaled faster with a shrug. “We’ll see! Talk to ya’ later!”

Just as she reached her driveway, a little boy came bursting through the door, his blonde curls bouncing as he ran towards her. “Ruth! They’re about to throw the first pitch! Come on!”

She quickly dismounted and leaned her bike against the garage door, following her brother into the house as their shoes squeaked on the floors. With a quick reminder of “no shoes in the house” from their mother, the siblings ran into the living room and cranked up the radio.

They lay on the rug beside the radio, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they listened to the game on the edge of their ‘seats.’ Jimmy was right…the Braves were on a 15-game losing streak, but Ruth had hope.

‘This is the one,’ she thought. ‘This is it.’

As the crackling voice of the announcer filled the room, the Morgans were bursting at the seams with anticipation. “Bobby Smith winds up…throws…and it’s a curve ball just dotting the corner of batter’s box for strike one!”

With an excited squeal, Ruth raised her hand to high-five James, but when she turned, he was gone. She glanced around the room with furrowed brows as static suddenly burst through the radio, the harsh sound making her jump.

What was going on?

She rose to her feet quickly and called out for her family. “Mama? Jamie? Daddy?”

“Ruth.”

Confusion clouded her mind as the scene around her began to shift, the walls of her childhood living room melting away like wax in a fire. The comforting warmth of the room was replaced by the dimly lit interior of a pub that she quickly recognized as the one in Dickleburgh. Blinking in surprise, Ruth tried to make sense of the sudden change, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked around, searching for anything to tell her what was going on.

And then, she saw him…John, sitting across from her with his signature grin plastered on his face.

When did she sit down at a table?

“You alright there, doll?” he asked, his voice cutting through the haze of her confusion.

Ruth glanced around the room, noticing for the first time the few people scattered across the pub. “Uh, yeah,” she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I must have been daydreaming.”

He raised an eyebrow mischievously. “About me?”

“Oh, shut it. You wish.”

“It was about me, wasn’t it.”

Was it? What was she even thinking of before?

“Maybe,” she replied anyway with a strained smile as she met his gase. “But, uh, don’t let it go to your head, hotshot.”

Before John responded, a subtle shift in his demeanor caught her attention. The playful gleam in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a look of concern that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Ruth,” he said, his voice suddenly serious as he reached across the table to take her hand in his. “You need to wake up.”

His words caused a surge of panic to grip her heart. Was she dreaming? Was any of this real?

“What do you mean?” she asked with a trembling voice.

Johnny leaned forward, his eyes searching hers intensely. “Listen to me, Ruth,” he said urgently, his voice low but firm. “You need to wake up. They’re coming…you need to be ready. I love you.”

With a gasp, Ruth jolted awake, her heart racing as the remnants of her dream faded into the reality of her situation. For a split second, she felt disoriented, unsure of where she was or what was happening around her. But then, the traincar shuddered to a halt and jolted them forward before slamming them back against the hard, wooden wall of the car. Her eyes widened in alarm as the door to the railcar was thrown open, flooding the dimly lit space with blinding daylight.

“OUT! OUT! OUT!”

Without hesitation, Ruth scrambled to her feet beside the rest of the prisoners, her muscles aching from the uncomfortable position she’d been sleeping in. The prisoners all jostled against each other to climb through the door, sending sharp pains through her arm. Hope hopped down first, turning to help Ruth, but she was pushed forward just as the blonde reached for her hand. Ruth watched in horror as a German wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away.

“No! Hope!” Ruth cried, trying desperately to push through the prisoners toward her friend, but the densely packed bodies were too tight. “Hope!”

As she was shoved with the flow of the crowd, Frank suddenly appeared beside her, his face screwed up in a pained expression. “Where is she?!”

“We got separated! A Kraut grabbed her! I-”

He instantly rose to his full height and looked over the dozens of heads surrounding them, his eyes scanning the faces of the scared prisoners. Frank then realized there were many more railcars behind theirs, adding even more panicked soldiers to the already busy platform.

Just when he was about to give up, he caught a flash of Hope’s long, dark hair, and his heart rose to his throat. But just as quickly as he saw her, she was gone.

“Hope!”

Ruth clutched Frank’s A-2 jacket tightly as tears trickled down her cheeks. A few moments later, the prisoners were forced into a single file line and led through the disgusting, run-down wartime lobby of Frankfurt’s main railway station. Groups of angry civilians lined the sides of the station, but to their relief, the people thenkfully restraining themselves from attacking. Both of them kept looking over their shoulder for any sign of Hope but were pulled from their search when a thick German accent filled the air. “You two!”

Stepping out of line, they stood in front of the German. He wore a different uniform than the other guards, the grey of the others replaced by a dark blue.

“You are with the Air Forces, yes?”

‘So he’s Luftwaffe.’ Ruth thought.

Frank nodded silently and Ruth tried to blink away her tears, but they wouldn’t stop.

Where was Hope?

Where was her best friend?

“You come with me.”

The duo shared a wary glance before slowly following him, two other guards behind them as they walked down a hallway, its dark green paint peeling and chipping with age. He led them through a door and to a transport truck much like the one they’d arrived to Schiltach in. As they slowly climbed aboard, the officer raised an eyebrow.

“There were three of you? Another woman, yes?”

Ruth nodded again while Frank dared to speak. “We were separated. One of your guys dragged her away.”

He seemed to briefly contemplate the Captain’s words, then wordlessly walked back into the station, leaving the prisoners under the supervision of two Luftwaffe soldiers too caught up in their conversation to worry about the Americans.

“Do you think he’s finding Hope?” Ruth asked quietly, quickly wiping the tears from her face. They stung the small cuts from her crash, but that was the least of her worries.

“I hope so.”

The pair were made aware of another prisoner’s presence as a cough from further into the truck filled the air. “How’d you end up becoming a POW, ma’am? Haven’t seen any women during my lovely tour through France and Germany.”

Turning towards him, Ruth’s eyes narrowed slightly as she scanned his face.

He looked so familiar.

The airman wore her same puzzled expression for a few moments until recognition dawned on him. “Wait…You’re Bucky’s girl, aren’t you? The flight nurse?”

She nodded, her hand flying to her mouth as she realized she’d seen him around Thorpe Abbotts.

He was in the Hundredth! He knew John and Buck!

“We’ve never been introduced, but the name’s Bob. Bob Wolff. I’m in…or was in the 418th with Egan. Best Squadron Commander I’ve ever had. Amazing leader.”

A teary smile grew on her lips. “He is, isn’t he?” she paused, her mind thinking of her beloved Major. “It’s nice to meet you, Bob. I’m Ruth, and this is our pilot, Frank. We don’t…we don't know where Hope is.”

“Hope? Cleven’s fiancée, Hope?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh boy,” Bob sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not in Thorpe Abbotts right now.”

Frank and Ruth shared a confused glance and looked back at the man. “What do you mean?”

“I have a feeling a few firecrackers are gonna go off until they get word you’re alive.”

“If they get word we’re alive,” Frank muttered under his breath.

If Ruth was being completely honest, she hadn’t thought of how John would take the news. It was no secret that Bucky Egan could be a hothead, aways the first one to volunteer to fight in the pubs when the RAF got under the Americans’ skin. But that was something as trivial as annoyance…how would he react to her going down?

The blonde knew how she’d react if their roles were reversed…she would crumble.

Would he revert to his old habits?

She prayed he wouldn’t.

Before she could speak, the loud opening of the station’s side door stole their attention. Relief washed over them at the sight of Hope emerging from the building. The Luftwaffe officer led her by the elbow, showing a surprising level of respect compared to the rough treatment they’d experienced earlier.

Wolff moved toward the back of the truck to sit across from them and extended a hand to Hope, who took it with a nod. Ruth shot to her feet the second she was on board and enveloped her into a tight embrace, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm at the movement.

“I-I tried to get to you,” Ruth whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Hope returned the hug, pulling back with tear-filled eyes. “It’s okay, Rue. I know.”

From beside them, Frank’s brows furrowed as he caught sight of something on her neck. He gently reached out and brushed aside Hope’s dark hair, revealing a series of finger-shaped bruises forming along her throat. Anger flared within the man at the sight, and his fists clenched at his sides.

“What happened?” Frank asked, his voice low and protective

“I fought against the kraut that grabbed me…he didn’t like that.”

Frank realized she didn’t really want to say anymore and gave her hand a tight squeeze. She reached up, rubbing the bruises on her neck and collar bone. The guards soon climbed on board, and the trio sat along the wooden benches as the truck rumbled to life, taking off down the road. Hope intertwined her hand with Ruth’s and offered a comforting squeeze while Frank stared daggers at the Luftwaffe airmen in the truck.

It was only around twenty minutes when the truck rolled to a stop in front of a multiple-building complex surrounded by barbed wire and guard posts. A large wooden sign with white lettering stood at the entrance, and they all stared at the words as if they could possibly decipher the sign’s meaning despite not speaking a word of the language.

The officer reappeared at the tailgate, gesturing his head to the side. “Get out.”

They all followed the orders and hopped out of the truck, their boots squelching in the mud beneath their feet. Each helping the person behind them down until the four were led into the camp. The barbed wire stood tall above them as they silently walked through the gate and into a nearby wooden building.

A few desks were scattered about, and the multiple windows allowed the bright sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark room. Without a word, they were directed to stand in a line, their backs against the wall. The ever-present knot of anxiety in Ruth’s stomach reared its ugly head and she felt nauseous…this was really happening.

One by one, they were called forward to be fingerprinted and photographed. Ruth was called first and felt a shiver go down her spine as the soldier roughly grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers onto the cold and inky pad, stamping it onto her processing form. She then moved further down the line to the photographer, whose face held the first semblance of sympathy she’d seen all day.

“Against the wall, please.”

Ruth obeyed and stood against the wall, forcing the corners of her lips to raise just slightly into a smile…or at least the best one she could muster. As the man raised the camera, her mind flashed back to the last time her picture was taken.

“Hey, Schwarz. Mind getting a picture of just the two of us?”

He nodded enthusiastically, adjusting the camera to focus on the couple. Bucky flashed a charming smile as he reached over and gently tugged Ruth from her chair into his lap.

“Hey!” she protested playfully, her cheeks flushing pink as John wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

Ruth giggled as Johnny leaned in, his cheek pressing against hers as they posed for the picture. Despite her initial protest, she found herself melting into his embrace. The photographer chuckled at their antics, capturing the moment with a few clicks of his camera. She glanced up at the Major just as Schwarz lowered his camera, and Bucky planted a soft kiss on her lips.

The table erupted into a chorus of whistles and hoots, their friends cheering them on as they kissed. Ruth laughed against John’s lips, feeling a rush of happiness and warmth enveloping her. Pulling back slightly, John gazed into her blue eyes, his own filled with pure adoration as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink.

The camera’s click pulled her from her thoughts, and she tried to blink away the memory.

“Go sit,” the German directed, pointing to the benches in the corner of the room.

As she sat down on the bench, her body ached. She needed to be in a safe place, a comfortable space to sleep soundly, but her hope for that dream lessened as every moment passed. With a quiet sigh, Ruth blinked away tears that filled her eyes and watched Frank, Hope, and Bob go through processing. One by one, they joined her on the bench, none of them brave enough to speak in the stifling atmosphere of the room.

Once they were all finished, they were escorted from the intake building to a much smaller one across a large, muddy courtyard. A wall of warmth hit them as they shuffled into the room, and Ruth’s stomach growled at the smell of food being cooked. She didn’t know what it was, but it made her realize they hadn’t eaten all day. When the call came for their run, Ruth had grabbed a few pieces of bacon and planned to grab an actual meal when they got back to base later.

That plan went up in smoke the second their plane did.

They walked further into the room and sat at one of the long tables set up, Hope found her mouth watering. The four Americans shared confused glances while waiting for someone to speak. They stared at the officer expectantly, but he just nodded at something behind him and moved to stand by the door.

The RAF men who were with them on the train soon appeared in the doorway and were ushered towards their table. They all shared confused looks until a door opened at the other end of the room and several weathered-looking men walked in. They were dressed in the Air Force blue that the RAF was known for, their hair a little longer and shaggier than the pilots they had arrived with. Many of them had beards or some other sort of facial hair and they looked tired, dark circles under most of their eyes.

One of the younger men set out a bowl in front of each of the people sat around the table. Hope glanced over at Ruth who shared her confused expression.

Were they going to feed them?

The other two prisoners pushed a stainless steel trolley with a large silver pot on top. They opened the lid, revealing a steaming, brown liquid that was quickly slopped into the bowls. Hope grimaced at the chunks floating in the watery, brown soup. She decided not to ask what it was made of.

“How long have you been here?” Wing Commander Jones asked the youngest prisoner, grabbing his arm to stop him as he retreated from the table.

“I don’t know,” the young man admitted, his pale blue eyes casting a quick glance over the table. “Welcome to Germany, Sir.”

“Welcome to hell, more like,” one of the older men serving the soup spoke quietly, gazing over at the two Luftwaffe officers who remained in the doorway. “Just keep your heads low and keep out of trouble until they move you on. You shouldn’t be at Dulag Luft too long.”

“Move us on?” Frank spoke up. “Where do they move us to?”

The man shrugged, his uniform slipping a little on his thin, boney shoulders. The girls shared a look…a silent question.

How long would they be here?

“No one knows. Dulag Luft is where they hold you until they decide where to send you for the rest of the war. Some are here a few days, others a few weeks. Depends how long it takes them to place you,” he remarked, securing the lid back on the now empty pot. “You’re lucky if you get one run by the Luftwaffe. I hear they treat prisoners better than the Wehrmacht.”

The three prisoners retreated back through the doors at the end of the hall, followed by one of the officers, and the group was left in silence. Those at the table all shared the same anxious look, and even the Wing Commander’s dark eyebrows pulled tightly together.

“We should eat up,” Squadron Leader Colman interrupted the silence, digging his little spoon into the soup. He swallowed the liquid quickly, and Ruth wondered whether that was a good or bad thing. Regardless, they all followed suit, eating the bland soup quickly. Hope relished at the feeling of the warm liquid slipping down her throat, soothing her nerves slightly. It didn’t taste good, but it was warm, and that was all she could ask for.

As soon as they finished eating, three Luftwaffe officers strolled into the room, their long boots tapping harshly against the wooden floor of the hut.

“Up. Up,” the first one ordered, pushing several RAF men out of their chairs before moving around to the Americans. They formed an orderly line but no one dared to speak. The German officer at the front spun on his heels, marching loudly up the hall to which everyone followed.

Hope glanced nervously behind her, catching Ruth’s wide eyes as she sent her a reassuring smile. The younger nurse kept her pace just behind Frank, ensuring she didn’t fall behind the other prisoners.

They were led out of the mess hut and past a courtyard into another long, wooden building resembling the others they’d seen. The air turned bitterly cold as the evening drew in, and a shiver ran through Ruth as she wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her freezing hands into her armpits.

The officer swung open a door and led the prisoners into the building connected to the one beside it by a narrow passage. As they followed him through the compound, Ruth’s stomach swirled with anxiety at the dozens of doors that lined the long hallway. She had a sinking feeling there were prisoners on the other side of each.

Just how many prisoners were there?

When the line came to a sudden stop, Ruth watched as a guard unlocked one of the doors, throwing it open with a loud creak. “In,” he commanded Wing Commander Jones who glanced back at his men before stepping inside, the door shutting quickly behind him.

They moved to the cell next door and repeated the same action with Squadron Leader Colman. It was then that reality hit Ruth, and she realized they were being split up. The anxiety within her turned to pure dread, and the nurse fought to keep the tears from welling in her eyes. Hope had always been there beside her, helping her when things were falling apart, but what would she do without her? What would happen to either of them if they were alone?

Hope came to the same conclusion, reaching cautiously behind her until Ruth grasped her hand silently. She squeezed the blonde’s hand reassuringly in a silent promise that everything would be okay, even if she didn’t believe that herself.

Staying calm only grew harder as the line of prisoners dwindled, and Frank sent the girls a pained smile just as a guard shoved him into a cell, closing the door with a bang.

Hope was next.

The guards moved to unlock a cell a few down from Frank’s, the wooden door swinging back with an eerie creak to reveal the dark room within. Ruth’s mind reeled as she watched Hope stare into the cell, unable to step forward. As much as she wanted to stay with her, she silently urged her to step inside, to go without a fight.

Resisting would do nothing but worsen their already terrible situation.

Before Hope worked up the courage to step forward, the guard shoved her into the cell, shutting the door behind her. Hopelessness washed over Ruth, and tears finally trickled down her cheeks as she heard her friend’s muffled and panicked cries through the thick door.

“No! RUTH!”

“Hope!!” She yelled back, her voice cracking while the guards moved her down the hall. “I’ll be okay!”

Ruth wiped her wet cheeks with her sleeve, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart, but nothing worked.

She was alone.

With every step farther from Hope and Frank, her hope dwindled, as well as her composure. They took a right down another identical hall, and the thud of Ruth’s boots were the only sound echoing through the long corridor. Just as with the other prisoners, the officer stopped, gesturing to the guard to unlock the cell. With an even louder shriek than Hope’s, the door swung open.

From where the light spilled into the dark room, Ruth saw a wooden cot and a chair pushed against the corner. She swallowed thickly and stepped forward into the cell, her nose wrinkling at its dank smell when the door slammed behind her. It took a few moments for her tear-filled eyes to adjust to the newfound darkness.

Ruth ran her hand along the wall until she reached the corner and carefully sank to the floor, the cold, rough walls pressing in on her from all sides. Alone in the darkness, fear gnawed at her insides, twisting and turning until she felt as though she might suffocate beneath its grip.

Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold block wall, her throbbing arm hugged to her chest. “Lord, please give me strength,” Ruth whispered, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Give us all the strength to make it through this. Please.”

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