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Ron can’t help but smile to himself as the young girl offers her services in exchange for his help. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Even if Speirs had no intention of allowing her to take up arms, it was comforting in a way to know that she was capable of defending herself if need be.
“–Here,” The lieutenant gave a gentle tug of Natalia’s hand, directing her towards his foxhole. He releases his grasp, crouching just at the lip and removed the cover before dropping down into the hole. There were worse one’s he’d taken refuge in–one’s that had been half dug or even worse, contained human waste. All and all the snow didn’t seem so bad. “–yes, with me.” Speirs voice was calm, in attempt to reassure the girl as he offered her, his hand.
Crouching down, Natalia peered through the opening of the foxhole while Speirs crawled in. It was just like the foxholes she and her comrades slept in. Funny. Somehow she hadn’t thought Americans would do things the same way Russians did. Crawling in after him, using his hand to keep balanced, the other arm wrapped around her awkward middle.
“Is not so cold,” she reasoned, wrapping her arms around herself regardless. “I like this place.” Hunkering down to sit on a patch of frozen dirt, she looked around the tiny space with all the wonder of a blushing bride looking around her new home. His people would get her to America. She would make it and no one would find out. “The other men, they will not like me here?” she asked.
“No, but I suppose you’re rather use to it.” Speirs unfolds a weather worn blanket from his musette bag and drapes it across the young woman’s shoulders. It wasn’t much but it was all he had to offer her, until supplies reached them--but by then, she would’ve been handed off, finally off the front. Safe and sound.
As the man settled himself beside Natalia an un- easy breath escaped his lips. “--Can’t speak for them.” There came a light raise from the officer’s shoulders, a lazy shrug at best. “-if anything, they’ll be curious.” Then again could Ron blame them? The repercusions of keeping a woman in the midst of men--men that hadn’t seen the soft, supple flesh of a woman in months, was a risky gamble for the Lieutenant.
“What the hell happened to you?!”
“It’s not mine.” He motions towards the bloodsplattered stains across the front of his M42s. His fingertipsalready probing the inside of hisjacket for a Lucky.
Liesel sighed and crossed her arms,
“Are you sure that the blood isn’t your’s?”
Liesel rubbed her temples and looked at Speirs in the eyes,
“I’ll get you new clothes”
“Sure as ever, ma’am.” He places the Lucky between his lips, lights it and takes a drag before he exhales through his nostrils. Clearly satisfied with his fix he turns his gaze towards the nurse. “It’s not nec--” before he could even finish she had disappeared into the other room.
It ain't like the movies.
A battle hardened lieutenant perched himself on a crate of ammunition, taking a break from checking in the supplies from the earlier It had been two weeks since a truck had been able to make it’s way through the muddy terrain to their outpost. Along with the supplies, fresh faces were among the goods. Most of the men—if they could even been called that, looked nervous around those who had been their months already.
Speirs rests his elbow on his knee, eyeing the young privates as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. No matter how many drafted men they brought in, they were slaughtered in no time flat. The trick was not to get attached to anyone—build a wall and close yourself off. As an officer, Ron had taught himself well not to get personal with the new recruits. It was easier to know their rank than their first name. Hazel hues drift, searching each recruit as he continues to take drag after drag. They settle on Walter, sizing up the young trooper before smiling to himself. Already he could tell the private wasn’t like the others. He was too clean, too ‘nice’ looking to be some hillbilly-dropout, Southern boy. For once, there was a decent piece of eye candy around the camp. “—Got a name, soldier?” Ron holds the cigarette out as if offering the Hollywood boy a drag.
He raised a blue eyed gaze to the mans hand then flickered up to his face, only a little surprised by the way the man was leaning over him. He recognized him as a Lieutenant but didn’t feel the need to jump to attention. the mans posture wasn’t formal and his voice wasn’t one that demanded he move. But that voice had caught his attention by his heart. He eyed he cigarette again. Water didn’t smoke back home-not really as much as he should have—but where ever he went he seemed to smell it, and here he couldn’t get away from it. He was staring directly at a gift, that may not have been optional.
"Wayne, Walter Wayne. sir." He said casually reaching out to take a drag from the cigarette. He decided that if he played it off so casually no one would recognize the name, but he wasn’t about to blow off an officer. "And you, Sir?" You got a name?"
‘That’s Speirs, private dipshit!’ A fellow Airborne man yelled out towards Walter as a boisterous laugh erupted from the men. Even a few of the new recruits nervously chuckled as if they too understood. Ronald only fished out another cigarette and like time and time again, the men quieted around the outpost, making themselves busy once more.
“When I say name, I wanna hear ‘Private Wayne’, that clear?” He arched a brow at the rookie, bringing a lit match to the Lucky and inhaling. The seasoned lieutenant’s gaze never once left Walter, curious he was--and that was to say the very least. It was almost as if he had recognized the teens face, but from where?
“Lieutenant Speirs,” Ron began, finally releasing the poison from his lungs before sucking down another drag from the Lucky. “--you’re some big shot, aren’t you? Hollywood billboards, commercials maybe,--or do you actually know how to act?”
Made a Johnny Martin blog. sergeantofsass Please bug him. <3
“What the hell happened to you?!”
“It’s not mine.” He motions towards the bloodsplattered stains across the front of his M42s. His fingertipsalready probing the inside of hisjacket for a Lucky.
“ When’s the last time you slept? ”
“Few hours ago, sir.”
That couldn’t of been right. Thefact he was second guessing himself was a clear indication. “–Yesterday.”He muttered the correctionbehind a lit cigarette.
Basic Angst Starters
because sometimes what’s left to the imagination is much more terrifying.
“Are you feeling alright? You don’t look it.” “I just heard something… Something bad…” “Why didn’t you tell me about this?!” “What’s all this blood?!” “Will you tell me what the fuck is going on?” “Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!” “You should probably sit down for this.” “Please tell me you forgive me!” “I can’t live without you!” “Oh god, It was a mistake coming here… I’m sure of it.” “What the hell happened to you?!” “Where have you been?! I’ve been waiting for hours!” “You promised you wouldn’t do this anymore!” “I knew not to trust you!” “What’s that in your bag…? Is that–? Tell me it’s not!” “Is this what a dislocated shoulder feels like?!” “How could you do this to me?!” “Wake up! Wake up!!! You’re having a nightmare!” “I feel weird… what was in that drink…?” “I don’t want to leave you, but you’re not really giving me another option.” “Please… you’re scaring me…” “Ssh, I heard something again. How aren’t you hearing it? It was loud… and getting closer.” “Are you okay in there? You’ve been so quiet.” “I came as soon as I could! Did he/she get to you already?” “I don’t know whether I want to do this. I don’t know whether I CAN do this.” “Do you remember anything?” “You have to tell me who did this to you!” “No, no, I’m not alright. I’m definitely not alright.” “What’s your fucking problem?!” “Are you crying?” “You’re freaking me out! Please calm down!” “I’m leaving. And I’m not intending to come back.” “You… are dying?” “Did you drink the whole bottle while tripping? Seriously?” “Do you have a deathwish or something? Jesus!” “Ever been held at gunpoint? Want to know what it feels like?” “Stop screaming! Shh, calm down! You have to keep quiet!” “When’s the last time you slept?”.
30 Days Band of Brothers Challenge
Day 18 An Underrated Character: Sgt. John Martin played by Dexter Fletcher. I always found him calm and cool, but aggressive when needed to be. He had a great head on his shoulders and took charge when it was needed of him. I think he is the MOST underrated character in the series! He did so much but no body really talks about him… He was just as brave and heroic as everyone else! (I’m not saying the other guys didn’t do as much.) Plus, I love his gray lions main that he grew out!
-Compare-
I also love him because of his bitchface!
Just look at that! The best, most intense bitchface in the whole Company! x,D I find it humorous because in reality, Dexter Fletcher is a total sweetheart~
Most underrated character: Johnny Martin~
x
Carwood Lipton → Requested by Anonymous
How could anyone really hope to gain the respect of the toughest, most professional, most dedicated sons of bitches in the entire ETO?
walks in casual af after being gone so long
One chunk in the face. Another chunk almost took out his nuts.
Eugene always tried to be as gentle as he could, delicate fingers sliding over wounds with caution as he assessed how bad the damage actually was. But it surprised him how much Speirs reacted to his touch, eyes slamming shut, flesh wincing as the medic tried his best to clean the wound. Those mannerisms, however small, reminded the young medic that Speirs still was a man, not the invincible, unstoppable, unforgivable legend everyone perceived him to be.
"Good," Eugene nodded, hands running over the swollen flesh as his eyes inspected it closely. Glancing up at Speirs for a moment, he swallowed hard knowing what he had to next and as he pushed his thumb into the other man’s ankle as he looked for a fracture, he almost dreaded the reaction he was going to receive. Knowing the reputation that preceded the lieutenant, he half expected a bullet between the eyes.
"There aint any broken bones," he said after a moment, once the man had time to calm down, "but I am gonna need you to stay here for awhile as I try to get the swelling to go down a bit or else you ain’t gonna fit into your boot in a few hours."
His eyes moved up to the lieutenant once more, the nervousness welling up inside of him as the silence between them lingered. Every man in Easy was intimidated by Speirs, that much was certain, and Eugene was no different. He wanted to know more about the guy, he wanted to know why he had shot all those POW’s without a warning. But he wasn’t sure how even to bring it up or, if doing so, would be the last words he ever muttered.
Speirs inhaled sharply as the medic’s fingers probed into the tender flesh. It’s not the sort of pain that follows after being hit or even pinged with shrapnel--it was that throbbing ache, dull at times and sharper during others, that managed to catch his breath. More than ever now he wants a cigarette, two, maybe even three, whatever it took to alleviate the pain.
For a brief moment there is a look of relief that crossed the killer’s face, knowing that if he followed Doc’s orders he’d leave soon enough, returning to his men. He doesn’t disagree or even lift a brow at the other’s orders, only a simple nod in return as he reached for his smokes. “--You’re the Doc.” Ron gave a toothy grin as he placed the Lucky between his lips and pinching it in place. Despite his stubborn manner, he keeps calm--aloof even around the medic.
Once the Lucky is lit the lieutenant takes a long drag, holding it a moment longer until he exhaled through his nostrils and turned his gaze upon the Cajun once more. The silence is all too familiar for Ronald and the ever always watchful eyes from the privates, replacements and even NCOs who believed in the rumors that followed him. As if half expecting the killer to suddenly slay a whole company of Germans while hardly batting and eyelash. “It’s only natural to be curious, Eugene.” Speirs voice was low, much quieter than before when they spoke of his injury.