" Sometimes you don't realize you're actually drowning when you're trying to be everyone else's anchor."

- Unknown

✰✰✰

They built foxholes that remained around the outskirts of Carentan that night. Within the coming weeks, they didn't move much, maybe to smaller towns outside of Carentan, but Carentan was the main port where troops from Omaha and Utah could link up and head inland and also where supplies could be brought through. It was a process in the works. Each battle though that Easy was engaged in, became harder to recover from afterwards. The casualties were difficult to comprehend most of the time and most of the time the medics were the ones who dealt with that.

Hazel was sent on night patrols almost daily and she'd come back at 0200 and still see Gene, Lizzie, Spina, Pepping and Oates working and awake in the aid station. But what amazed Hazel was that Lizzie still managed to keep her personality as bubbly and as upbeat as she could and that's what kept those medics in there going, especially Gene, who's eyes became foreign and distant almost, and he grew black and almost glossy.

But Lizzie's promise to Lip had been a promise and she never broke promises. The two medics shared a foxhole all the time, so she always made sure that even if he got back first, she would slid in, make sure he ate and rank water and then finally would get some rest. Even if it were taking a toll on Lizzie, she felt it were more important to know everyone else was okay.

It must've been D-Day plus 20, and it felt like it were much longer. More watery coffee had been provided to the company in the early morning of the 27th. Lizzie had been up all night, even though she promised Gene she wouldn't be, and that was the first thing on her mind as she stumbled out of the makeshift aid station. She saw the station and she inhaled the scents of coffee, even the merest scent of it, and made way for it, walking right up to the station with wide eyes.

The Private behind the station poured her a cup and she gleefully took it and sipped down the wonderful drink. Maybe this would let on to the other 4 medics that she wasn't up all night. She slowly retreated back towards the aid station and when she stepped inside she found Gene was now in there, attempting to wake up it seemed.

" Hey, Gene." Lizzie called as she sipped the coffee and entered the room.

" Hey," he called over his shoulder, a yawn following.

" You want some coffee?" Lizzie asked him, stepping up to his side and offering the cup. Gene gave her a look.

" That's yours." he said. Lizzie scrunched her brow.

" Nah, you can have it." Lizzie said and placed it in front of him.

" I think I'll be ok without it." Gene said placing it back in front of her. Lizzie just smirked and took it back.

" Where were you last night?" Gene asked her, and she nearly felt the coffee shoot out of her nose, but instead she choked it down.

" Uh," Lizzie said, " I was doing rounds." Gene gave her a sheepish look.

" For 8 hours?"

" Yeah." she answered.

" C'mon, what were you really doing?" he asked her.

" Listen, I can't sleep anymore at night," Lizzie said shaking her head, " it's stupid." Gene gave her a look and then placed down the bandage.

" What do you mean?" Gene asked her. Lizzie glanced up at him.

" My brains on 24/7, I try to fall asleep, but I'm just crunching numbers for the next day. It's like I have adrenaline all the time in my system." she said, as she bit at her fingers. Gene gave her a look once she started doing that. She sighed and brought her hand down.

" I'm fine though, Gene, really," Lizzie said, " it's like my college days. I barely got any sleep then, who cares now?" Gene watched her.

" It's war, Lizzie." Gene said to her, " How're you functioning with no sleep?" Lizzie bit back her lip and stared him in the eye.

" I don't know," she said leaning back, " it's like my mind won't stop."

" I mean, Gene, I've always been like this you know? Stay up all night, not really be bothered, I'm not really tired. I just sorta move on with it, my brains just always awake." Lizzie said. But she watched Gene's eyes grow concerned.

" You feeling ok?" he asked her. Lizzie raised a brow.

" What? Yes, I feel fine." Lizzie said, as suddenly her mind filled with thoughts. Was she ok?

" Am I interrupting?" a voice asked and both medics turned to see that it was Lieutenant Winters.

" No, sir." Gene said, giving a glance to Lizzie who glanced back at him.

" Someone from patrol, they took a hit, not a bad one, but they need medical attention." Winters explained.

" Stay here," Gene said to Lizzie, " prepare the bed, and get out some bandages." Lizzie nodded. She was dutiful. Lizzie watched as Gene followed Winters out, but couldn't shake the face that seemed imprinted on Gene's features when she told him how she was feeling.

Was there something wrong with her?

As the days passed, Lizzie kept that feeling pounded down deep into her chest, and all the thoughts that swirled through her brain continued to remain relevant almost all the time. In the foxholes, Lizzie sat awake, next to Gene who was fast asleep, pleading with her brain to calm down with it to stop and let her rest. At most she got an hour or two and then would wake up and be staring at the stars. It was a horrible feeling that got worse each day. But when duty called, Lizzie ignored it and got to work, that was more important.

Hazel got night patrols and had it down to a full systemic process, and she managed sleep in the foxhole with Lieb easily afterwards. But recently, she couldn't deny it was beginning to become overwhelming and exhausting and she would skip breakfast for sleep. By D-Day plus 25, Hazel was out of it entirely. She was next to Shifty, her eyes half shut, breath slightly shallow, and her mind twisted. They'd sent her out on a single-man sniper patrol last night, for a rouge German that keep wandering over to their side. She had killed him, looted him and left his body near a tree, but it had taken 6 hours to do all that, and she had 0 to no sleep.

So there they were in the forests of France, hidden in the trees. Hazel was emotionless and exhausted. The last few patrols had taken their toll, an unnecessary one, and Hazel found herself in a rather dark place. She didn't even look to the stars anymore.

" Need to take a look at that farmhouse." Lieutenant Welsh called to the group of sitting soldiers behind him and Lieutenant Nixon. " Who wants to go?" No one moved. A silence fell over the group of soldiers sitting there. Everyone at this point was so exhausted and war-torn even after merely just a month of fighting, that the thought of searching a warehouse wore them all out. Hazel could barely keep her eyes open, she couldn't imagine having to search out something new after last night.

" I'll go." came a quiet voice and Hazel looked over to see it was Blithe poking his head up.

" Anybody else?" Welsh called. He seemed to pity Hazel, who looked more dead than alive, and Shifty who was making sure she was still crouched and not a ball on the floor.

" Martin, Dukeman, you just volunteered." Welsh called. " Hubba-hubba."

" I'll be lead." Blithe called.

" Blithe's lead scout, move out." Welsh said. Nixon and Welsh were talking quietly together in front of the soldiers, but Hazel's gaze remained unfocused. She was on her last leg it felt right now. Her muscles ached, her bones ached and her head ached. She felt numb. All the sudden one single shot fired out, and every man and woman in the group watched as Blithe fell to the ground, blood spurting from his neck.

" Here we go again, covering fire! Covering fire!" Welsh called to the men and Hazel. Hazel was barely able to move her body as she stood and adjusted herself near a tree. A branch hung low enough to stick the sniper on and it was short enough for her height to hold the sniper steady and attempt an aim for the sniper that had hit Blithe.

" Medical!" Welsh yelled as Martin and Dukeman managed to haul Blithe back.

" Top window right!" someone yelled as Hazel focused all her efforts there.

" Medic!" Martin yelled, " We need a medic down here!"

" Cease fire! Cease fire!" Welsh called. Hazel took one final shot and noticed the firing stopped from the right window. She didn't say anything though as she stopped firing her weapon and silently reloaded it.

" Move! Move! Coming through, give us room!" Gene yelled as he hurried past the group. Hazel watched with unfocused eyes as Gene and Lizzie ran forward to take care of Blithe. Hazel slowly moved forward and watched as Winters appeared a bit to her right.

" What happened?" Winters asked.

" Sniper." Nixon said as he looked towards Blithe.

" Did you take him out?" Winters asked. Welsh glanced back towards Hazel who stood a few feet behind them, exhaustedly.

" Parker did." Welsh said; he had heard her single fire shot, knowing she could've taken him out. Winters nodded.

" They're pulling us off the front line." Winters said and Hazel's ears perked up for a second.

" Now?" Nixon asked.

" To a field camp north of Utah Beach." Winters said, " Hot food. And showers. Then back to England." Nixon sighed and turned to walk away and Nixon followed. Easy was finally being moved off the line, and their Normandy Campaign was finally coming to a rocky close.

Hazel passed out in the truck bed on the way to the field camp. She curled up right at Liebgott's feet and curled into a ball and rightfully fell asleep with the rifle right next to her. Many of the men and women fell asleep on the ride to the field camp, but they could tell Hazel needed it the most. She hadn't slept in days and the 6 hour single man ambush last night had clearly taken a toll on her.

When the company arrived at the camp, they had showers set up everywhere, as well as a medic station, a large one, medic trucks everywhere, and a tent for food. Lizzie and Gene immediately moved to the aid station and removed their gear to help the other medics inside. The two were strong together, working as one, but everyone knew how exhausted they both were. Hazel had slumped off the truck and dragged her feet to the showers. She wasn't exactly sure if she was supposed to shower with the men or wait. She looked for showers in the back. Hazel found a tiny shower stall in the back, away from everything else with two pairs of ODs and a note on top, from Colonel Sink.

ODs for Elliot, E and Parker, H.

Hazel gratefully took her pair and stepped inside the shower. She slowly took off her old crusted ODs from her body. Her muscles were all cramped up or sore, there were bruises she didn't know she had in multiple different places, and blood came from tiny cuts all over her body. Dirt rolled off of her in levels, and so did the mud, and debris of Normandy.

When that cool water turned somewhat warm Hazel suddenly felt an onslaught of tears hit her. She hadn't showered in nearly a month, and she forgot the comfort it brought. She could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and mixing with the shower water and all the emotion she had bottled up for 20 days finally escape her.

Her cries were quiet, but Hazel had learned to do that.

Hazel wasn't sure how long she had cried, but by the end of it, she was taking in long gasping cries that left her throat soar and voice scratchy. She couldn't have protected Catherine, Lip or Tab, she couldn't have done a thing but they had gotten injured.

And Hazel blamed herself.

As Hazel shut off the water, she prayed that her eyes were red and puffy from the crying she did. So she took her time, pulling on the stiff, new ODs and wriggling around in them a bit so she could fit into them. She had to roll the pant legs and sleeves up a lot to fit her, and she had to pull the belt tightly around her hips, but she felt snug and secure in the new OD set. Her hair was drying in loose ringlets, which she noticed had grown longer, quickly, during their time in Normandy.

When Hazel stepped out the sun was already beginning to set, but her mood had turned slightly sour. Hazel found where old ODs were supposed to go and chuck them in before crossing her arms over her chest and heading towards the mess hall. There were men eating, men showering, men changing, men coming into the aid station, leaving the aid station, just arriving at the field camp. It was a sort of calm chaos.

Shifty was the person she managed to find in all the chaos and gave her the warmest hug she felt she'd had in weeks. It was comforting to know that even though, her mental state was faltering a bit she had friends there who would always be there. Her and Shifty ate together in the field outside the mess hall, as the day slowly turned to the night time, talking together quietly and relishing the warm breeze that hit them as the moon rose.

Hazel watched the stars just like she had her first night in Normandy, and admired their twinkle, even after they looked down on everything that had happened. She smiled. She would be okay, they all would.

Catherine had seen Tab, Lip, Smokey, and Blithe all come into the hospital in England. Popeye had been there when she arrived. Her heart broke as she watched each of the men arrive with injures that she couldn't even imagine how they had sustained them.

Shattered, was the term that had been speculated, a fracture was actually what had occurred; the placement of the fracture had caused the word shatter to be thrown around among the medics. She had been in a sling for 4 weeks, and she was on her last few days with it. The physical therapy had been helping, but she knew she might not have normal mobility for about 5 months. It sucked, but she was alive and she was healthy otherwise.

She enjoyed breakfast with Tab. She found out that he had been doing patrol with Hazel and had gone back to his foxhole and a new guy had mistook him for a Kraut and bayoneted him. He had a huge bandage on his chest, where the bayonet had narrowly missed his important organs. He sat up really straight since Catherine knew there was obviously a tone of pain in his chest, but she knew that didn't come in the way of food. He housed some much food, that she wasn't sure it was healthy to eat that much. Tab's explanation had been that they ate little to nothing out there and that the K-rations were only calories and not that much.

" How's Hazel? Did you talk to her at all?" Catherine asked him one morning. Tab glanced over at her and sighed.

" I did patrol with her and she seemed fine, we talked a lot, then Welsh came upon us, just things like that. She seemed fine. And she was doing real good with that rifle of hers. When I left her total was up to about 38 kills." Tab explained, as he scooped up some eggs.

" Really?" Catherine asked and Tab nodded.

" Few headshots, only missed a few with those bullets of hers, but she's good, real good." Tab said. Catherine smiled softly. She knew Hazel could do it.

" And Lizzie?" Catherine asked.

" Oh yeah, met up with her on D-Day, we then found Shifty, the 502nd and Smokey. It was a trip for sure." Tab said, laughing at the end.

" What?" Catherine asked.

" For a girl that doesn't reveal much about herself, she made everyone laugh." Tab said.

" That's Lizzie for ya." Catherine said with a smirk.

" How're you feeling?" Tab asked her. Catherine shrugged.

" Ok, the shoulder's slow at moving, but what else is new." Catherine said.

" I heard Gene dragged you half way across Normandy." Tab said.

" Oh yes he did. Without him, I probably would've never made it to the company." Catherine said, with a nod.

" They're good at the jobs, that's what I can give 'em." Tab said and Catherine grinned with a nod, thinking about the group of 6 beloved medics.

" Yeah they are." she said. Catherine smiled.

✰✰✰

hey! final chapter update today! this is where i feel you really start to see lizzie's character in the beginning of the chapter when she's talking to gene. i will talk more about why, specifically, she is that way, but you might already have some ideas, but it's something that usually wasn't widely talked about during the time.

thanks for reading as always!!