* heavy topics - reader discretion is advised *

" We will carry pieces of all those who have built and broken us."

- Atticus

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Hazel eventually left all her things near her bed for the day, and headed out into the town. Lizzie had showed her how to do a braid crown a while back, and she had took some time after the rest of the men had left to try and perfect it. She sat with the bobby pins that had been provided by Gene and carefully placed them into her hair, holding the braid crown together.

So when Hazel walked into the bright sunlight, she couldn't help but glance up towards the vast sky.

No stars until night fall.

She slowly continued forward again, heading towards the center of the square in search of some of her friends. Hazel slowly approached the group of men. Everyone seemed relaxed for the moment.

A few of the guys like Tab and Webster had brought out a game with a ball, while Skinny, Babe and Joe were all chatting in a circle. Chuck and Catherine were sharing a smoke, and a few others were just milling about working through a cigarette or enjoying a well-deserved nap. Hazel slowly headed over to Skinny, Babe and Joe, just narrowly avoiding getting pummeled by Webster who caught the ball Tab chucked at him.

" Hey," Hazel called as she approached them with a smile.

" Hey, Tiny." Babe said.

" Hey there, Tiny." Skinny said as he lit up a cigarette and placed it on his lip. Hazel smiled and walked up to Joe who was staring at her with an innocent smile on her face. She smiled up at him.

" It's called a braid crown if you're wondering." Hazel said with a tiny smile. Joe's eyes didn't move from hers.

" It looks nice." Joe said, his eyes admiring her brown hair brought up in all of the braid. Hazel glanced to Skinny and Babe who were looking between her and Joe. Hazel narrowed her eyes and they looked away.

" Lizzie taught me, her mom always did that hairstyle for her when she was younger." Hazel said with a smile up at them.

Joe was still looking at her with a dorky smile on his face.

But she just ignored him and his dorky smile.

Being best friends with the man had brought upon many of those moments before, she was sorta used to it.

Sorta.

But Hazel couldn't help but glance up at Joe slightly and just stare up into them, with slightly reddened cheeks. His hair looked fluffy, like you could just run your hands through it forever, and his little nose looked too cute that it just made you want to kiss it softly, and the way his OD top was opened slightly with a bit of the white t-shirt underneath showing made her heart pound a bit faster than it normally did.

She looked away again.

" Hey, Tiny, did you hear me?" Skinny asked her and she shot her head up to look at him.

" Huh?" she asked him, her face flushing further in embarrassment.

She had been checking the Joe Liebgott out.

In front of other people, in plain SIGHT!

What was wrong with her?

Maybe in this moment he just looked really good, like more handsome than usual?

She shoved her emotions down her throat.

" I asked you if you were excited to finally be moving through Germany. War must be close to an end soon if we simply rode over the border without parachuting in." Skinny said.

" Um, yeah, I guess," she answered with a slight shrug, " a bit weird, but hopefully we can go home soon." Hazel looked down at her shoes again before sighing to herself.

Why was she like this?

She droned out the conversation the 3 men were having, her mind elsewhere. Hazel was staring off, biting her lip again.

Just something about the entire town felt weird and off and she wasn't sure if anyone else felt that. Hazel looked over her shoulder and then to the sky. They were all just hanging around, they weren't really doing anything. And it was odd. Hazel looked at the sky again. It was just a weird presence she felt she had, standing there.

" You seen Foley?" Hazel suddenly heard and turned to see Frank Perconte, come sprinting into where Easy was currently stationed. Frank cursed, and then came running towards their group of 4.

" Hey guys, any of you guys see any of the officers?" Frank asked quietly.

" No." was the response, but Hazel was concerned.

" No, speak to Popeye, hey Pop." Skinny called.

" Frank, what's wrong?" Hazel called to him, but Frank was already hurrying away to talk to Popeye. The group watched Frank run from Popeye to Alton. Hazel watched him with worry filling her system. He had been on the patrol with the others like Bull, Lizzie, George and Christenson.

Where were they?

Hazel watched Frank go running towards the building nearby, just as Winters came marching out, looking around, looking calm. Hazel began to see Frank and Winters talking to each other, and worry dawn on Winters' face. Hazel looked back towards the trio she was with worriedly, before turning to them.

" Where's the rest of the patrol?" she asked them, crossing her arms, nervously, " Like Lizzie and Bull and George?" But they kept glancing towards where Winters and Frank were talking.

" I don't know." Babe said quietly, as Hazel bit her lip nervously. All the sudden, Catherine came up to the group.

" Grab your gear guys, patrol found something." she said, before sprinting away calling to others. Her voice sounded cold, hard and serious and it made Hazel's heart race faster.

Because she didn't know what was going on. She went with the group to where their things were and grabbed their weapons and helmets, before being loaded up quickly into trucks to follow behind the jeep which held Winters, Speirs, Nixon and Frank.

Hazel sat on the edge, her heart pounding in what she felt could've only been described as inside her throat. Joe was beside her. She slowly looked toward him under the brim of her helmet and met his eyes. Joe gently reached forward and grabbed her hand. She squeezed it gently, as Joe watched her.

As they continued down the pebble filled road, a strange scent began to overwhelm them. It was odd; it was like nothing Hazel had ever smelled before.

Hazel then began to notice a clearing appearing as the truck pulled closer.

And the clearing spread into grey skies and smoke and the smell even stronger.

But Hazel then began to see a fence appear, with wire, and old pieces of wood, and watch pots. And then she saw what she could only assume to be people, standing up against the wired fence, dressed in striped, dirty clothing. Hazel's heart was pounding inside her chest, as the trucks pulled around. Hazel's head moved, never leaving the sight in front of them.

When the truck finally pulled in Hazel was quick to jump off the truck and come around the corner of it to see what everyone else was seeing. Hazel's heart shattered.

What was this place?

Hazel slowly continued taking small steps forward, looking at the people inside, leaned up against the fencing that kept them there. She watched as Winters approached the fence slowly and cautiously looking at the people who Hazel could only think of as trapped. Hazel stepped forward and noticed Lizzie and Gene were now side by side and making their way over to Nixon.

The medics.

The people inside needed them.

Hazel noticed Speirs step forward, helmetless, and looking completely horror stricken as he stood there. Hazel stood off to the side watching as Winters stepped forward towards the gates that Perconte and Christenson opened.

The people inside looked so near to the hands of death, hanging onto the gates, looking at the people, the Americans outside, barely hanging on.

Then they opened the gates.

Hazel slowly stepped forward as the gates were opened and her mouth fell slightly as she saw that the camp went farther back, with smoke billowing from multiple areas and people, even more massive than the ones at the fence standing, and hobbling towards them.

They were trying to help each other to stand, to walk, to move, to get to the front gate where the Americans stood.

Winters began walking in. Hazel slowly walked forward, shouldering her weapon and removing her helmet. She met the eyes of the men in stripes that watched them on the side as they entered. They were filled with pain and emotions and strain. Some were shaking, others coughing, others looking at them with hope, with the look of thanking God.

Hazel felt hands against the fabric of her OD. She looked at what seemed to be a teenage boy, dressed in these striped clothes, his hands clinging onto her, knuckles white, as he looked at her. She watched him with saddened eyes, as she saw his rib cage underneath his unbuttoned striped top. Hazel felt her knees go weak for a moment, before another man stepped forward and touched her helmet and another on her shoulder.

" Liebgott!" she suddenly heard Winters yell and turned around quickly.

German.

They must speak German.

And Liebgott knew German.

Hazel looked back up at the 3 men that were almost in tears looking at her. She quickly grabbed the canteen on her waist and held it out to them. They stared at it with wide, confused eyes. She nodded to them.

" It's ok." she said softly, urging them to take even just a sip. The teenage boy was the one to grab the canteen and take a sip of the water. He nodded before passing it to the man beside him. And the man did the same for the 3rd man. She let them have the canteen after that, as they wandered away passing the canteen back and forth between the 3 of them. Hazel blew out her cheeks as she watched them walk away, forcing the tears in her eyes down again.

" Don't cry." she whispered to herself, " Don't cry." Hazel turned away, and put a hand to her face, shutting her eyes.

She had to take a minute as she stood there.

She blew out her cheeks again before turning back and looking at what she could only describe as a camp. She saw Speirs standing and staring painfully, as soldiers and prisoners moved around him. She had never seen him so still and so speechless, unable to comprehend what was going on.

They were so thin, and crippled, barely able to keep themselves up to walk like a human being should be able to. Others were hanging off a more able-bodied person, who dragged them closer to the entrance.

Hazel felt so upset inside, and so ungodly emotional.

There were stars on some of their striped clothes, patched on, with faded markings. But not all wore them, but the large majority did.

The stars looked like that of the Star of David.

As Hazel walked forward, she saw Shifty, standing and staring, with his weapon slack in his arms, his back to her. Hazel slowly stepped forward and stood beside him. She placed a gentle hand on his back, as he looked towards her with a strained expression.

" Hazel..." he whispered, but Hazel had no response. She could only look at his eyes and hope that he got the message that if she spoke, her voice would break. Hazel rubbed Shifty's shoulder as a way to comfort herself and him.

Each soldiers face remained horrified and saddened as they walked through, with large, sad eyes, and a feeling in their chest that no one could entirely comprehend.

Catherine was frozen, her feet cemented to the ground, like they couldn't move.

" Cath," a soft voice whispered. George. Catherine slowly shut her eyes and let her hand slowly grab his in hers. She was shaking.

Horribly.

But his hand was warm, inviting, gentle and kind, a soft human touch. Catherine forced her emotions down into her chest and slowly opened her eyes, before letting out a shaky breath.

She was okay.

That's what she told herself.

She wasn't in these people's situation.

That's what she told herself.

Hazel felt sick to her stomach. She had turned and started heading back towards the entrance to maybe grab a few blankets to just wrap some of these men up in, to stop them from shaking. Many were crying, some of the paratroopers holding some of the men in hugs as they cried.

Hazel could barely watch, she felt so saddened by it all.

But she was going to grab those blankets.

They deserved them.

As she slowly approached the entrance, she saw Joe, a serious expression drawn on his features, as a man in the striped clothes in front of him, talked in rapid German to him, with Christenson, Winters, Speirs and Nixon next to him. Hazel's pace slowed down as she approached and for a moment, her eyes met Joe's. She slowly approached next to Nixon, as the man speaking German spoke faster to Joe.

" Some of the prisoners tried to stop them." she heard Joe say, " Some of them were killed." The man talking to Joe spoke quickly and in a hushed voice, tripping over his words.

" They didn't have enough ammo for all the prisoners, so.." Joe stopped as the German man spoke again," they killed as many as they could..." Joe stopped again, listening to the man again, " before they left the camp." Hazel watched as the man held back a cry as he spoke. Hazel had to look away for a moment, as she shut her eyes.

" They locked the gates behind them and headed south." Joe said.

" Someone in town must have told them we were coming." Nixon said.

" Yeah, I think so." Joe said. Hazel looked back at the man, his lip quivered. She forced her eyes not to fill with tears as she watched Joe turn back to the man.

Hazel's heart hurt.

" Will you ask him, uh," Winters started, " ask him what kind of camp this is? Um, what, uh, why are they here?" Hazel looked to Joe, as he translated in German to the man in the striped clothes. Hazel watched him again, as the man forced himself to hold back a cry.

" He says it's a work camp for, uh, unerwunscht?" Joe said, the last word, the German word, one of confusion.

" I'm not sure what the words men, sir. Uh, unwanted, disliked maybe?" Joe said looking at them.

" Criminals?" Speirs asked. Joe shook his head quickly, looking back to the man who he translated from. No, anything but.

" I don't think criminals, sir." Joe said before he asked the man again a question in German.

" No." Joe said as the man answered his question.

" Doctors, musicians..." Joe started, " tailors, clerks, farmers, intellectuals, I mean, normal people." Joe said.

" Juden." the man said, as Hazel's breath stopped.

" Juden, Juden." the man repeated as suddenly Joe looked to him. Joe bit his lip.

" They're Jews." Joe said.

Joe's heart stopped, and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach, watching this man.

This man only understood Joe, each other. No one else understood the man except Joe. Joe felt himself breaking, but he told himself to hold, to hold those emotions in his stomach, inside his chest, that wanted to claw out like it were a lion.

Hazel's heart shattered, and she bit back her lip, watching Joe.

Joe was Jewish.

It felt like everything around them was crashing down and hitting them all at once.

" Poles and gypsies." Joe said, his voice quiet, as the man pointed, and Joe turned his head. Joe asked him another question.

Hazel was Polish.

She shut her eyes, when she began to hear the man crying, and turning and walking away. She hated the image she got in her head, she hated it.

" Liebgott?" Winters asked Joe.

" The women's camp is at the next railroad stop." Joe said. Hazel opened her eyes again and watched the man slowly wander away, his feet moving through the cobblestone and dirt, as he wailed cries of agony and pain.

Then her eyes found Joe's.

The horrid truth that ran through her mind was that this could've been Joe if he didn't live in the United States.

This could've been Hazel if she lived in Warsaw, Poland where her grandmother was from. This could've been them.

The man's cries pained Hazel as she stood there, watching Joe's eyes fill with such emotion and pain.

Joe watched the man walk away, letting out anguished cries that filled the outside area, raw and pained filled from the inside of his chest. Joe had seen himself in the eyes of that man. Tattered, skinnier than he already was, half dead it seemed, clothes hanging off his body, as his fingers could barely tremor at the sounds of nature.

Joe had seen himself.

He had then seen his father, then his sisters, then his brother and then his mother. He had seen each one of them, in that exact position, standing there, watching Joe, pleading for Joe, the American who spoke German, to help them.

Joe looked down, shutting his eyes, holding his emotions that were rawly spewing from his heart.

Winters couldn't speak or move either, as he stood, staring at the ground, his expression strained and unreadable. He couldn't say anything.

Hazel couldn't take it, she eventually stepped away, her mind spinning, tears threatening to fill her eyes and a heart as heavy as the world. She grabbed a few blankets, as much as she could grab in her arms before turning and walking back into the camp.

Right now these people needed care. Hazel didn't know what had happened to them, why they were here, what they were doing here.

Nothing.

But she wanted to make sure these moments, where they were with them, they could be provided an ounce of comfort.

Hazel slowly crouched down beside a man who was curled up on the ground. She placed a hand on his back as he looked up at her. He burst into tears. Hazel dropped the blankets as the man began grabbing onto Hazel and pulling her into a hug, sobbing into her neck. Hazel let him. Hazel crouched the ground on her knees, hugging the man close as he cried, as Hazel fought back her own tears that clogged her throat.

Hazel eventually got him calmed down with gentle words that she knew he didn't understand and a blanket wrapped around him before moving on, with a strained expression upon her face. She felt in so much emotional pain that she wasn't sure what she would do after this. What was she supposed to do?

That's when Hazel noticed Lizzie, walking around the camp, her calm aura radiating as she smiled gently at the men, and did quick medical checks on them, before helping them to their feet and commanding another paratrooper to walk them to the front.

Then she moved on.

Hazel thought Lizzie looked so strong doing what she was doing, some compassion and kindness even in a sad situation like this.

Lizzie didn't falter or tarry in the face of evil.

She stepped right into and straight up to its face, and offered a warm smile and a helping hand to get you to your feet, before making sure you were sent off with the correct medicinal instructions for your car.

Hazel watched Lizzie go about that, making sure men were cared for. But Gene looked the same way, moving around the camp, and doing the same justice that Lizzie offered as well.

The medics had to be the strongest people, Hazel thought.

They were so strong.

Catherine was moving around the camp as well, helmet off, hair pulled back in a low bun, offering blankets and water, with a frozen expression of grief on her face. Hazel felt for her. This was overwhelming, but they had to do something.

They were human beings too.

She was one of the ones that went to get food.

Catherine was more than upset she was overwhelmed with rage. She knew something was off about the town with the weird smell that bestowed upon it. So she took as much as she could from the angry German baker and was glad when Webster got in his face. He deserved it. And she knew Webster was just as upset as she was about this, anger a motivator.

When they arrived back with food it was a frenzy for any of the men to reach out and grab it. They'd been starved. They hadn't had food in what looked like years, at least a substantial amount. They reached for it, grabbing at any piece of meat, cheese or bread they could get their hands on.

Hazel watched from leaning against the truck, as they pleaded for food, hungrily moving over each other for each little bit or crumb they could scrounge.

Colonel Sink had showed up and was currently talking to Winters and Nixon right now as Joe hung back looking towards them curiously, but staying out of information with the higher ups.

Hazel looked back towards where the men in the striped clothes, hungrily reached out for feed. Hazel had eaten a K-ration that morning.

She thanked God in that moment for it.

She thanked him for filling her stomach with feed even the nastiest type in the middle of Bastogne.

She thanked God for all of it, because for these men, they hadn't had it in years.

Hazel looked over and watched as Winters and Nixon spoke to Joe about something. It was the worst pain Hazel had ever seen on Joe's face, spread across it right now. She watched Joe push through the crowd, helmetless moving towards the trucks, before pulling himself up and into it where he could stand and overlook the group. He started speaking in German, which got the attention of all the prisoners.

Hazel watched his eyes as he called over the group. He got the attention of the men in the striped clothes, as he spoke loudly, to make sure they all heard. He finished his sentence, which then sent panic throughout the men, as they started making noises and speaking rapidly, saying things louder and louder, as Joe tried to speak with his voice over top of them.

Hazel felt her heart drop at the pain on Joe's face.

His entire face expressed a pain only a few would understand.

His eyes were watery and glossy and his lips shook with her word and he looked like his guards were falling ever so slowly.

With each word her said, she saw him move closer to breaking, as barriers fell on his facial features, and his lip trembled slightly. His voice was quickly drowned out by the rest of the men, until Joe finally looked down. She watched with a broken heart, as Joe turned and slumped down into the bench on the back of the truck.

Hazel watched his face scrunch up, before his body gave a slight tremor - a cry. Hazel quickly pushed up from the truck's side and began pushing through the crowd of people, her eyes watching as Joe began to cry.

Something she thought in all her years of knowing him she'd never see. Hazel pushed to the edge of the truck, before pulling herself up and into the bed of the truck.

Hazel felt tears well at the sight as she sat down quickly next to Joe and pulled him into her arms. Joe's arms wrapped around her center, as she began hearing his cries. They were so innocent, like a boy crying.

But he was only a boy.

Hazel shut her eyes, as she pressed her lips into his hair. That's when her own tears spilled out of her eyes. She let out a cry, her strong facade she had tried to keep up for everyone breaking as the boy who was her best friend sobbed into her arms. Joe squeezed her tighter, as the two held each other, sobbing for too many different things, too many different emotions and too many different levels of pain all combined into one.

Before long, Joe had calmed down and so did Hazel, as he laid his head against the top of her chest, arms still tightly wrapped around her center, staring off, with red, bloodshot eyes. Hazel sat with her chin just above Joe's head, gently running her fingers through his hair to calm him down, as his breathing returned to normal. Her arms still held him close to her, as she softly looked down at him, a few stray tears leaking out.

Joe just pulled her closer.

He thought she smelled sweet, like vanilla.

And her arms around him were so comforting even in front of everyone that probably could see them. The other men that had been on the truck, eventually hopped down past them, leaving them alone, once they heard the cries that had left both their mouths.

Joe liked the way Hazel gently ran her fingers through his hair, it was comforting, and like how his mother had always done.

Hearing Joe's cries had made Hazel's heart hurt inside her chest so much.

He was always strong around everyone, with a hot-headed attitude, a smirk adorning his face, and cocky way of carrying himself. She would've never believed she'd seen him cry during the war.

But it was because of too many things. Many of the people in the camp were Jewish, just the same as Joe; he could've been in that camp, or his family could've been in that camp. He thought of Hazel though as well. Hazel was Polish, her grandmother had come from Poland, Warsaw to be exact, in the last 1880s. It could've been Hazel in those camps.

" Hey," a voice said. Joe quickly sat up from Hazel's chest, wiping his eyes, as Hazel turned, keeping a hand on his shoulder, not bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes that trailed down her cheeks.

It was Winters.

His face looked full of pain.

" How about you two head back." Winters said gently. Hazel looked at his eyes, which said more words that he probably could literally say.

" Try and get some rest and drink some water." Winters said softly. Hazel nodded, and she noticed Joe nod as well. Winters gave a forced half smile before patting the truck bed and turning away. Hazel stared at the spot where he had walked away from.

Hazel slowly turned back to look at Joe. Her eyes didn't hesitate to fill with tears as she looked at the tears that were on his face. Hazel bit back her trembling lip, as she shook her head. She tried to take a deep breath, to get the feeling of wanting to just sob her heart out away, but it only caused the feeling to amp up.

" It was only right that I cry in front of you, wasn't it?" Joe managed out, as his lip trembled. Hazel let out something between a laugh and a cry, as she clasped her hand over her mouth.

Joe pulled her back into the hug this time, musing his hand up into her hair, as she squeezed her eyes shut praying that she could stop crying, that Joe wasn't crying in her ear, that neither of them were in this painful position.

Eventually Joe pulled back and held her face in his hands, forcing her to look at his eyes. He gently pressed his forehead to hers, shutting his eyes and letting out a trembling breath as she did the same.

" We're okay." Joe whispered and Hazel nodded, trying to convince herself that as well.

The two sat softly like that as they felt themselves calming down, their hearts sinking into a gentle drumming sound.

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hello. this chapter was one of the hardest things for me to write just because this scene effected me so much. and my emotions ran rather high :( this is a very serious topic and i hope i treated it in the right light of how someone would react. thank you for reading <3