" I'm not gifted but I'm not hopeless."

- Norman Spinard

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By that night, after Catherine had cleared up from the emotional breakdown of stress and grief, she had to head back into town after escorting the remaining Easy Company soldiers away for sleep that night. And she had to report to Dick in HQ. Catherine slowly stepped into where the offices were and removed her helmet from her head. She moved down the hallway and then stopped in a doorway seeing Dick working at his desk.

" Hey," she said as she entered the room, her footsteps soft, her voice broken. Dick slowly turned at the sound of her voice.

" Hey, Cath," he called, making a few more notes on his paper before turning to her.

" The men have been moved back, I know some of the medics are still out working at the moment, but the men have been led back." Catherine said.

" Good, thanks, Cath." Dick said before placing down his pencil, " Supposedly they found more of these camps. The Russians especially, one that was 9x the size of this one." Catherine watched him.

" The Krauts are responsible for this." she said, shaking her head before leaning up against he doorframe. Dick nodded.

" Jesus," she whispered, " well, I'm going to head back, make sure the rest of the men are getting their rest and check in with Lip."

" Good night, Cath," Dick called as she turned and headed down the hall towards where 2nd platoon was. She hurried up the staircase running into Lip along the way and the two talked quietly before she moved onto where 2nd platoon currently was being housed. Her feet were soft against the ground and then she finally came to the door and gently pushed it open. She was met by Chuck, a hand pressed to his lips in a quiet form.

Catherine watched his eyes, and slowly creaked the door open following Chuck's lead. Chuck pointed towards where the bathroom was and immediately Catherine saddened, her heart sagging inside her chest. Joe was lying curled against Hazel, who were both asleep, by the open toilet, the door open enough to see the soft light against the silhouette's of their bodies. Catherine bit back her lip and watched the two.

" When you came in they were like this?" Catherine asked softly. Chuck nodded.

" I think we should let them be," Catherine said softly. The group nodded, before Catherine gently walked forward and shut out the light in the bathroom.

" They both need to rest," Catherine whispered looking at the group. Everyone slowly nodded before falling into their nightly routines, changing and getting ready for a restless night of sleep.

Catherine retreated outside that night, for a 0100 cigarette, nothing which was out of the ordinary, but something to keep her wild feeling emotions at bay. She gently lit the cigarette in the night and placed it on her lip before blowing it out into the night air.

" Hey," a voice said and Catherine looked up to see it was Nixon. Catherine sighed and looked down, the cigarette playing in her fingers.

" Hi," Catherine said softly, eyes downcast. Nixon gently walked forward before sitting down beside Catherine in the night and taking out his own cigarette to place on his lips.

" Did you ever write those letters, Nix?" she asked quietly, glancing over towards him with sad eyes.

" No," Nix said, " not yet." Catherine watched him.

" But I did write one." Nixon said. Catherine looked at him.

" What do you mean?"

" Just now," he said nodding, " after I came back. By the name of Dorothy Freeman," Catherine watched him.

" And I thought of a certain Lieutenant," Nixon said, " one that really cares for the company, with the ability to lead virtually anyone, and a knack for making one helluva black coffee." Catherine watched him with tears in her eyes.

" So, I wrote, wrote for about an hour, making sure that the letter the Freemans received about their daughter was the one any Virago who lost their life would be worthy of receiving. They were apart of the most valiant, brave, courageous groups of women who fought for their right to fight alongside men, in one of the most elite groups of Operation Virago, who didn't care about those stupid social norms, they wanted to fight, be apart of something great, something better. And I wrote," Nixon stated, " a full page." Catherine watched him, biting back her lip.

" I wrote and I wrote," Nixon said, taking a puff of smoke, " more than I thought I could. She didn't deserve the death that was offered to her, but she had to take it, she died for her country. Even if it were in secret." Catherine shut her eyes. She nodded.

" I'm sorry, for being as abrupt as I was," she said quietly, " I was upset and I was still hurting, your one of my closest friends, Nix, I'm sorry." Nixon smiled at her.

" Life's a mess, Cath," he said and let out a soft sigh. She nodded as she looked at her cigarette.

" We're all upset, angry, we all want this thing to be over," Nixon said and she nodded. She flicked away the burnt out cigarette.

" Here," Nixon said and handed her the cigarette. She smiled softly.

" Thank you," she whispered and Nixon nodded, with a small smile. A little broken, a little torn, but they were still Easy Company.

" Hey," a voice said and the two officers looked up to see George Luz standing with an empty carton of cigarettes.

" George," she said sitting up and looking up towards him. George couldn't even smile, he just sat down beside her and let out a sigh. She then offered the cigarette in his direction. George met her eyes and managed a small smile. George took the cigarette and softly placed it on his lips before taking a drag and passing it back to her.

The 3 soldiers sat quietly on the steps that night, passing the cigarette through themselves, before Nix opened up a new carton and the rotation continued. Up until early morning when the moon was close to setting.

Hazel's eyes opened and she was met with a bleak darkness, but covered in warmth. Hazel shifted a bit and suddenly looked down a bit. Joe was wrapped around her, in her arms. And he was asleep, she could tell, his body was like a deadweight on her own body which was perched up against the sink cabinets. Hazel blinked herself awake a bit more, as she heard the quiet snores slowly leaving Joe's mouth, against her chest.

And suddenly all the memories came rushing back of yesterday and her heart shattered. Joe's face was forever ingrained in her brain, the one he had given her last night as his head came up from the toilet. Her fingers gently ran through his hair, as her heart rate slowed. She was calm, just sitting with him in her arms.

Joe had never broken like he had in front of her like that - she thought she'd never seen him break. But with yesterday's event, he had every right to be the way he was right now. She herself had been upset, but seeing Joe more upset made her maternal instincts kick in and her focus become solely on Joe and nothing else.

He deserved to be comforted like he was the most precious thing in this entire world.

She knew that by the look in his eyes, he had seen himself in that man who translated for Joe. She knew it effected Joe in so many ways. Hazel shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

Sitting here in the dark, with Joe Liebgott curled up like a child in her arms, fast asleep, with dried tears on his cheeks, was not where she envisioned herself last April.

She had been enjoying time without a war filled mind, without a war torn heart. She had simply been living without the thought of how the war effected the human mind.

And she had been wrong.

Wrong in every sense with how she thought it would effect her and other people. She never knew that her brain would change in ways she couldn't imagine.

The darkness of the room was comforting because she knew it meant Joe was sleeping, he was in a world where none of this existed, he was in his own world, a world that whatever he wanted to happen, happened in his mind. He was at peace for a moment in his sleep.

That's all Hazel wanted, for him to be at some sort of peace, for his poor little heart that had been shattered like a fragile, glass vase.

Hazel gently rested her cheek down against the top of his hair as shut her eyes as she held Joe so softly in her grasp. He deserved to be held, to be loved, to be looked at so gently, to be comforted, to be enough. For who he was. Hazel was awake for a little while longer, just letting Joe sleep - he deserved it. And she wanted him to sleep.

Joe had shifted himself awake as Hazel had been staring up towards some of the pictures that were around the bathroom. When Joe sat up from Hazel, he looked towards her, realizing she was there.

The two watched each other for a few moments in the darkness, their eyes the only fairly visible parts of themselves. Hazel watched his eyes which looked heartbroken within her own gaze. And she watched him come back to reality, the reality of the night before, the heart ache, the grief, the despair. His eyes welled with tears again and Hazel's heart broke further.

" Hey," she whispered, her lip trembling, as she watched him get upset, " I'm right here, we're right here." Joe sniffled and shut eyes as Hazel softly cupped his cheek. Joe lent into her soft touch, seemingly begging for simply touch.

" It's okay," she whispered, and gently brushed against his cheek. Joe hoped it would be, that it would all be okay.

Breakfast that morning was bitter in a sense, with everyone's moods turned more sour than a lemon. They were moving out at 1200, but that meant spending the rest of the morning in the stench of the what the German citizens had been ignorant too for the past few years. It was numbing to see what humans were capable of.

Joe sat idle beside Hazel, his food in the tin in front of him slowly growing colder and colder by the minute as he ignored it. He had told Hazel in a raspy voice that he still felt sick to his stomach, vile, disgusted, perturbed, utterly horrified. He felt if he ate he'd throw up again - he didn't want to do that. Hazel didn't push him.

" Hey you two." a voice said softly and both Joe and Hazel looked up weakly to see Lip gently sliding in across from them, two cups of coffee in his grasp. Hazel gave a bleak smile as Joe barely even registered that he was being spoken to, in a state of this dark wasteland almost. Hazel gently placed a hand on Joe's arm and gently squeezed it.

" Lip brought coffee." she whispered softly as Joe seemed to register her voice and looked up softly towards Lip. Lip gently secured the cup in Joe's shaky hands before pushing the other cup towards Hazel, who smiled softly.

" Thanks, Lip." she whispered, and then took a gleeful sip of the coffee, where she finally felt her heart warmer than it had been in days it felt.

" You doing okay?" Lip asked them and when Hazel met his eye, she knew Lip was just genuinely concerned for the both of them. Hazel hated to think it but Hitler was not fond of the Polish people either. She knew that when looking at the prisoners, one of those men could've been her grandfather, and the women could've been her mother, her grandmother, her. It could've been her, and that scared her. It scared her down to her core, her deep core and it hit a tiny spike and lodged her heart in her throat.

" We'll be okay," Hazel whispered and Lip watched her. He could see the pain in Hazel's eyes that reflected like that of the sun in sunglasses. Clear and bright as day, evidently evident. He watched Hazel glance towards Joe and her eyes only saddened more. And he watched her put down his cup and gently coax Joe into sipping coffee, to get something in his system, anything, just a bit of substance to hold his already queasy stomach.

And he managed some sips of coffee, before pushing the cup back across the wooden table and staring coldly at the table. Hazel glanced back at Lip who watched her. She gave the saddest smile he'd seen on a person, watching him with still hope filled eyes. She still had hope, so much of it. He admired her courage even in the times she faced.

Lizzie and Gene came back from the all night at the camps, but they had small smiles on their faces sharing a canteen of water between them, eyes gentle as they talked gently. The German citizens of Landsberg had to go to the camps by truck and see what they were so ignorant of for the past few years - they deserved it, to see what ignorance to human sacrifice did, what it truly looked like. It was horrid. Lizzie approached where Catherine stood passing a cigarette between her and George before glancing over at the two arriving medics.

" Hey, you two holding up alright?" Catherine asked.

" Best we can," Gene answered as Lizzie smiled softly. Gene glanced back towards where Lip sat with a quiet and closed off pair of Joe and Hazel.

" Those two alright?" Gene asked softly. The group of 4 glanced towards where the trio sat.

" They will be, they just need some time," Catherine said softly. Lizzie felt her heart sadden as she watched the two soldiers sitting side by side, utterly distraught. They had every right to be acting the way they were acting, the image presented to them of the horrible situation was disgusting to even witness, Lizzie would've reacted the same way, but she was a medic and had a duty to uphold, that of high regard. She had to remain built up mentally tough just for that time period.

By 1200, Easy was loaded into trucks and headed out towards Thalem. It was a weird feeling amongst the men on the trucks, as many were worried for Hazel and Joe, neither really spoke and the looks that came from them looked completely and utterly broken and torn to the bone. Their only support it seemed at the moment were each other, as no one else could even begin to understand what feeling grasped each of their hearts as they sat there.

The first night in Thalem was rough.

On many of the men, mostly everyone.

Arriving at a town in the late afternoon, previously bombed out, filled with a tense rage that was swarming and slithering around as if it were a snake. And that night was worse. Hazel slept in fits, her mind a complete and utter mess or words and images and voices and cries. She wished it could all stop. But she made a promise to herself, she needed to control her emotions, her emotions which she had thought she wouldn't put on display ever again. She was determined to keep them from exploding. And it seemed Joe mentally agreed to himself to do the exact same.

Hazel had retreated to a small perch that overlooked the bombed town of Thalem. Her back was flush against the cold concrete, and her knees were up bent as she looked forwards, eyes unfocused. She bit her lip, like she always did when anxious and picked at her nails. She wanted it to be over, to be able to stop going from bombed out city to bombed out city, seeing the terror war struck on each building, letting the remains be that of misplaced peoples and unwanted emotions.

It made Hazel sick.

So sick.

To even look at it.

Hazel sucked in a soft breath and let it out, as she wiped at the tear on her cheek. Landsberg would never leave her mind. She told herself she wouldn't allow it. It was a cruel place, but a memory she would have to accept as one.

Hazel watched a little bird flutter down into the bombed out window, slowly twittering to the ground in front of her feet. Hazel sniffled and looked away. Then the little bird twitter softly again, louder, persistent. Hazel softly glanced towards it again and watched it. The birds head twitched to the side, as it hopped on both of its little feet, before quirking its head to the opposite side, watching her. Hazel sniffled and slowly leaned forward as the little bird bounced backwards. Hazel's hand retracted gently, pulling back hesitantly as she watched the bird slowly bounce forward again, watching her.

" Hi," Hazel whispered, and looked at it. The bird chirped a soft chirp. Hazel bit back her lip and offered a finger forward. The bird bounced back a few steps before slowly easing a few hesitant steps forward. Hazel smiled slightly.

" You're probably thinking what a strange creature?" Hazel whispered as the bird's head cocked at the sound of the voice. The bird chirped. Hazel smiled softly, biting back the light giggle. The bird chirped, another hesitant step forward towards her outstretched finger.

" We're all strange little creatures aren't we?" Hazel said softly as the bird hesitantly jumped back again from her finger, uneasily watching her. Hazel smiled and titled her head to the side as the bird took a soft bounce closer.

" It's okay, we're the same you and me," Hazel whispered, " fearful of what might happens if we trust someone." The bird watched her and gently chirped again.

" It's okay, I'd be scared to." Hazel said softly. The bird watched her, as if it understood. Of course it probably didn't, he was a little bird. But you never knew.

" I hope you never had to witness this cruel world." Hazel whispered and then glanced at the sky where the stars would normally make their routine appearance, " The stars see it all." Hazel glanced back at the bird and gently reached a shaky finger forward. The bird only jumped back a bit this time, eyes watching her finger's every move.

Then the little bird, took a few hops forward, before hopping upon her finger. Hazel watched the bird, not moving a muscle. The bird chirped out a sweet song as Hazel slowly lifted her finger up from the ground, the bird chirping, perched on her lightly.

" How did you trust me that fast?' she whispered. The bird seemed to wink at her, chirping out a tune like Beethoven's it seemed, gentle and cheerful.

Maybe she wasn't a hopeless little birdie after all.

During the following months, Allied Forces, discovered numerous POW, concentration and death camps. These camps were part of the Nazi attempt to effect the 'Final Solution' to the 'Jewish Question'.

Between 1942 and 1945 five million ethnic minorities and six million Jews were murdered - many of them in the camps.

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hello, thank you all for reading :) i'm glad we have worked through episode 9, because for me it was very sad to write and by episode 10 there are some things to look up to which i am very happy about :) maybe two or three chapters after this of joy so get ready!! <3