“Quinn! Front and center!” I heard Sergeant Lane shout, interrupting our fireteam’s late breakfast. We’d actually had a decent night of uninterrupted sleep, finally. I stood up, cramming a biscuit in my mouth as I jogged over to the Sergeant.

“Quinn here, Sarge,” I stated, just after I swallowed the bread. Lane smiled weakly when I approached, his eyes as dark and tired as ever.

“I told you it was him,” I heard someone say, near Lane. I took a quick glance, only to find Richard Reiben, the US Ranger and movie character I had stuck with on D-Day. Beside him stood Sergeant Horvath and Vin Diesel. Or Private Caparzo, as he was called there.

“You’re Private Lee A. Quinn?” Sergeant Horvath asked, apparently sizing me up. “You speak French?” I nodded and replied that I did. “Good. Lane, you’ve got a guy that speaks German, right?”

“Right. Private Shane S. Maxley. I folded him into Corporal Norton’s fireteam- with Quinn. Norton’s guys are a tight-knit group, but it seems to me that Maxley fits in fine.” The blonde sergeant sighed and watched me with pity.

“Maxley’s a great guy,” I agreed, glancing back and forth between the two sergeants.

“Good. Your team’s size?” Horvath asked me.

“Six of us, Sergeant. Corporal Norton, medic Siskou, and Privates Quinn, Maxley, Porter and Michaels.” He ordered me to take him to them, so I did. They’d finished up their meal and cleaned up, the group standing around waiting for me to come back. I nodded subtly to Keith. The behemoth of a soldier that is Keith Norton sauntered over, introducing himself.

“Norton, you and your team are coming with us,” Horvath said, after returning the introduction. “An Airborne Private - Ryan, he’s called - lost his 3 brothers on D-Day. Command - and I mean the guys way at the top - wants us to get him home. We need a French-speaker and a German-speaker. Our two guys are dead, so we’re calling Quinn and Maxley up. The rest of you should come, too. Don’t want to split up a good team if we don’t have to,” Horvath muttered, looking Keith up and down. Keith quickly agreed, volunteering our whole team for the Mission. “We’re in business, then. I’ll go talk to the Captain. Reiben, Caparzo, stay with them.” They nodded, and off Horvath went.

“So, Quinn, how’ve you been?” Reiben asked, as Horvath merged with the crowd of soldiers wandering every which way.

“Normal, I guess. Whatever that means out here,” I sighed.

“That bad, eh?” Reiben frowned, as Caparzo introduced himself to the others. I just shrugged.

“Yeah… We lost one of our guys yesterday morning.” He nodded grimly at that. They’d probably lost a lot of men on and since D-Day as well.

“Which one’s Maxley, anyway?” Reiben asked, breaking the somber mood before it could really take hold, then glancing at the other three privates.

“Uh, that would be me,” Maxley spoke up, stepping forward and waving lightly. He seemed a bit nervous to be getting such an important mission. He was, after all, the only one of us who didn’t know it was coming. “Where are we going? Do we know where, uh, Ryan is?” He asked, confused.

“Some place called Neuville to start. The Airborne fucked up and we don’t know where anyone is. They’re scattered all over. For all we know, Ryan’s already dead,” Reiben said, rolling his eyes. He grunted and continued, “Probably is.”

“Damn,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Yeah, damn,” Reiben agreed. Maxley just sighed, deflating.

“He’s alive, Rich,” Caparzo said, patting Reiben’s shoulder. “And we’re getting him home.”

“If you say so,” Reiben replied, shaking his head. We hadn’t gotten much further in our discussions on the futility of the mission, when Horvath returned.

“You’re all in. Gather up your gear, you got fifteen minutes. We got plenty of ammo already, just grab whatever you need. That goes for you too, Reiben, Caparzo.” Sergeant Horvath ordered, glancing from Norton to Reiben. “We’ll be seeing you guys real soon. Let’s go.” Caparzo said goodbye and Reiben just waved, as they followed Horvath away.

“Maxley, Porter, gather weapons, ammo and food. The rest of you, with me,” Keith said, nodding subtly at Miles. So he’d assigned Miles to run interference on Maxley while the rest of us had a quick meeting, then. They nodded and ran off, to find the nearest quartermaster. “This is about the best we could have hoped for, Lee,” he continued, grinning. “Good job yesterday. Damn good job.”

“Right. So, now what?” I asked, as I packed my bag and donned my helmet. “This is a huge change to the plot, isn’t it? This is probably going to be a thirteen-man squad instead of eight, since they’re bringing us instead of Upham.”

“That’s true. Nothing we can do about that. Us surviving to the end is the most important thing, but we should try to keep the characters alive too. We’ll need all the fighting power we can get for the fight in Ramelle. Some of them are probably worth Points, too,” Keith added, a greedy smile spreading across his face.

“I think we’ll get plenty of Points on the way there, and even more during the battle. Think we’ll find another Side Mission?” Zach asked, looking down with his chin in his hand.

“I really don’t know. There is little if any real downtime for the rest of the movie. It’s mostly just walking and fighting for the next five days,” Keith replied, laughing dryly.

“Do you think they will know that I am not a man?” Cora asked, nervously. “I do not believe Maxley has noticed. But the others may be more… perceptive?”

“That’s a good point,” I agreed. “Just try not to talk much. If you have to speak, deepen your voice. We don’t have any precedent for this kind of situation.” I shook my head, at a bit of a loss. I didn’t know how important that would be. I wasn’t sure if the world’s rules were facilitated for us and, if they were, to what degree. No one had batted an eye towards my glasses, for example, but I hadn’t seen any other bespectacled soldiers the whole time we’d been in Normandy. I hadn’t seen any other female soldiers for that matter, so it was just unpredictable. “We’ll cover for you if anything happens. No matter what,” I said, looking directly at her. Zach agreed emphatically while Keith just shrugged.

“Thank you. All of you,” Cora said, smiling, before she looked down and slid her helmet a bit further down to cover her eyes. The smile stayed, though.

“This should be enough,” Miles said, as he returned, Maxley not far behind. “We picked up a new rifle for you, too, Lee.” They hadn’t found my M1 Garand by the châteaux when they carried me away, and Davey’s had been shot to pieces during the firefight, so the new one was welcome. Even though it wasn’t an infinite ammo version like my Colt M1911A1 or Keith’s BAR, I still prefered the rifle over the handgun. He handed me a dozen clips for the M1 Garand after I checked the rifle. I distributed several of the clips to the various pockets of my uniform, placing the last few in my bag. We were all packed up and ready to go, each of us carrying an extra bag of food and supplies.

“Norton! Gather your squad and fall in!” Sergeant Horvath ordered, as he returned yet again.

“You heard the Sergeant,” Keith said, urging us forward. We started forward, heading away from the beach. I sent Sergeant Lane a curt wave and he nodded once, both of us aware that we would probably never see each other again. Sergeant Horvath lead us to a jeep with a small trailer hooked up to the back, several of the Rangers from the movie already loaded in.

“I’m Captain Miller,” The Captain said, and he was the only one not yet in the vehicle. “Good to see you made it, Quinn. I never got to thank you for getting Lieutenant Briggs off the beach. They probably would have folded away my Company if he hadn’t made it. So, thanks for that.” He smiled, holding out his hand.

“Of course, Sir,” I replied, shaking his hand. I noticed even then that his hand was trembling, just a little bit. “I’m glad to work with you and your guys again, Captain. I probably wouldn’t have made it through the first day if it wasn’t for Reiben, actually. Michaels and I,” I continued, motioning towards Zach, were separated from everyone else from the moment we got off the boats. And he brought us up to you.” Reiben just grinned and gave a half-cocked salute from his place on the jeep. Caparzo tapped him on the chest and said something quietly, though he was a bit too far for me to make it out.

“I see. No wonder you were so eager to volunteer. Well, everyone load up. We’ll have time for the rest of the introductions on the road. You’re Norton, right?” Captain Miller raised his head, to look into the seven foot tall corporal’s eyes. “You’re in the back seat. Horvath, let’s go.”

“Yes, Sir,” Keith intonated. He climbed in next to medic Wade, as the rest of us loaded into the trailer. Sergeant Horvath took the wheel and got us going, after we quickly settled in. Just as we had predicted, Corporal Upham was absent, while the Rangers consisted of Privates Reiben, Caparzo, Jackson, and Mellish, along with Captain Miller, Sergeant Horvath and T-4 Wade.

While the rest of us had been under the impression that the characters in the movie walked from the beach to and beyond Neuville, Keith had revealed during our discussion the previous day that they had in fact started out with a jeep. The scene in which they lose the vehicle was ultimately cut out of the film, but there was still a brief flash of them moving out in the jeep in the movie. According to Keith, anyway. He couldn’t find the deleted scene anywhere, and his investigation into how they lost it was inconclusive. He had told us to stay on the lookout on the way to Neuville, though.

“What’ve y’all been up to out here?” Jackson, the sniper, asked us, as we finally left the beach. “After the first day, I mean.”

“Our platoon was just about wiped out on D-Day,” I started, my expression grim. “We got folded into a squad from our 1st Platoon and did a patrol the day after. Took out a few Germans holed up in a bunker. We… We had some losses there too. Some of the old guard from our new unit. After that it was just guard duty. Our first night out, though, we ran into a Resistance Captain, ran a quick rescue mission for his men and a handful of civilians.”

“That’s why you’re out here, right?” Mellish asked, joining in. “Command remembered that you spoke French?”

“Right,” I replied, nodding. “It must be.” I smiled weakly. “I can’t imagine they would have sent that Upham guy,” I said, laughing internally. Mellish asked who that was, so I elaborated a bit. “He’s one of Anderson’s translators. He makes maps too, I think. He took over for me when I gassed out; we’d been out fighting all night and talking all morning. He was real jumpy, afraid of his own shadow, that kind of guy.”

“Huh. Glad we got you guys instead of him. Sounds like he’d get himself killed on a mission like this,” Mellish laughed, Jackson and Reiben agreeing. I laughed too, but for a somewhat more morbid reason; Upham was one of the only men to actually survive to the end of the movie. We’d already agreed we absolutely wouldn’t let the whole gang die, this time.

“What about you guys?” Zach asked, next. “Scouting ahead and pushing up the front lines?”

“Something like that,” Reiben replied, as we went over a small bump in the road. The whole ride had been like that, actually.

“These roads suck,” Miles complained, sighing. He’d been quiet until then, just gazing into the distance. Thinking about home, probably.

We continued our casual conversation for the next hour or so, and I was beginning to think we’d been worrying for nothing. Maybe whatever took out their jeep in the movie had changed? Maybe we left earlier, or later, and whoever it was hadn’t arrived yet or had moved on already. Hell, I even considered that Captain Auclair’s presence could have bolstered communications and cooperation with the Resistance, somehow. The butterfly effect is entirely unpredictable, really. Unfortunately, we hadn’t changed anything about that road.

“Fuck!” Sergeant Horvath and Keith cried out at the same time, as an artillery shell blasted apart the road a few dozen feet in front of us.

“Get us off the road!” Miller ordered, Horvath veering the jeep off to the left. “Go around that impact crater!” Before Horvath could even respond, another shell landed, this one much closer to us. The blast pelted the vehicle with rocks, some of them tearing into it, while dirt rained onto us. “Everyone get out! Get out now!” Miller yelled, as the jeep slowed down.

“Let’s go!” I shouted, then grabbed my bags and then a couple more, before I dove off of the still-moving vehicle. I hit the ground hard on my left arm, rolling along for a few dozen feet, losing one of the extra bags I was holding against my chest, along with my helmet. I finally lost momentum and skidded to a stop in the grass, my whole body sore. I lay face down in the grass for a few seconds, before I tried to struggle to my feet.

My efforts were in vain, however, as another soldier skidded into me before I was on my feet, splaying both of us out on the ground again. I was on my back this time and I could see the jeep in the distance, now empty and veering way off the road. The vehicle, which had lost most of its velocity by that point, then took a direct hit from the third artillery blast. Or fourth, actually, as Reiben told me later; I hadn’t even noticed the third explosion while I was rolling across the field. The jeep blew up, then blew up again as most of our stockpile of grenades and ammo went off. The vehicle’s frame careened down the road, bullets spraying wildly from it for several seconds.

I finally managed to get up then, clutching at my left side; I’d never broken any ribs before that day, but I was sure that was what it felt like. I staggered over to check on whoever it was that had crashed into me. I had slung both of my bags over my back, while I dug through the extra one searching for bandages or whatever medical supplies it might have held. The sheer size of the man on the ground gave away his identity right away; it was Keith Norton, the only seven foot tall soldier in our squad.

“Hey, Keith, you alright?” I asked with a half-chuckle as I approached him. He was face down on the ground, and he didn’t get up even after I shook his shoulder a bit. “Keith? Wake up, dude.” I got nervous then; could someone so absurdly strong really get knocked out cold just from jumping out of a car? Even I got through the jump mostly intact, and we were out in the countryside; it’s not like we were bouncing down a highway. I tilted my head and tried to roll him over. It took a bit of work, but eventually I did get him on his back. I stared blankly at his face for a few seconds, before the horror set in.

I was fucking terrified by the sight.

“Wha… No fucking way…” I mumbled, blinking rapidly. I fell backwards, my hands falling the ground behind me, grasping at the grass and digging into the soil below.

Keith Norton’s neck had been snapped. He was dead. Absolutely, irrevocably dead. Whether it happened when he hit the ground or as he careened along the road I will never know, but his head was twisted at an impossible angle all the same. But that wasn’t even the worst part. Apparently Keith had skidded across the ground a lot longer than I had; the entire right side of his face had been rubbed raw, down to the bone in some places. The right eye was just gone, the rest of his face a broken, bloody mess. I just stared at him in shock, unable to truly process anything. How could Keith Fucking Norton go out like that?

“Hey Lee! Keith! You guys alright?!” I heard Zach call out, as he approached us, Cora and Miles not far behind. The latter walked with a bit of a limp, but they all seemed okay. “You guys are… Oh… Holy shit!” Zach and Cora just stared wide-eyed, while Miles turned around and fell to his knees before vomiting into the grass.

I shakily got to my knees and reached into Keith’s shirt. I yanked off his dog tag, tucking it into my inner chest pocket. Cora helped me clear out his pockets after that, the younger guys just staring in shock as our very own super soldier lay dead. Keith hadn’t been lying when he said the guns and potions were all he had; he really didn’t have much else. Just a few coins, a set of keys, a police badge, and a photograph. In the picture was a man who looked both older and smaller, but was still decidedly Keith Norton, in a police officer’s uniform, with his arms wrapped around a pretty blonde woman. Mrs. Norton, we assumed. I sighed and added all of it into Keith’s pack. I wasn’t willing to leave coins minted in the twenty-first century and a color photograph on a World War II battleground, even if it wasn’t our own world’s history. Cora’s grim expression was probably mirrored on my face as we looted our corporal, unwilling to waste any of his precious gear.

Cora equipped his infinite ammo Colt M1911A1, quickly attaching the holster to her belt. That left each of the four of us with one of the pistols, Zach having received Davey’s at some point during the previous day. I took his BAR, handing my own rifle off to Zach to carry for the time being. He took it, staring blankly at Keith’s body.

With the BAR slung over my shoulder, I rifled through Keith’s pack, mostly just finding preserved food and a few extra knives. The items I was really looking for were, of course, the two health potions that he had claimed to still have. I found two bundles, individually wrapped in about three layers of cloth each, way at the bottom of his pack. I unwrapped them and confirmed that he had two of the red elixirs remaining. I opened one of them up and took a swig, making sure to keep it under one dose. The bottle had four lines on the side, evidently measuring the doses.

“Anyone need some of this?” I asked, as my ribs, nose and left wrist began to heat up. I hadn’t even noticed the damage to my nose or wrist. The others nodded gratefully, so I passed the thing around. Miles finished it off after the others had their doses, citing a twisted ankle and several broken fingers. The empty bottle was then returned to me so I wrapped it back up and packed it into my bag, then repackaged the full bottle and handed it over to Cora. She placed the bundle in a first aid kit, then slung Keith’s bag over her back.

We all stood up then, looking at each other’s faces, grim determination settling in. Well, Miles looked more scared out of his mind, but the rest of us were determined, and grim. With no time to bury our departed leader, we finally lay his own blanket over him, leaving him there in the field as we headed off in search of Maxley and the Rangers.