Work Text:
Title: The Bitter Chill of Winter: A Christmas in Bastogne
Author: Zach/pairatime/WritenWright
Word Count: 972
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Characters/Pairings: Winters and Nixon
Summary: It’s Christmas day in Bastogne
Author's Notes:
Hello,
Merry Christmas, I’m posting this on the day before Christmas Eve so consider this my gift to the world of Fanfic so I hope you like this story and review.
Now I don’t own Band of Brothers, Dreamworks, Playtone, HBO, and other do. And the people own them selves, as the people are real. That made it weird writing this, knowing that these events happened, really weird. Please review and let me know what you think. Now to the story.
The Bitter Chill of Winter:
A Christmas in Bastogne
by WritenWright
It was softly snowing, or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just the snow falling off the pine trees above, he couldn’t tell. It didn’t really matter anyways, it was Christmas and his men were getting hot food, and real food at that. It may only be beans and broth but after what they’d been eating for the last few weeks it was a true Christmas feast.
It was good to see the men having fun, moving around in the snow, not worrying about getting shot at, even if only for one day, it was one day at least, for one day…tomorrow is…another day.
As he looked most of the enlisted men had gotten their meal and the officers were getting up to enter the line. Compton was following Winters’ example and having all the other lieutenant go before him. They were going through the line fasted than the enlisted men, but then there was far less of them.
That’s when he notices that Compton was not just the last lieutenant in line but the last officer period. Where was Dike and Nixon, both had gone earlier, one to division and the other to regiment, but they should have both been back before now. Dike should never have gone to begin with. His place was with his men, not in Bastogne. Just one more reason he shouldn’t have been here at all. And Nix never took this long to clarify Strayer orders before, what was taking him so long.
Winters watched as Compton got his soup and joined the other men from his platoon. He was too friendly with his men Winters thought disapprovingly. Winters just watched as Compton joked with Guarnere, Toye, and Malarkey and he shook his head.
Winters made his way over to the now empty line, “Hello Joe, you’ve been doing your best to get hot food to the men and that’s very much appreciated,” he thanked the man. Several times Joe had come down after nightfall with food that wasn’t always the warmest, but he had tried and for that Winters way grateful. It had helped the men’s morale a little at a time when they really needed it.
Winters didn’t understand the sad attempt of a smile that Joe tried to put on instead of his normal cheerful one till he got close enough to the pot to see that it was all but empty. Winters kept his smile on his face despite his change in mood, the men got hot food; Winters kept that thought going through his mind as he fished out his tin.
Joe slowly scooped out the last of the soup into the Captain’s tin. It was just over half a cup of broth and six beans. Some Christmas feast Winters thought. Winters kept his smile on his face till after Joe had packed up his gear and left for regiment. After seeing the man off Winters made his own way to the foxhole that he shared with Nixon.
Once there he pulled the tarp over his foxhole covering it and then pulled his blanket around him and slowly ate his ‘feast’ trying to keep the knowledge that the men had a hot meal of real food in the forefront of his mind.
The snow crunched beneath his feet as he made his way back to Winters’ and his foxhole. His meeting with Sink had taken longer than he’d thought it would, but hey, he’d gotten some food out of the deal and after what’s he had learned he was glad that he had.
Nixon pulled back the foxhole’s tarp and dropped into the pit next to Winters, “Merry Christmas Dick.”
“Merry Christmas,” came Winters gruff and less than sincere reply.
“I thought I was the scrooge here.”
“Just ignore me Nix,” Winters told Nixon as he just pulled his blanket tighter around him.
“So…not having a good day I take it,” Nixon asked as he took a swig from his flask.
“The men got a hot meal and aren’t being shot at, of course it’s a good day,” stated Winters matter of factly.
“Ah…but did you,” Nixon asked pointedly.
“The men-” Winters started to say agian when Nixon cut him off.
“That’s what I thought Dick,” Nix said as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a large roll of bread with bits of meat and cheese sticking out, “Merry Christmas,” he added as he threw it at Winters.
The Captain caught the roll more out of reflexes than really trying as he looked at it, “it’s a sandwich,” he said surprised, “and is that real cheese,” he tore off a piece of meat, “and that real uncanned meat…how the hell did you get this. Even your not that good at scrounging,” Winters said stunned.
“Call it a Christmas miracle,” Nixon said grinning at Winters’s shock and surprise.
“I can’t eat this, here,” Winters told Nixon as he tried to give the roll back to the man.
Nixon just shook his head and raised his flask, “I have something better,” he emphasize his point by taking a long pull on his flask.
Winters looked at his roll and smiled, “Thanks Lew…Merry Christmas” Winter raised his roll as a toast.
Nixon saw the all to rare smile and raised his flask of Vat 69 grinning, “Cheers,” he added as he drank it and saw Winters taking a bite of his roll. Nixon just grinned, it was a Merry Christmas indeed, a Merry Christmas in Bastogne.
The End