Chapter 3: Conflict
Easy Company's resentment toward Lieutenant Herbert Sobel didn't stem from his rigorous training, but from his volatile and acerbic personality. For Lieutenant Sobel, training his company to be the best in the 506th Regiment was a matter of immense personal glory, something that would make him stand out at headquarters.
"Luz, don't expect me to bring you back one of Lake's pin-ups tonight. I probably won't be coming back to the barracks at all," White said with a sly grin, one foot propped on a chair as he buffed his already gleaming jump boots. He wore a crisp dress shirt and a fashionable tie, smirking at Luz's long face.
"Lake?" The name was obviously unfamiliar to Rhys. After all, he had just been reborn from 21st-century. "Is she a movie star? What movies has she been in? Maybe we can go see a film in town tonight."
"Whoa!" A few whistles echoed through the barracks.
"Don't tell me you don't even know who Veronica Lake is!" Luz's spirits instantly lifted, and he gave Rhys a look of utter disdain.
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"She's our favorite, Parks!" Ed Tipper walked over to the center of the barracks, unbuttoned his shirt, and shrugged it off his shoulders to reveal his white undershirt. He wiggled his hips a few times. "Parks, it's obvious all your energy has been spent on Sobel's training. Has that psycho kept you too busy to notice anything else? Lake is the goddess of our dreams."
"Ooh—those tits!" Tipper blew a kiss into the air. "Absolutely intoxicating."
A few sounds of mock gagging came from around the barracks.
Rhys finally got the picture. This Veronica Lake was one of America's most famous glamour models, a cover girl for erotic magazines. No wonder the mention of her name got these guys in the barracks so worked up.
"Alright, Tipper, put that disgusting ass away," Rhys said with a laugh, reaching out to slap Tipper's still-wiggling backside. "We've got to get going. To be honest, I'm dying to find some fun in town."
"Hi-yo, Silver!"
With a collective shout, the men charged out of the barracks, laughing. This was a rare chance to let loose. Rhys was looking forward to it, too; since arriving here, he hadn't yet had a chance to experience the charm of a small American town in the 1940s.
The town's streets weren't wide. They were paved with asphalt, and the streetlights cast a dim, yellow glow. The town's tavern, however, was brightly lit and bustling with noise.
When Rhys and the others pushed the door open, they were met with a wall of cigarette smoke and a chaotic din of shouting, swearing, and loud arguments.
Rhys couldn't believe this messy place was the so-called paradise the soldiers always talked about. Clearly, their description and his imagination were worlds apart.
"Whoa, Parks, you're acting like you've never been here before," Roy Cobb said, giving Rhys a strange look. "You're a regular here."
"Heh, buddy, even though there are a lot of dames here, you've never actually managed to pick one up!" Tipper added. The group then found a table and sat down.
A plump waitress who looked to be in her thirties, her skin so oily it looked like it might drip butter, came over. She had a few freckles on her face.
"What can I get for you soldier boys?" the plump waitress asked in a cloying voice. "Beer?"
"Yes, a round for everyone! And make it quick, Auntie Emma!" Alton More said.
"Hold your horses!" The waitress, Emma, shot More a glare. As she turned away, she leaned down and gave his crotch a sharp squeeze. More yelped in surprise, and the rest of the group roared with laughter.
Rhys took a large gulp of beer. At the same time, More, Cobb, and Tipper's eyes began darting around the room, searching for targets.
"Brothers, you'll have to excuse me," Tipper said, downing his beer in one go. His eyes were locked on a busty blonde girl. He stood up. "That one's mine."
Watching Tipper walk toward the girl, Rhys shook his head and smiled. "Is he always like this?"
"Of course. Hey, buddy, what do we come out here for if not to have some fun?" More laughed. "You want to be stuck in the barracks all day, jerking off to pass the time?"
"Parks, has Lieutenant Sobel trained the sense out of you?" Cobb chuckled.
"Don't mention Sobel!" White's resentment for the man clearly ran deep. "If you say his name right now, I won't be able to get it up tonight, and you'll have to compensate me for my loss."
"Fine, we won't talk about him! Let's check out the girls here," Cobb said, also standing up. He had clearly found a target of his own—a girl who was winking at him.
"Hi-yo, Silver!" More smacked Cobb on the ass as he walked away.
It was natural for American GIs to seek out pleasure when they weren't training. But even though Rhys had grown accustomed to his new body, he still couldn't quite get used to this open American lifestyle. It felt too unrestrained.
"I think I'll head back to the barracks," Rhys said, raising his empty beer mug to cover his embarrassment. "I've had enough to drink. I want to go back and get a good night's sleep. With no Lieutenant Sobel in the morning, I should be able to sleep soundly."
White grabbed Rhys's arm, looking displeased. "Oh, come on, Rhys! We came out together. If people find out we ditched you halfway through the night, we'll never be able to show our faces in the company again!"
"Yeah, Parks, don't be a buzzkill!" More chimed in.
"I'm really a bit drunk. You want me to pass out on top of a girl without being able to do anything? I'd become a joke!" Rhys tried to argue, but More and White refused to let him leave.
As the three were talking, they suddenly heard a loud 'CRASH' from nearby, followed by a woman's scream and a cacophony of shouting. They all looked over to see Roy Cobb and a large, burly man grabbing each other by the collar. The girl who had been winking at Cobb was standing nearby, crying.
"Damn it!" Alton More slapped his hand in frustration. "That bastard Cobb is probably stirring up trouble again."
"Come on, let's go see. We can't let our brother get screwed over," Rhys said, patting More and White on the shoulder. By now, seven or eight other large men were surrounding Cobb.
"Hey, you stupid soldier boy, you trying to steal my girl?" the burly man facing Cobb said. He wore an open vest, revealing solid muscles that glistened with sweat under the lights. "If you know what's good for you, get the hell out of here."
"She was with me first!" Cobb wanted to back down, but he glanced at the girl and couldn't bring himself to lose face. "What… what do you think you're doing? Trying to cut in?"
"She was with you first? Don't be stupid, she's my girl. Are you trying to move in on my girl?" The burly man shoved Cobb's shoulder, sending him staggering back, nearly falling. "Oh, look everyone! This is one of our brave American soldiers! If they're all like you, I can push them over with one finger. How are you supposed to kill Krauts?"
The tavern erupted in derisive laughter.
"Don't you dare insult us!" Cobb steadied himself, his anger rising. "Don't you dare insult the paratroopers!"
"You're paratroopers? That's even more pathetic! You should all just go home and be your mommy's good little boys!" The man laughed, then clenched his fist. "First, let me teach you a lesson, you little punk. Next time, watch where you're looking when you're trying to pick up women!" With that, he threw a punch.
Cobb was clearly terrified. The punch landed with a sickening 'THUD', instantly blackening his eye.
Cobb cried out in pain, stumbling back several steps while clutching his eye. He lost his balance and fell backward, taking a table with him in a crash of glass and spilling drinks. The sound was met with shrieks from the women and cheers from the men.
"Useless fucker. Get up. I'll let you have another taste of my fist!" The burly man started to move toward Cobb.
"Leave it, Clint. He's just a pathetic loser. Let's get back to our drinks, don't worry about him," one of the man's companions called out.
"Leave it? No way. I want to have a taste of 'his' fists," a voice said from behind the burly man, Clint.
"Parks!" White cried out worriedly when he saw Rhys step forward. There was no way a few of them could handle seven or eight big guys. They would definitely get their asses kicked.
Rhys glanced back at White, winked, and smiled. "Don't worry, White. I just don't like it when people insult the paratroopers. So he's going to have to apologize to Cobb, and to us."
"Apologize?" Clint roared with laughter. "Did you all hear that? This little punk wants us to apologize! Looks like you've got some guts. But having guts won't do you any good here!" With a grunt, he swung a heavy fist at Rhys.
"Look out, Parks!" White screamed.
"Parks!" More and a now-recovering Cobb shouted in unison.
There was a dull 'THUMP' as the punch met flesh, followed immediately by the splintering 'CRASH' of a table being smashed to the floor. Everyone watched the scene, frozen in stunned silence.