11 Chapter: 11 The Major

As Helen stood before Major Maximilian and Captain Duval, she couldn't help but feel a surge of nerves at the unexpected loud noise. Her training kicked in, and she instinctively reached for her sidearm, her heart racing as she scanned the tent for any signs of danger.

Major Maximilian and Captain Duval exchanged a glance, amusement flickering in their eyes at Helen's reaction. Major Maximilian chuckled lightly before turning his attention back to her.

"Looks like someone's a bit jumpy,"

The woman, Captain Duval, remarked with a smirk on her lips.

"The shells are falling at least two miles away, Lieutenant."

Chuckled the Major as he pulled out an antique cigar case from the breast pocket of his uniform. The leather case was worn and of deep mahogany color, with a silver plaque on the inside of the case with a coat of arms and a faded inscription of an old French Aristocratic family. 

Popping it open, he revealed several fat cigars, and selecting one with practical ease, he fished out a small guillotine cutter and snipped off the cap with a satisfying snip. He held the cigar to his nose, inhaling the deep earthy aroma.

No fancy posh silver lighter for the old boy, instead, he fished out an old matchbox from somewhere on the cluttered table and lit up a single stick. He held the flickering flame to the foot of the cigar, not directly, but at a slight distance, allowing the tobacco to warm gently. 

He puffed slowly, a long, slow draw that filled his mouth with smoke, savoring the smoke as it danced around his face. He exhaled, the smoke curling lazily into the air. Unlike a cigarette, this was about savoring the moment, the rich flavor being a welcoming distraction to the Major.

*POP!*

*SIZZLE!*

"Would you like one?"

It was the Captain who asked the question. While the Major was busy with his fancy cigar, she lit a cigarette for herself and offered another to Helen.

Helen blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden offer. She herself had been quite the smoker... before she quit the army, sometimes she seriously wondered if she was drugged when she submitted the discharge for,

"Thank you, Captain,"

 She replied, accepting the offered cigarette with a small nod of gratitude. She watched as Captain Ducal lit the cigarette for her, the flame casting a warm glow on her frighteningly pale face in the dimly lit tent.

Taking a deep breath, Helen drew in the smoke, feeling the soothing harsh burn in her lungs as she inhaled deeply. She held onto the smoke for a moment before exhaling slowly, watching as the wisps of smoke curled upwards and dissipated into the air.

"Like a natural,"

Major Maximilian remarked with a grin, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Captain Duval chuckled softly, a playful glint in her mint-green eyes.

"Welcome to the club, Lieutenant."

Major Maximilian chuckled again, leaning back in his chair, puffing contentedly on his cigar as he regarded Helen with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"So, Lieutenant Bacchus, what brings you to our humble abode?"

He inquired, his tone casual yet attentive.

Helen straightened her posture, gathering her thoughts before responding, 

"Sir. I've just been assigned to this dressing camp, sir. I'm reporting for duty and ready to assist in any way I can, sir."

She replied in a respectful and professional tone. 

"Drop the sir!"

Major Maximilian groaned before taking another puff of his cigar,

"Just call me Major or Maximilian or Reggie and be done with it."

Helen listened to the Major's request to drop the formalities and couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as the atmosphere in the tent relaxed,

"Understood, Major,"

Helen replied with a nod, feeling slightly more comfortable and relaxed now that she knew the Major was not a man of rigid military decorum.

Major Maximilian nodded in approval, a faint smile playing on his lips as he gestured toward the map spread out on the table.

"Good. Now, let's get down to business,"

He said, his tone becoming more serious as he turned his attention to the task at hand.

Helen raised an eyebrow, well, at least she didn't have to lean forward to get a better view.

The major began to explain the current situation and the objective of their camp, or rather, the three 'Allied' Companies stationed there.

"We're currently stationed here,"

The Major pointed to a location on the map... with his cigar,

"and our primary objective is to provide support to the frontline units and ensure the smooth flow of casualties from the trenches and to the field hospitals."

As he spoke, Helen listened intently, inwardly wondering why the hell was this man telling her so much.

Helen inhaled deeply, the smoke momentarily blurring her vision. Ghost, ever present in her mind, scoffed.

'Trust issues much? Maybe they're just trying to be friendly.'

{Says the one who got shot in the chest... point-blank.}

Helen ignored their bantering, focusing on the map in front of her.

The Major's cigar smoke lingered in the air, wafting through the tent as his speech continued. Helen's gaze traveled across the map, taking note of the locations marked. She couldn't help but notice the rather chaotic and disorganized layout of the Allied forces in the area, with multiple gaps between the lines of trenches.

The Major was now describing the situation along the trenches, with the line of contact between the Allied and German forces slowly eroding. It seemed like the situation was rather... stale.

"As part of our duties here, we coordinate with the frontline units to ensure they have the medical supplies and evacuation personnel they might need,"

The Major explained, gesturing to three major points on the map as he spoke,

"We also oversee the transportation of injured soldiers from the trenches to the field hospitals, working closely with the Field Hospital and several Scouting Regiments to provide immediate care and evacuation as necessary."

Helen nodded.

So, their role in the entire affair was to pull out injured soldiers, patch them up, and send them back into the trenches.

"Additionally,"

The Major continued,

"And this is our most important role, we're responsible for maintaining communication lines between the trenches and the field hospital... at least some of them. We relay vital information and coordinate reinforcement as needed, the latter more than the former though."

The Major beamed in a strange, pleased sort of manner, satisfied with his explanation. His gaze lingered over Helen for a moment longer before continuing,

"As a newly formed unit, your Platoon's primary responsibilities will not only include coordinating with the medical staff, organizing casualty evacuation when possible, and ensuring the safety of our supply lines and the medical staff... possibly, retrieval of dead bodies too." 

Helen listened attentively to the long list of responsibilities laden on her newly formed charge and wondered what would kill her first, an enemy bullet or the workload.

"In addition,"

The Major added,

"I'll need you to liaise between you lots from the AEF and the rest of our allied units in this dressing station... and coordinate any joint operations or support efforts or defense of the camp in case we come under siege. 

He finished with a firm tone, particularly emphasizing the absolute importance of collaboration on the American Expeditionary Force's part.

Helen just nodded her head, well, what else could she do? Practically every critical role had been dumped on her lap alongside those of her neighbors' and their neighbors' as well.

"Is there anything else I should be aware of, Major?"

Helen inquired, her voice steady but slightly strained internally as she sought the end of a very long list indeed.

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