Chapter Text
‘ Paul It’s June 6th, 1944, Wish you could see this brother, were invading some fog beach I’m not supposed to even know the name of.Also we can also take back France from the Nazis. But the waitings been half the battle ‘
Daniels closed his journal. He propped himself up once he had put his little diary away to listen while Zussman was telling some story about fighting the football captain.
“ So he asks me for my watch, and I'm thinking, ‘ What the hell do you want my watch for, you’re the captain of the god damn football team ? ‘ “.
Daniels just looked around the metal table where his little group of friends sat. He kept looking between Aiello and Stiles while Zussman told his little story, and played with the sharp combat knife in his hand, poking the spaces in between his fingers, and only pausing once he nicked himself on the side of his ring finger. He winced, and raised up his hand to see the small wound. Aiello hopped up from his seat, and flicked his cigarette to the floor. Most likely trying to see how badly Zussman cut himself. Daniels chuckled. Stiles was busy fiddling with his camera lens. Zussman offered the knife to Stiles once he looked. “ Besides, I gotta keep all my fingers if I'm gonna take photo of the year. '' Daniels smiled. ‘ He kinda looks like Clark Kent, but when you take off his glasses, the only thing that happens is he can’t see shit! ‘ Daniels laughed to himself.
Zussman looked to Daniels, and tossed him the knife, his signature smirk on his face. Daneils looked to Aiello, but he raised his hands in denial. Aiello looked over to Zussman, and got out of his chair.
“ Alright, let's make this more interesting. Saint Michael, patron saint of soldiers. “ Stiles and Daniels seemed enticed at the pendant. Zussman was the only one that looked confused. “ He’s had my back since Kassarine. Zussman 3 times in 10 seconds, and he’s all yours. “ Aiello tossed the charm on the table, and a small clanging sound followed.Zussman took a close look at the pendant, before raising his hands in fake surrender. “ I don’t know. “
Aiello smirked. “ Oh you could always puss out. “ Daniels looked at Zussman, who seemed way more confident after Aiello added his comment. He handed the knife across the table to his buddy. “ My moneys on Zussman. “ Zussman seemed to become even more confident with that.
“ Ok, I’m in. “ He turned to Stiles, “ Just time me when I tell you. “ Stiles rolled his eyes a bit. “ Now, back to my story. My and my buddies, we muscle our way into this poker game the football team has going. We worked out a system where they can signal to me everybody's hands. You should have seen the QB’s face when I took that pot. “ Zussman laughs. “ Now. “ Zussman stabbed the spaces in between his fingers. Daniels silently counted how many seconds it took. 8 seconds with 2 to spare. Aiello shot up from his seat. “ No flipping way! “ Zussman put the knife on the table, and extended his hand to shake. “ You get flushed! “ Aiello scowled at his hand. “ Ma never said shake hands with a Jew. “ Zussman looked him dead in the eye, before smiling. “ That's not what she said last night! “ He winked. Aiello rolled his eyes and grumbled, but shook Zussmans hand. “ Eh, who needs a stupid pendant anyways. '' Zussman reached up his hand for his prize, and held it in front of Aiello's face. “ Apparently you did! Aiello scoffed. “ I'll get myself a real trophy, you’ll see. “ Zussman laughed. “ Good luck with that. “
Stiles looked down at his watch. “ OH! Briefings at 18:00, we’re gonna be late! “ Stile shot up from his chair jogging to the door to the deck of the ship. Aiello soon followed. Zussman held up his new charm of good luck. “ I got us covered Daniels, don’t worry ‘bout it. ” The moment was ruined right after Zussman almost ran into their sergeant.
Sgt. William Pierson.
“ Briefings about to start. What the hell you boys doing? “
Pierson looked at them both sternly. They just stood there. Pierson doesn’t accept ‘ Oh yea, we were just gambling! ’ as an answer for being late. Daniels was snapped out of his thoughts when Pierson spoke sternly to both him and Zussman. ‘ So you think you’re special huh? The Krauts are gonna eat your lunch. ”. And of course Zussman had to have a smart-ass response. “ Not our lunch Sergeant. Our lunch is secure. ” In response, Pierson sneered at Zussman. ‘ Watch your lip, Zussman. On me. “ Daniels watched as the Sergeant stormed off. Zussman looked at the empty space.
“ Since I’m on a lucky streak, whatever happens, stay close. “ Daniels and Zussman did their little handshake. They hit each other's forearms lightly, twice, before holding onto their forearms, and shaking their hands. “ First Normandy, then The Rhine. We got this Daniels. “ Zussman began to make his way to the deck of the ship. Daniels followed close behind. Maybe this won’t be as bad with Zussman by his side.