Promotion and skepticism

After a brief observation of Lorenzo and his men, Major Thompson stood up from the table and said, "You lot get some rest. We'll talk more after you've had some shut-eye. Dismissed." The weary platoon saluted stiffly before trudging off to their quarters.

Exhaustion clung to them like a heavy blanket, but the enticing prospect of promotions and commendations danced in their minds as they drifted off to sleep.

Days later, after a grueling debriefing that sapped their remaining energy, the long-awaited news finally arrived. The major's aide summoned Lorenzo and his platoon to report to the major's office at once.

Major Thompson's expression was solemn as he began to speak. "Gentlemen, your actions during the engagement with the enemy have not gone unnoticed. Your bravery and resourcefulness under fire are a credit to the Allied cause." He then handed out envelopes, each addressed to them.

"Effective immediately, Second Lieutenant Lupo," he said, handing an envelope to Lorenzo, "you are hereby promoted to the rank of First Lieutenant."

Next, the major turned to Platoon Sergeant Richard. "Effective immediately, Platoon Sergeant Lawrence," he said, handing him his envelope, "you are hereby promoted to the rank of Master Sergeant." Richard saluted smartly.

Major Thompson's gaze shifted to the lower ranks of the Lupo Platoon. "And as for you two," he said, gesturing to Max and Patrick, "Private First Class Bercovicz," he handed an envelope to a beaming Max, "you are hereby promoted to the rank of Corporal."

"And as for you, Private Goldberg," he continued, handing another envelope to a wide-eyed Patrick, "you are hereby promoted to the rank of Private First Class."

The major then proceeded to promote every member of Lorenzo's platoon who had distinguished themselves during the harrowing defense of the liberty ship en route to Malta.

The room erupted in cheers and backslaps, the weight of their recent trials temporarily forgotten in the swell of camaraderie and pride.

"Don't celebrate too much, lads," Major Thompson cautioned, "the war's far from over. But tonight, enjoy yourselves. You've earned it."

That night, the newly promoted men of the platoon celebrated their promotions in true military fashion: with copious amounts of Maltese beer and camaraderie. They toasted their fallen comrades, their new ranks, and the battles yet to come.

As the night wore on, First Lieutenant Lupo found himself alone with Master Sergeant Richard, Corporal Bercovicz, and Private First Class Goldberg, all three of them nursing their drinks and staring out at the moonlit harbor.

"You know," Richard began, "this war's far from over. There'll be darker days ahead, I'm afraid."

Lorenzo nodded somberly. "Well, the only thing we can do is survive. You have to remember that." He patted Richard on the shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Despite being two years younger than Richard, and having fudged his age to enlist, making him four years younger in reality, Richard didn't know the truth. In his eyes, Lorenzo's maturity and leadership made him seem older, and he never questioned his superior's age. He respected and admired him too much for that.

Richard nodded in agreement and clinked his glass with Lorenzo's, Max's, and Patrick's. A few more members of the platoon joined them, and the celebration continued late into the night.

---

Early in the morning, Lorenzo awoke to the sound of seagulls squawking outside his barracks window. He groaned, rubbing his bleary eyes as he sat up in bed. The previous night's celebration still lingered in his head, but it was nothing a cup of strong coffee couldn't fix. Squinting in the dim light, his gaze fell on the new rank insignia pinned on his uniform, indicating his well-deserved promotion to First Lieutenant.

Despite the promotion, he knew that he was still leading the same tight-knit platoon, with only slightly more responsibility weighing on his shoulders. The debriefing after their harrowing survival had been enlightening, though. They were part of a larger operation codenamed "Operation Husky," which would see them infiltrating Sicily itself. Which is not surprising since he already predicted that.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. They had earned this brief respite, but they all knew the war was far from over. The Nazis wouldn't simply roll over and give up without a fight.

He swung his legs out of bed, planting his feet firmly on the cold stone floor. It was time to face the day, and whatever it brought their way.

Lorenzo pushed his worries about the upcoming mission aside as he led his platoon to the training grounds. This was their first chance since arriving in Malta to train under the notoriously tough Captain Morgan. His reputation for being unforgiving preceded him, and it showed on the faces of other US and Allied platoons alike.

After days of debriefings, the familiarity of training felt both foreign and comforting to Lupo's platoon and the other US Army platoons.

Captain Morgan eyed them all, his steely gaze lingering on Lupo's platoon. He'd heard about their heroics in defending the liberty ship en route to Malta. "You lot think you're special, don't you?" he barked. "Well, I'll wipe that smug look off your faces!"

The training that followed was relentless. They crawled through muddy trenches, scaled walls, and navigated obstacle courses until their muscles burned and lungs ached. The Maltese sun beat down mercilessly, but no one dared complain.

***

As the platoons pushed themselves through the grueling training, many weary eyes couldn't help but notice one particular soldier who seemed unfazed by the punishing drills.

"First Lieutenant Lupo", as his uniform read, was drenched in sweat, but he didn't so much as pant or show any signs of exhaustion. The other soldiers exchanged disbelieving glances.

"Who is that kid?" one of them whispered to another.

"Lieutenant Lupo," came the hushed reply. "He's the one who led his men in defending that liberty ship."

The news spread like wildfire, and the envious stares turned into begrudging respect. They doubled their efforts, determined not to be outdone by the young officer.

Captain Morgan, however, took note of the determination in their eyes. He'

smirked. "You lot think you're tough, eh? Let's see how long that lasts!" he barked, ordering them to do another round.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the captain blew his whistle, signaling a short break. First Lieutenant Lupo led his men to the mess hall, where they devoured their rations with gusto. The other US and Allied platoons followed suit, their eyes never straying far from the seemingly tireless officer.

In the days that followed, First Lieutenant Lupo's name began to circulate among the US and Allied troops. Captain Morgan, impressed by his seemingly endless stamina and skills in sharp-shooting and strategy, had nicknamed him "Iron Wolf" Lorenzo Lupo. The moniker spread like wildfire, and many wondered if the young officer was even human.

However, not everyone was impressed by the American's prowess. Among the skeptics were the Shelby brothers of the British Army, who trained alongside their own platoon members.

Lieutenant Thomas Shelby, flanked by his elder brother Warrant Officer II Arthur and younger brother Lance Corporal John, led their men with a steely determination. The British Army, instrumental in seizing Malta, didn't have time to fawn over a mere Yank.

As the Shelby brothers took a much-needed break, John couldn't help but bring up the topic on everyone's mind. "You lot heard about this 'Iron Wolf' Lorenzo? Heard he's got endless stamina and excels at every training."

The British Army, having trained separately from the Americans and other Allies, were understandably skeptical.

Arthur scoffed, spitting out his cigarette. "Hmph. You actually believe that rubbish? It's just Yanks trying to prove their lot is better than us Brits. Don't fall for it, John." He patted his younger brother's shoulder, who promptly swatted his hand away.

"I'm just wondering if he's onto something, like secret training." John defended himself, a hint of hope in his voice.

Arthur turned to their brother, Thomas. "Tommy, set this brat straight."

Thomas Shelby sighed. "I agree with Arthur. Don't believe everything you hear. No one's perfect, and no amount of 'secret training' can give a man endless energy."

John frowned, but he had a point. "Then I wonder... if maybe he's using something, you know, to boost his performance." By 'boost', he meant performance-enhancing drugs.

Hearing this, Thomas and Arthur exchanged glances. "Well, if that 'Iron Wolf' is as good as they say, maybe he is on something," Arthur mused aloud.

Thomas stroked his chin. "You mean the Yank has better Bennies than us?"

John's eyes lit up. "Yeah, why don't we have a chat with him? Maybe we can get some for ourselves before the mission?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oi, you just want more drugs, don't you?"

"Bennies are good, but if there's something better, why not?" John shot back. He turned to Thomas. "Tommy, what do you think?"

Thomas Shelby considered it for a moment. "Alright, let's invite this Lupo to our cookhouse. See what he's made of."

The Shelby brothers shared a knowing look.

The US and Allied troops had their own mess hall, while the larger one was reserved for the British Army. This would be an opportunity to see if the American was as good as they claimed.

The Shelby brothers weren't the only ones to notice Lorenzo's unusual behavior. A select few within the US Army had also started to whisper among themselves, speculating that he might be using some sort of magical drug to explain his newfound abilities.

However, these suspicions remained just that - whispers and hushed conversations. Neither the US Army nor their allies had any concrete evidence or proof, and they were reluctant to confront him about it directly, especially given his recent success on defending Liberty Ship and ally vessels. They decided to keep an eye on him, but for now, they chose to remain silent, not wanting to jeopardize their advantage in the war against the Axis powers.

---

AN: Take note that I've changed the Peaky Blinders timeline. Instead of participating in World War 1, the Shelby brothers were now partaking in their first war during World War 2.