Winters narrates that Shifty wasn't the only casualty in Austria. We immediately cut to Welsh, so at first I assumed he was a goner; as the scene progressed, though, I realized it was just a stupid transition. For shame, Spanks. Welsh insists to Nixon that he's quitting the Army -- he has the points, so he refuses to risk his life another minute when he could easily return to Kitty and get married. "You think that Kitty hasn't run off with some 4-F by now?" jokes Nixon. Welsh curses at him. Winters strolls over and mildly warns Welsh against paying attention to the jaded Nixon. Again, we cut to a long establishing shot that shows Winters standing jauntily on the stairs while Welsh and Nixon sit and relax on the landing. It's just brief enough that it quashes the scene's energy. Nixon argues that Welsh has been gone three years already, so another three in Tokyo shouldn't be a problem for Kitty -- especially if Welsh doesn't ever tell her that he had the chance to return home early. Welsh, along with everyone else in the entire world, figures this is a totally stupid idea, especially because it's likely that Easy will linger in Austria for several months before the Army gets around to redeploying the division. No, Welsh opts to return home to Wilkes-Barre, PA, to make monkey love to his bride and conceive a few babies in the process. He's far too lusty for war. "You didn't tell him?" Winters asks, arching a brow at Nixon. "I couldn't get him to shut up," snarks Nixon. Addressing Welsh, Nixon explains, pointing to Winters, "Guts and Glory here applied for a transfer." Evidently, the 13th Airborne is poised to head straight for Japan, and Winters wants to get his stint in the Pacific over with as quickly as possible. The first time I heard this, I wanted to rail against the writers for scripting something so totally out-of-character for the man who cherished and championed Easy Company so ardently. I wanted to belly-flop onto the carpet and kick and wail and scream, and bemoan the stupidity of the show; then, I remembered it's a true damn story and that Richard Winters might actually have wanted this. Then, I unclenched my fists, picked up my jaw from its place of honor on the rug, and poured myself a Hard Cider. That really helped. Welsh, though, is as startled as I was. "Are you in on this, too?" he demands of Nixon, who was indeed privy to the plan. "I can't let him go by himself," Nixon protests. "He doesn't know where it is!" And, you're in love with him. It's okay, Nix. We all are. Welsh just can't come to grips with the idea of Dick Winters leaving his men. "They don't need me anymore," Winters insists feebly. Birds loudly chirp in protest.