Beachead

In 1943, when I joined the military, I thought it would be a fun, exiting experience. I thought I could help the country in World War Two, by helping defeat the Nazis. On June 6, 1944 my enthusiasm was destroyed.
It all started in London, was I was stationed. Life was pretty easy there, until we were told about an assault on the beaches of Normandy. They had no set date for the assault (that the officers told us). Next thing I knew we were piling on a boat headed for Normandy. On the boat I was put in the cargo hold with hundreds of other men. Everyone looked nervous, including me. The man next to me said
“You look nervous, want a cigarette?”
I was very anxious about the next few days. So I said “Sure, I could use one, the names Jack” as he handed me the cigarette.
“I’m Bob, I’m going to Omaha Beach” he said.
I said “Wow that’s where I’m headed too, what landing boat are you on?” “I’m on L-345.” Bob said. “Well” I said “Talk about a small world, looks like we’re landing together.” “Yeah” Bob said “I better get some sleep, we have a big day ahead of us.”
“We sure do, goodnight Bob.” I tried but, couldn’t fall asleep while I was thinking about the horrors of the next day.
When we woke up we were given a small bit of breakfast and we were put in groups like cattle for the landing boats. After I climbed down the net to my boat I loaded my M1 Garand and Bob sat next to me. “I guess this is it” he said.
“Yeah good luck” I said. “Thanks I’ll need it” he said. “30 seconds!” the boat driver said. Men on the boat were vomiting and praying all around me. I even puked a couple times. We felt the boat hit the beach, the door opened, and all hell broke loose. We ran out to find cover, but there was none. Men were being gunned down all around. Grown men screaming for their mothers, it was awful. While sprinting I noticed a and MG-42 being loaded ahead of me, the infamous “Hitler’s Buzz saw” as it was nicknamed, because of its intimidating ripping sound as it fired at 1200 rounds per minute. As I was looking at it, its barrel suddenly exploded and lead started flying out. By the time I noticed it, it was too late. I felt a searing pain in my leg, and I dived in a bomb crater. Following me was Bob. “What’s the plan!” he screamed. “I don’t know” I said “That MG-42 is tearing up the beach!” Bob said “If we poked our heads out of this crater we’d be shot!”
That’s when he noticed my leg. “Are you sure you can still do this?” Bob said. “I’ve made it this far I can’t stop now!” “Ok! That MGs been going for awhile” Bob said “It should be close to overheating.” I said “And they’re going to have to change the barrel.” “Exactly” he said. While waiting for the gun to overheat I quickly dressed my leg with a handkerchief. That partially stopped the bleeding, but I knew I had to tough it out. Suddenly the MG-42 stopped. “GO!” shouted Bob. We leapt out of the crater and I knew we only had a brief amount of time. I pointed my M1 and the gunner, and I heard “click” Damn, my gun was jammed. I had to think quickly. There was a dead soldier next to me. I picked up his M1 carbine, a smaller version of my M1 Garand. It had less range and power, but it would have to do for now. I fired it at his head right as they were finished reloading and I fired twice more killing the rest of the crew. I started puking with regret. It was a relief that the machine gun was taken out, but also the Germans were people just like you and I and I still had killed someone. I needed to stay focused. I sprinted to another bomb crater with Bob. “Kraut snipers 11 o clock!” Bob screamed. My gun was out of range for them. At this point we were next to the machine that we have taken out there was a Kar98k sitting there, the standard issue German rifle, only this one had a scope. I zoomed it in behind a metal plate I could barely see one of the sniper’s heads there was a noise in the sand next to me. One of the snipers had barely missed me. I had no time to waste. I put the crosshairs on the German and fired three more snipers to go. The next one was easy he was aiming to a completely different part of the beach. I fired and picked him off. My next situation was a little bit dangerous. The last two had both noticed me shooting the other snipers and both zeroed in on me. I shot one and the other was about to fire. Right at that moment Bob shot him with his M1 Garand. “Wow, great shot Bob, that was a tricky shot, and you just saved my life” I said. Bob said “That’s what brothers do” he said. That statement puzzled me, at first but then I figured it out. We were all related, in the fact that we were fighting for the same thing. We were actually ahead of the squad, and we were in danger of being separated, so we waited and defended our position. When the squad caught up a field medic took a look at my wound. “How bad is it?” I said. “There’s been worse” the medic said, “We may have to amputate in the future, but you’ll be good for awhile, the main bleeding has stopped.” The thought of an amputation was bone chilling, but I knew I couldn’t think about it then. There was more at stake than just my leg. The squad started moving on, the pain in my leg was intense on my leg but I pushed on. Then we came to our next challenge- a large cliff leading to their defensive position.
There was no obvious way up to the top. One member of the squad stepped forward and said
“I have a rope, if that’ll help, but no way of getting it up there” This was a major setback.
“The man with the radio interrupted, “Sir, we have approval for air support” “Good” the officer said, “use it on those MG bunkers over at your 10:00”
“I called it in” the man said
“Ok, let’s move on” said the officer.
“What are we going to do about the cliff?” I said
“Were going to set it, and you’re going first, since you fight so well.”
“Yes sir” I said
I knew I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but I couldn’t tell a higher ranking officer no. so we threw the rope up the cliff. This could have been the most nerve-racking part of the battle for me. If a German above saw the rope, they would cut it. To make things worse, I was afraid of heights.
“Ready to go?” the Officer said.
“Yes” I said
I began climbing the rope one awful step at a time. In about five minutes (that seemed to be about forty-five to me at the time) I reached close to the top. I thought to be sure, I would throw some frag grenades over the wall. I heard the bang and I climbed over the wall, with Bob, and many others behind me. We stormed the machine gun nests at once, taking out the main threat to the men below. Then our next priority- the trenches. The whole squad stormed the trenches all at once. A tunnel appeared around the corner.
“Out of the way” a man behind me said who was wielding an M2 flamethrower.
He ran in first and flames started shooting out the tip of his weapon. It was awful to hear the screams of the burning men inside, and the smell of the men made me throw up again. We rushed through the tunnel as we came to an artillery gun poking out of the hillside. The men at the artillery piece were clearly outnumbered, so they surrendered without hesitation.
At this point the battle was pretty much won by the Allies, so at that point we took a break that everyone very well deserved. The officer handed Bob a small block of C4.
“We need to blow this gun up, and move out” said the officer.
Bob planted the explosives and we left the building. When we saw the first glimpse of light and walked out of the tunnel it was an amazing sight. The allies had clearly won the battle. Our officer approached me and said
“We couldn’t have done this without you, I think you deserve this”
In his hand was a Purple Heart meadal. He put it around my neck, and I said
“Thanks Sir’
“Now go to that medic tent over there” he said.
“Ok”
This is what I feared ever since I had gotten shot.
“That looks pretty gruesome” the medic said. “Were gonna have to amputate that”
“Have some morphine, were gonna have to knock you out”
Thinking about the terrible events of the day, I slowly fell asleep.
After that day I was put on leave back in London, thinking about Bob and if he still alive. In the papers I saw news that the war was over and the street was a large party. Two weeks later got a knock on the door of my bunker. It was Bob.
“I’m back from Berlin” he said
“Great!” I said “Now how about we go grab a drink?”
“Sounds good” Bob said.