Memories of a Soldier Pt1

Part 1

By now the men were starting to get tired. A day of marching with through fields, hedgerows and tree's had yet to yield Germans to fight.
Looking down the line I could see the men’s faces were starting to wander; thinking about home or loved ones far away. I would have joined them, but I had done it so many times already.
A few meters away on the dirt road, a section Sherman tanks ground slowly past, with the infantry from first platoon hitching a ride on them.
"Lucky bastards," I thought to myself. "Our turn tomorrow."
As the sun slowly made its way across the blue sky above, we continued on. Sporadic explosions and gun fire kept my mind from straying too far from the job at hand. Someone even remarked that they wish Gerry would shoot at us to give us something to do.
Dusk was beginning to set in when suddenly, "Company, hold up!" shouted our CO.
Nearly every man in my platoon sighed when they heard that command. Some lay down, others knelt and had a drink and savored the brief rest given to us. I was about to open up a ration pack when I glanced up at the horizon and saw a speck. Looking more carefully I noticed it was actually a church spire. Back at the head of the column my CO and all the platoon leaders were gathered around in a circle. Some of first platoon and the tankers had disembarked the tanks and were stretching their limbs.
A few minutes later the officers broke up their meeting and returned to their units. First platoons CO yelled at some of his men to still on the idling tanks to get off and gather around him.
"Second platoon, gather around." Shouted my platoon leader, Lieutenant Bailey.
"Looks like where about to see some action Foley." muttered one of my squad mates, Private O’Donnell.
"Either that or we're setting up camp for the night." said my squad leader, Sergeant Evans hauling himself up off the ground.
"No, I think the Captain's going to make a move on that town up ahead." I said.
"Town? Up ahead? You’re seeing things Foley?"
"See the church spire on the horizon?"
A few seconds of squinting later and "Jesus Foley, trust you to notice that." said Evans.
"Just cause my minds on the job and not in my girlfriends panties back at home." I remarked.
After a brief pause, "Both as important." Evans replied, with a small grin beginning to form.

At this moment, had any one of the Americans turned and looked at the small church spire off in the distance. They would have noticed a very faint reflection of light off a binocular lens. As though someone were up there watching them, waiting for them.
But none did. They were all too busy waiting to find out whether they were going to be sleeping on a cold field or in a warm bed of the village up ahead tonight.
"All right men,” began Bailey. "Captain Forester wants us to make a move on the village a mile or so beyond that hill up ahead."
Some of the men sighed, others already expected this. One man even paid a few dollars to a smiling buddy next to him who had just won a bet.
"Battalion says theirs been some heavy fighting up north which has drawn a lot of the Germans equipment and attention in that direction." He continued. “Hopefully and resistance will be short and easy."
A few of the men nodded happily and at that.
"So here's how it’s going to go." Began Bailey, pointing to a map laid out on the ground. "First platoon are going in from the west supported by the tanks."
There were a few grunts and groans at that, it appeared first platoon were getting it easy. Hitching rides and getting armored support.
"Third is coming up from the south and will attempt to cut off a German withdraw." Making a few gestures on the map. "And we are coming up between the tanks and third platoon. So we will be able to leach onto the tanks a bit. But they attract fire like nothing else so do not get too close. Got it?"
"Yes Sir!" the platoon replied, a bit more enthusiastic with the last part from the lieutenant.
The response was echoed by the other two platoons and the tank crewmen revving their engines in preparation readiness.

A short time later I found myself moving through a knee deep grass field. No wandering looks and tired expressions from the men this time. Only serious, emotionless masks as we made our way toward the peaceful village. This appeared to have survived the war without a scratch, so far anyway.
The only sounds I could hear were those of the foot falls of other men surrounding me and the diesel engines of the five Sherman’s moving into the town. My eyes darted back and forth, up and down. Scanning for any signs of movement that might betray a German. The sun was now starting to duck below the horizon and had cast a dull orange glow upon the countryside.
By the time we started to reach the outskirts of the town and filter in and around the buildings all I could hear was the sound of my heart beating overtime with adrenaline and fear. Any second now a gunshot could ring out, the man next to me could fall to the ground screaming or simply nothing could happen. Which it did. The eerie silence remained and we continued move into the town. Leap frogging pass one another as one squad would reach a corner, or wall and the squad following would move pass them and so on. Coving each other in the process.
I slumped down behind a small stone wall and raised my rifle to my shoulder. Scanning the small alley ahead of me. Nothing. I motioned for the rest of my squad to move forward. Evans patted me on the back when he passed and I joined onto the back of the squad. Reaching the end of the alley a Sherman went rumbling passed, tracking its turret back and forth in search of a target. Its commanders head visible, stuck to a pair of binoculars also scanning back and forth. We headed forward along side it, trying to keep a bit of space in between us but also using its bulk to shield us slightly.
After a short distance we came to a small hedge and took cover behind it. The Sherman continued on as another couple of squads caught up with us and set themselves up behind the hedge. Up ahead was some open ground and then the church. It was a small distance to cover, but still it was open ground void of protection and cover; a soldiers worst nightmare when being shot at.
A moment later Bailey appeared and set himself down beside the squad. After a brief moment of observation he kept the battle going.
"Alright, gotta cover this open ground." He started. "First and second squads double time it across the field, use the Sherman as cover and we'll provide cover fire. When you reach the church, clear it and set yourselves up there. We'll meet you there."
With that said, we didn't hesitate. Evans moved first, followed by Hall, Plesher, Loranne, O’Donnell and myself. We caught up with the Sherman no problem and slowed down to its pace. Second squad had less ground to cover but was more exposed; I could see their eyes wide open, looking back and forth as thought trying to pierce the shadows and buildings to see what was beyond them.
Then up ahead in one of the town houses I thought I saw something move. It was just a flicker of movement; the window opening or someone moving. I was waiting for it to happen again, but nothing.
Then I saw it again, all too clearly this time.
And at that moment, all hell broke loose.

***

From the window there was a flash, then smoke and the front of the Sherman exploded. The tank immediately ground to a halt; driver must have been hit. A split second later two unseen machine guns opened up and signaled the demise of the squad next to me. They didn't stand a chance.
In the short space of a couple of seconds a few hundred rounds slammed into the exposed squad. They all fell without so much as a scream with blood exploding out of numerous holes in their bodies. Dirt continued to get shot up around them long after they were dead.
Those were the only easy kills the Germans were going to get.
I didn't need to be told what to do. I ran as fast as my legs could go back to the hedge, the rest of my squad following very closely. Plesher was almost about to jump over the hedge when his chest exploded in a bloody mist and what remained of him slumped to the ground just short of cover.
By now the Sherman’s crew had recovered and was tracking their turret over to one of the houses containing a machine gun, and were about to fire when a German panzer roared around a corner further ahead of it.
"Holy shit." someone shouted.
Without missing a beat it targeted the Sherman and fired, but the shell skimmed off the side of the turret. This caught the Sherman crews attention and they quickly began to line up the panzer, but it was moving fast and would take time. Unfazed the panzer fired again, this time hitting a weak point at the barrel and turret.

There was a dull whump, pause and then a massive explosion as the ammunition in the Sherman detonated. The turret was torn apart from within, scattering twisted metal into the air.
None of the crew made it out.
Although a charred, bloodied hand did appear out of the driver’s compartment. Before going limp and get consumed by the fire engulfing the tank.
As soon as the Sherman was on fire the German panzer turned its attention toward first platoon which had been stopped dead in its tracks by the German infantry. I was firing away at whatever moved and resembled a German as first platoon began to fall back. They speed and skill of the Germans maneuvering had forced the platoon to fall back and avoid being surrounded.
The panzer bore down on them with force. Not showing any mercy. Its turret tracked back and forth, firing at any American that came into view. Leveling a few buildings in the process. The machine gun in its front hull blasted away furiously. Cutting down Americans one, two or five at a time.
I tore my attention back to my situation. My platoon and third seamed fairly safe. No Germans trying to move around our flank or crush us head on.
That’s when I realized.
I scanned around for Lieutenant Bailey and spotted him further down the line directing the fire of a couple of the platoon’s squads. I tried to get his attention by yelling over the roar of more than a hundred rifles, machine guns, explosions, screams, other people yelling and cannons blasting away. But that was no use. I fired off the last of my clip, reloaded and was about to run over to Bailey when;
O’Donnell’s neck was spattered over one side of my face.
He jerked back to the ground, dropping his rifle and clutching at the ruins of his throat. I fell flat on my ass, holding back the urge to vomit.
Gasping and coughing up blood, his eyes wide with pain or fear O’Donnell reached out to me with a blood covered hand. I just sat there in shock; covered in the blood of my friend of 3 years writhing in agony at my feet.
I didn’t know what to do. I was in total shock.

Before I knew it I was curled up in a ball at the foot of a hedge on the verge of crying. I just sat there looking at my friend; dying at my feet. Blood seeping through his bloodied hands and pooling around his head.
A grenade exploded nearby, some gunfire died off and after a brief silence some screams of agony filled the air.
With that I suddenly shook of the shock somehow, scooped up my rifle and looked around. The Germans fire had picked up and was starting to pin us down. A grenade had gone off a few meters down the hedge and two of my platoon had been too close. One lay screaming at the bloodied stump of his hand and the other didn’t make a sound. One look at his shrapnel shredded face said it all. This forced me into action.
“MEDIC!” I screamed. “MEDIC!”
Out of the smoke and gunfire came bolting a soldier wearing a red cross in a white circle on his helmet. A welcome site of any wounded soldier.
I didn’t need to say anything to him. He immediately set to work on O’Donnell, I didn’t stick around. I bolted to where Bailey was snapping off shots at the Germans with mechanical speed. Someone must have had me in their sights as bullets started to wiz around my head more frequently and impact with the brick wall next to me. Small bits of brick were blasted off the wall and into my face, forcing me to shield myself and continue on.
I finally got to Bailey as he was reloading.
“SIR.” I shouted over the battle around us.
When he looked at me there was a slight flinch as he noticed the blood on me. “What is it Foley?”
“We’ve gotta fall back Sir, the Germans have pushed first platoon back and look as though their going to flank the Sherman's and then hit us in our flank.”
Bailey looked over me and at the events unfolding in the west of the town. First platoon was pretty much nowhere to be seen and the Sherman's were in full reverse trying to get the hell out of the town; leaving our flank completely open and taking pot shots at the panzer which was ruining our day. He didn’t take more than ten seconds to make his decision.
“Get over to Lieutenant Mathews in third platoon and tell him to withdraw. I’ll….”
His words were lost forever as a snipers bullet punched through his helmet just below his silver Lieutenants’ bar, entering his head and blowing out the back; bringing a large amount of stringy brain matter with it.
I think I handled his death better because I didn’t know him as well. His head snapped back, mouth dropped open and had slumped unceremoniously into a heap before his eyes glassed over.
“Oh Jesus Christ!” I heard someone yell.
At that moment I looked up from the Lieutenants corpse and my gaze met that of Sergeant Maher, who was in charge of the platoon now.
“We’re pulling back!” I yelled. “Passing the word on to third now!”
I didn’t see his response; I was already on my feet and bolting over to Mathews before I had finished talking.