Tiny black dots floated down from the sky, dropped from larger grayer dots, to the seas, and disappeared under the latter. The young soldier looking upon couldn't help but snicker. The "Allies" were almost as bad off as they were.

"This is crazy!" The soldier beside him exclaimed. "A smart fellow knows I'm as loyal as the next person, but Hitler is wrong this time. We have nothing. Our planes make a poor match to theirs. We need to move out."

"You shouldn't speak so of your superiors." The young soldier felt himself saying out of habit, though the part about no planes was undeniably correct.

"Halt die Schnauze, Lutz. Just because you're older than most of us doesn't mean you have the right to talk down."

"You're wrong." Lutz smirked, though he wanted to wring this retarded imbecile's neck. "I have been here longer than any of you. I have the experience. You—have nothing."

"If you were a Frenchman, I'd kill you in a second." The younger fighter said in disgust, reloading his rifle and staring with intent at the crawling, American-packed beach.

If he were not under orders, he would kill this boy in a second, Lutz thought to himself in frustration. He didn't know how he had toiled, idled, and prepared for this role. Nobody knew how he had had to bargain, crawl, beg, intimidate, sit back and take orders, not to mention that stupid WEL camp training he had to go through, for 6 weeks, for years, years before this. They would not even put Lutz, who had long been qualified, held back because he was qualified, in an advanced camp. And Herr Berger had gotten right in without trying. Luftwaffe. He could swear that bastard was a fucking faggot, the way he moped around after Peter had been hauled away to Fuhlsbüttel, where those other Hamburg Swingheine were taken. Well he had "wised up," hadn't he? Anything was better than the pointless humiliation those Swing Kids faced, but it was the local Gestapo, the Hitlerjugend leader, and so Hitler himself that had done this to him, held him back for so long. Neither side could win.

The same seemed true for the situation he witnessed now. Most of the paratroopers were drowning, and few were getting past the hedgehogs they had set up in the sea. But the Allies had air superiority and 5000 planes on its side. The Luftwaffe, in grim comparison, had 820 aircraft, 200 of which were ready to go into battle. Allegedly no regiment had received commands from the Führer yet. There was a story going around that their leader had gone into hiding after hearing about the surprise and could not currently be found. 'That showed how brave of a leader we have had these past eleven years,' several fighters Lutz had overheard said with disgust. The story was nonsense. Hitler was awake, alert, and aware of their action on the beach and would be ready to call them back if they failed. Rommels was in Germany now, but they didn't need him to give the word- Hitler was the high commander. If the entire division was gullible enough to believe this wide-spread tall tale, they were not worth much- a fact that would not surprise Lutz. Back in his day the HJ leaders had taught eager students, not these oafs he had to call his comrades now. Even Berger had had a healthy patriotic spirit for the year or so he was enrolled. Berger may be a faggot, but he had had more 'man' to him than this whole division put together, it seemed. But he was still a cheating, conniving, sickening faggot. If Lutz ever met his former friend again, he would kill him without consideration.

Lutz, looking at the beach, felt a strange ringing in his ears and swore he could almost hear the radio broadcast that would surely be blaring from every radio in the country even so soon at the end of the day: 6 June 1944: Heil Hitler! Long live the Reich! No matter who had the airways, the Americans would be licked on the beach. The pillboxes would make sure of that. And as far as they were concerned, they were invisible, safe in the cliffs. They would surely win. He had not felt so happy since his training in the Hitlerjugend, those days so long ago.

5 years ago he was 17 and born ready for this. 4 years ago he was held back. He would, could, never have his revenge. Only now was he receiving compensation, and it was surely not even worth everything that he had lost. Emil Lutz, no longer a fool and no longer useless, never forgave and never forgot.