The Rising Tide
Authors note- This story is better known as To Save Private Ryan. Taking into account that I wrote that story three years ago, I decided to completely redo it. You will obviously find commonalities. I will be paying more attention to Com's character as he was shoved off to the side TSPR. Thank you for putting up with me.
-I don't own SPR. But I'd sure like to.
Steel gray waves crashed into the landing craft as a company of men floated towards Omaha Beach.
It was the June 6th, 1944. All around men were getting sick, some were praying and a few… a few men just sat, eyes glued to the approaching coastline. One man among that group sat, cold, eyes lifeless, just like a shell. A shell of a man, just empty, no thoughts or feelings. He had done this too many times already at the young age of 19. Ruined by war like so many others the young Sergeant sat, waiting, calculating, and hoping. He known as Com. A boy who had enlisted in the army at 17 and was turned into a man by the time he finished. He went through basic, through Ranger training and was out in Africa even before the US entered the Second World War. He was tall with lean muscles and earthy brown hair. His grey eyes matched the waves that were smashing into the craft.
His captain stood behind him. Dark haired, tanned, and at least 30 year old. He was the oldest in the craft.
A soldier near the front, a new recruit was breaking down. "Are we all gonna die!" He asked voice quivering. The captain looked at him fixing a smile upon his face.
"No, two thirds tops." He said calmly.
The soldier whimpered and hid his face in his hands. John Miller turned to his Sergeant and the others in the boat and said. "I want every one of you to look at the man on your left. Now look at the man on your right. Feel sorry for those to sons-of-bitches, cause they're going to get it, and you're not going to get a scratch." A few smiled and Com shook his head with a grim smile. The carrier continued towards the beach. One or two of the German positions opened fire letting off a few sporadic rounds.
"Well Com I say we still got a few more in us, ya think?" Miller asked from the bench behind you.
"Of course. I wouldn't be here if we didn't." Com said a grin loosening the tense look on his face.
The boats were minutes away from releasing their loads. Machine gun fire erupted in front of the men. Well placed bullets pelted the some of the soldiers in the boat. Com ducked as a bullet whirled towards him with a horrible sucking noise. It slammed into the steel wall beside him with a sharp ping and he shook his head in a dazed way. The carrier pulled up five feet from the beach and the unloading gate opened. The poor souls who rushed out first were blown to smithereens. Yells of pain, and anger flowed over the beach.
Com jumped over the edge of the boat hoping to find an escape in the water. He sunk when it turned out to be deeper then he anticipated. The water was cold and sent shivers deep into his bones. His gear pulled him down but he managed to struggle above the water and out onto the beach.
The first sound he heard was Millers yell. "MOVE GODDAMNIT GO GO Go!!".
There was a rain of gunfire and grenades from the enemy. The sand around the two Rangers exploded and flew through the air. Both ignored the flying ground as best they could. The remainder of the men from the company looked towards the Captain for guidance. Miller signaled to the men trying to regroup them.
Miller jerked his hand towards a high cliff. "THERE! THERE! HOOKS THERE! FIRE SQUAD, THOSE ROCKS!" He yelled angrily.
The men obeyed and fired, while some threw grappling hooks up against the cliff. The trek up would bring them into German territories but everyone knew their mission. Com swung his M1 across his back and scaled the wall with men following. Fire hit the rocks around them and a sharp piece struck him in the face. A blood welled then spilled in a streak that divided his nose in half. When Com reached the top of the incline he quickly rubbed his shoulder against the gash and pinned down along with the other waiting soldiers.
The Captain joined him and looked around for a route. The older man looked around and saw a ledge that offered something of a protective over hanging. "That's where we go." He motioned toward it. Miller called out names and motioned the men on.
The soldiers tried their bests not to get hit as they sprinted pell-mell towards the ledge.
"That's one damned shooting gallery sir!" Com yelled at his captain.
"Its nothing compared to North Africa, you remember that mess?" Miller called back in that nonchalant way of his.
"Course I do. We practically died. Hard to forget something like that. Wouldn't you say?"
"That was when we got that that damn medal wasn't it?."
"It gives you permission to talkback." Com said pointedly.
"It never stopped you!" Miller called and ended the banter.
The three of the six men that ran before Com were shot before he even got to the walkway. Miller motioned for Jackson, a tall, lanky blond, Alabama boy who usually palled around with Com, to come forward.
"Jackson pick off a few will you?" The Captain asked waved his hand towards the German position.
"You betcha, Captain." Jackson said his voice carrying a thick accent. The Captain turned to the next six and yelled "GO!!"
They sprinted through the ledge but the Germans downed them before they could get across. Miller, Jackson and Com took a collective breath as they ran forward into the mess.
The three of them miraculously made it out alive and rushed towards a large brick wall where the three survivors of the second run stood waiting. The machine gun fire that antagonized them previously thudded against the wall. Miller turned and scanned the remaining faces and nodded with a satisfied frown.
"Reiben and Sarge, get ready to go out and fire. Jackson you see that crater over there," He pointed," it will give you shelter from that machinegun. Go there."
The men nodded and got into position.
"GO!" Miller yelled. And with that, Jackson took off long legs propelling him forward as Reiben and Sarge provided covering fire. Jackson jumped into the crater and the German gun turned on Sarge and Rei. Miller acted quickly. He stepped out into the open and the target was too good to pass up. The gunner swung the gun towards the Captain and fired. Com's hand grabbed his collar and yanked him back behind the safety of the wall just as the bullets thudded into the dirt where he had been standing. The older mans boot wasn't as lucky. Its heel was blown clean off.
"Damn it Captain!" Com swore angrily.
Sarge a older man with short grey brown hair, turned on him and bellowed. "CAPTAIN, IF YOUR MOTHER SAW YOU DO THAT, SHE'D BE VERY UPSET!"
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY MOTHER!" Miller laughed. He unusually talkative.
"Captain you're an idiot. What the hell were you thinking?!" Com scolded, relief filling his body now that the moment's danger was over.
Richard Reiben, one of the companies B.A.R. gunners pulled a grenade from his arsenal and chucked it at the machinegun. It blew and the danger was no more. Com turned to the small dark-haired Italian and gave him a smile. "Good to see you to Com." The fiery man smirked.
As they neared the German bunker Com noticed the last man in small the group. The happy go lucky medic gave him a smile. Miller turned to him and motioned to the quiet soft spoken man. "Ok, Wade, your turn."
"Captain, I love it when you say that." Wade laughed joyfully, happy to finally be filling one of his jobs. He pulled a satchel of explosions from his bag and ran towards the bunkers throwing the satchel charges into the machinegun ports.
The roar of the gun died down and Com looked over towards the beach. The sand was died crimson and the water was saturated with the same rusty color. Bodies were strewn across the beach. Some were torn to pieces while others were whole, as if they died in their sleep. He frowned as misery washed over him once more. Sarge Horvath joined him and put a heavy hand on his shoulder and pulled him away from the grisly seen. Miller turned and led the men towards the Americans.