Disclaimer: This is going to be a shock, but I don't own Aliens or Predator.
Chapter One
Life aboard the LST wasn't a grand one. A soul could get real bored real fast. And for Private Jeffrey Miller life aboard the sea was just that. Boring.
When he had first heard about joining the marines from the marine recruiter in high school, he couldn't wait to enlist. He had signed up and joined as soon as of he was of age, joining the recently formed 5th Marine Division in September 1944. After going through a few months of training Miller was ready for combat.
He had heard about the brave tales of Marines fighting in jungles all throughout the pacific. He heard about such individuals such as John Basilone, who during an attack by the Japanese during the Battle of Guadalcanal held of for two days against the slanted eyes before being relived. He also heard about the Battle of Saipan and how the Japanese used civilians as human bombs. But where they were going they wouldn't need to worry about civilians.
Their destination was Iwo Jima, 21 square kilometers of nothing but ugly smelly volcanic rock and sand. Its latest occupants, the Japanese Imperial Army, currently were garrisoned their with an estimated 20 thousand troops. Each one ready to die in the name of their homeland.
Miller and the Marines of 5th, 4th and 3rd Divisions had been sent in part of a allied assault to claim the island in the name of the West. The island contained airfields useful to the Americans when the inevitable attack on the Japanese mainland commenced.
The LST Miller was on was only part of a fleet of over a hundred ships all destined for the volcanic island.
Miller leaned over the guard rail and watched as the F4U Corsairs flew by low near the LST's. The other marines on the ship cheered as the aviators flew by. Miller caught sight of one waving as he passed. They were going to the island ahead of the main landing fleet to soften up defenses. Though deep down he knew the Japanese were bunkered down heavily and it would take more then a few tons of bombs to get them out of those caves.
"It's like Peleliu al over agin," he muttered to himself.
"What was that man?" He turned to spot his best friend and BAR operator Corporal Donny Eferon leaning on the rail next to him. "Oh nothing," he said, "Just saying that I feel like we are going to have to fight for every godforsaken inch of this wretched piece of rock."
Eferon smiled; he always had a habit of turning a bad situation into a good one, "Well you know what I heard Basilone is part of the attack." Miller's eyes lit up like fireworks, "Really? He's back in the service?"
Eferon nodded, "Thought that would get ya, and yeah I heard from Captain Fuller that Basilone re enlisted and got put in with the 5th. He's going to be landing right with us."
Miller idolized Basilone a lot, and he really wished he could meet his hero. But to be part of the same operation as the legendary marine was already enough.
Miller was about to ask his friend more, when the loudspeakers along the LST's mast blared to life, "Attention all Marine personnel, it is time please report to the armory and then to your assigned LVT's." The message replayed over on a loop. All the marines on deck slowly began to make their way down below to where the armory and LVT's were located.
"Come on," Eferon said motioning for Miller to follow, "It's show time." Miller smiled and nodded feebly before following his friend. To tell you the truth Miller was scared out of his mind. This would be his first taste of combat and he felt like he was going to vomit. As the two Marines fell in with the others and headed downstairs, the heavy guns on the battle ships began to open up on the island.
Ten minutes later Miller was in full combat gear. A Brown one piece jungle suit with matching trousers, a camo M1 Steel Helmet. He had combat boots with strapped up leggings to make traversing the beach easier. The M1941with all the necessities, A few MRE's, a entrenching tool blanket roll strapped on top in a horse shoe shape and strapped to the side was his trusty Ka Bar combat knife. He also carried a few pieces of paper and pencils so he could write about his experiences in combat. He was hoping to maybe make an autobiography of his life in the Corp.
In his hand he carried his weapon of choice. The M1A1 Garand. The 9.5 pound weapon was beautiful and Miller was a pretty damn good shot with it. So good in fact his superiors were thinking of buffing him up to sniper after the Iwo campaign. He would have to survive first was his first thought.
He put some extra bandoliers on his webbing next to the few grenades he had. Eferon stood in front of him. The corporal was wearing the exact same where as him but instead of a M1 he had his trusty Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR), named Lucy. The BAR was a freaking killer weapon. It could put down the suppressive fire of an entire squad of M1's. Eferon has chosen the weapon because he said he liked the way she moaned when he touched her in the right places. That had gotten a laugh from the entire squad that day.
The noise in the docking area was deafening, Miller found himself shouting to talk to his friend, "You think this will be as fast as the higher ups predicted?" Eferon shook his head, "I doubt it, they've been wrong on almost every campaign in the Pacific, but hey you never know they might just be wrong this time." The corporal smiled and made his way through the crowd of marines towards their designated LVT.
Miller smiled, "There you go, always the optimist." With that he followed after his friend.
He reached the LVT where his squad was assigned. He entered through the back and smiled upon seeing his commanding officer, Sergeant Fox. Fox was like a marine right off of a recruitment poster. He had garnered the respect of every marine that served under him, and even a few that outranked him.
"Finally Miller you're here," Fox said with a smile, "Had me worried for a second."
"Yea kid, forget to use the bathroom or something?" Said Hudson, the squads' heavy weapon specialist. He was in charge of the M1919A4 Light Machine Gun. That was powerful gun. It spewed out rounds like a wood chipper. It was so much that it took two to man it.
The other man in charge of the ammo for the gun, Private Flamer laughed at his comrades' joke. Miller knew he was the youngest and a lot of the "old breed" marines treated him like a kid. He's had his fair share of teddy bear jokes and diaper jokes. But hell he had a five o' clock shadow, which had to count for something.
"Enough, we need to focus, this is going to be a lot of you guys' first landing, and let me tell you they are no cake walk," Fox informed. Sergeant Fox was the oldest marine in the squad at thirty, and he has seen his fair share of battles on Saipan and Tinian serving with the 4th Marines before being transferred to the 5th.
It was just coincidence that the Sergeant would be serving alongside his 4th marine buddies, but this time with another unit. Besides Miller, Fox, Eferon, Flamer and Hudson, there were three other members of their squad. Private Webb, the radio operator. Corporal Coney, the squads Corpsman. And Private Dezba, the squads point man and scout. He was a Native American so he was said to have intensive training in the wilderness when he was younger. His name meant "goes to war" so he felt he should enlist when World War Two broke out. Good thing to his tracking skills were amazing.
There was another squad of marines in their LVT as well but Miller didn't know there names though he recognized some of their faces.
A voice came over the loudspeaker, "Alright Marines it is time to head to the beach, first wave is already inbound and landing as we speak," the voice said before adding, "Go give 'em hell!" A chorus of cheers greeted this.
"This is it, good luck all of you," Fox said with a smile. He really cared for all their safety.
The front doors of the LST slowly cranked open and the LST suddenly lurched forward into the rushing blue water of the Pacific. They hit the water with a vengeance before they leveled out forward and proceeded in the direction of the island.
Iwo Jima looked like it had become hell itself. Infernos dotted the massive Mount Suribachi like little candle lights. Explosions rippled the entire island as Navy battleships and Destroyers made their heavy guns known to all. The sound was near deafening. Rockets flew off of some of the LST's as they added their own fire to the mix. It was a clear day but black smoke was covering much of the sky.
Dozens of other LVT's and other landing craft headed all towards the beach. This was a massive attack indeed.
A shadow passed overhead and Miller looked up in time to spot a F4U Corsair fly over r towards the island to drop its payload.
"Bastards ain't going to know what hit them," Hudson remarked wit ha evil grin on his face.
"Navy and Air Force have been bombing the hell outta the island for weeks," Fox said turning to the group, "There shouldn't be a twig left standing by the time we land."
A few of the marines nodded in agreement. A plane suddenly flew by, it wouldn't have been any different of a plane had it not been on fire. The plane landed in the water with an explosion.
"What the hell?" a marine shouted.
"Was that one of ours?" asked Webb. A geyser of water sprouted out of the ocean near their LVT.
"Fuck! Mount Suribachi they got 200mm firing on us," Fox shouted pointing towards Mount Suribachi. The mountain had literally come alive with fire. All around them LVT's exploded; their marine passengers thrown out like rag dolls.
"Open up on them," one of the two marines operating the LVT's frontal .50 Caliber Machine Guns. They fired forward but he doubted they could hit anything from this distance.
A LVT next to them exploded in a fiery flame. "Another LVT has been hit!"
"Everyone! Keep... your... heads... down! You hear me?"
Miller dipped his head slightly. He visibly flinched every time one of the rounds would land nearby.
"15 seconds!" the driver of the LVT said as he tried to maneuver around the chaos. They went forward to the beach. They rolled up on it and Miller breathed a sigh of relief even though it wasn't over.
"Over the sides1" Fox ordered pulling himself over the side of the LVT. Miller waited patiently while the marines near him went over. One of them got hit before he could get fully over and fell back into the boat. He was gripping his leg in pain. Miller watched with a horrified expression, until Dezba grabbed him and heaved him over the edge.
Miller landed in the sand with a thud. The first thing he noticed was the bodies. They were everywhere. Some missing limbs and others just simply torn to pieces. Miller resisted the urge to heave the bile that was coming up through hi throat.
"Move forward!" somebody yelled nearby. The Private began crawling along the sandy beach. The tide washed over him and he nearly fainted when he realized the foamy part was red with blood.
He got half way up the beach and had no clue where his squad was. All around him mortars and bullets found their mark on countless marines. Miller passed a marine who was holding his innards crying out for his mother. He turned away from the sight and kept moving.
He made it to the crest of a sandbank where other marines were cresting at a slow crawl. But they were having trouble. The sand made it hard to move very fast and bullets flying all around you didn't help.
He hit the sand bank and was about to begin crawling when a mortar exploded a near him. He was thrown through the air and landed in the sand. The air had been knocked from his lungs but otherwise he was okay. He gripped the strap on his helmet as he felt it was choking him.
A marine slid in next to him shouting for him to get up, Miller never got a good look at him as the unfortunate marine got hit in the chest a second later. Miller shook off the daze and proceeded up the beach at a sprint. It was a miracle he hadn't been hit once. He sprinted over the lip of the hill and into the real battle.
Japanese pill boxes were raking marines to pieces. He witnessed an entire squad of five get slaughtered as they charged a pill box. Miller sidestepped a headless corpse and dove into a impact crater made by a mortar. He crouched down with his M1 between his legs.
He heard a sound above him and looked up just in time to see Eferon leap over him into the foxhole. The BAR firing away at the Japanese positions.
"Come on Miller," He said tugging on Millers sleeve, "Lets go!" Miller followed behind Eferon as they charged forward. They dove and weaved as bullets and mortars flew right pass them. They came to a large trench where at least a dozen marines were taking cover and firing on a concrete pill box. A Japanese Type- 99 fired out the little slit in the bunker.
Miller saw that his entire squad was here too. At least they survived. Hudson and Flamer had gotten the .50 cal set up and were firing away at the enemy position.
"Put some suppressive fire on that thing!" Sergeant Fox yelled, he turned to a marine near him with a M2 Flamethrower strapped to his back, "Private Doyle burn em out!"
"Roger sir!" The marine yelled pulling himself up and over the lip of the trench. Private Flamer began to follow him, but Doyle turned and said, "No stay here, one bullet in this and we both go up like a turkey dinner."
Flamer nodded and ducked back down. Doyle ran forward the muzzle of the M2 ready in his hands.
"Shift your fire!' Fox yelled. Miller for the first time since landing actually fired his rifle. The thing sounded beautiful as it fired its .30 rounds. Each time he fired the gun would kick up a little from recoil.
Doyle ran around to the side of the bunker and shimmied his way along the edge until he came to the firing hole. He propped the muzzle in the hole and pressed the trigger. The bunker nearly burst into flames. Miller could hear the screams of the Japanese inside as they were roasted alive.
The marines moved out of the trench and around to the sides of the bunker. Out of the bunker a few Japanese came. Some were on fire others were not, but they were all shot equally, they took no prisoners. Miller fired into the group but was unsure if he hit anything.
The marines moved pass the bunker and into another trench system. This one was much larger. They navigated the trench with Sergeant Fox in the lead. Fox fired his Thompson submachine gun at any slanted eyes they came across.
A crashed Japanese Zero lay downed about 50 yards away from the trench. A few Japanese infantry men fired on the squads' position from underneath the canopy.
They returned fire but couldn't hit anything. Fox turned to Webb, "Webb, get us a artillery strike on that position."
"Right away sir," Webb said, he went to talking on his personal radio, radioing in the coordinates.
Miller continued to fire on the position with the others. A few seconds later they heard the tell tale whistling of a mortar strike right before it found its mark on the plane. The Zero exploded into thousands of tiny pieces. And human parts also came down in a shower of splintered wood, charred flesh and blood.
"Holy shit, those Jap motherfuckers ain't going to be doing to much of anything now," Eferon boasted standing triumphant on the edge of the trench.
Fox shook his head, "No that was just the start we still got a whole lot of fighting to do."
"But we are done for now right Sarge?" inquired Flamer.
Fox smiled, "For now we can take a break, but I feel tomorrow we are going to have our hands full.
XXX
Standing atop Mount Suribachi, in the exact spot where Old Glory would be raised a few days later, a figure stood. This figure was invisible to the human eye, save for a slight ripple in the air.
He had landed on this planet not but six hours before. He had come here with the intent to hunt the small natives of the island, but was surprised when an entire fleet worth of oomans attacked the island. It appeared the small brown skinned oomans that lived here, were at war with the oomans that came in by ship.
He observed as the oomans came a shore in waves and began to assault the island. The smaller oomans defended with all their might but the other oomans had definitely gotten a foothold on the island and were now bringing in ship after ship of supplies and more men.
He smiled, to any sane being, going about hunting in a time of conflict such as this was suicide. But he was Yautja, and their culture revolved around dangerous hunts.
With a thrilled clicking the Predator went off ready to hunt its prey.
Authors Note: You might've noticed some of the Call of Duty World at War references and Flags of our Father References. I used those to try to capture the image of what a beach landing was like back during those times. Hope it worked. Please read and review.