I introduced a new concept to my story writing. Hope you enjoy ~ IceColdSoDa94

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Saving Private Ryan... although i wish i did :


His pencil scratched around upon the printed paper as Upham marked the map. Unsure as to how or why he had got here. He continued labouring however, muted and vigilant to the smallest detail of his map marking. Marking continuously throughout the small amount of days he was stationed at Omaha beach.

Three long days had passed since the blood bath of D-day and now a small base had been formed.

Upham sighed, massaging his fingers as he completed yet another map. Among the chaos and the terror, Upham's life had had no significant change apart from the distinctive change in environment; Upham had produced maps for a quantity of his young life.

In the abysmal deeps of his heart, Upham longed for excitement and adventure. He recalled joining the forces for these reasons only to wind up partaking in the humdrum in a more breakneck environment. He was sure that somewhere along the line he actually partook in an adventurous mission although he didn't trust this feeling. He was sure it was just one of his school boy like whimsies that had seeped into reality when sleep had deserted him during the cold long nights.

However, when he was able to snatch a few hours of rest they were tainted by the horror of the dream world. Dreams that would summon the deepest darkness fears that lurked in the shadows of Upham's mind and drag them into the spotlight. There they would taunt him causing him to wake suddenly, heart rushing and mind racing.

The monsters that haunted the young males mind would not be classed as the monsters you and I have known to fear, Upham's mind worked differently. Every night a young woman would haunt him. Teasing him with minuscule pieces of vital information. Upham had grown too loath the young woman that recurrently appeared in his slumber every night, He concluded that she was just a figure of his vivid imagination.

His train of thought soon came to a halt however when an authoritative voice beckoned him forward.

"I'm looking for Corporal Timothy Upham E."

Immediately Upham jumped to his feet, Scurrying over to the captain whom had just entered the small station.

"I-I'm Upham s-sir…." He stuttered, saluting in his school-boyish manner. If anything, Upham had concluded he looked more like a boy scout than a soldier. He could barely carry his equipment. He admired the soldiers and the way they would sling their packs and rifles over one shoulder lazy, trekking about in their tall muddy boots.

The tall, authoritive Captain raised a brow.

"I hear you speak French and German? You've been assigned to me, get your bags."

Upham froze "But I haven't fired a weapon since basic training sir"

Captain Miller looked at him "Did you fire the weapon in basic training?"

"Y-yes sir..."

"Well then get your gear"

Immediately Upham panicked, rushing over to his bags and in doing so knocked the sheld down. He looked up at the Captain biting his lip before grabbing in desperation for the helmets and items upon the floor.

Captain Miller chuckled "Is that a souvenir son?"

The young corporal flushed grabbing the correct helmet. "Can I take my typewriter?"

Captain Millers face dropped as he held up a small pencil. Nervously Upham burbled on about his book to the Captain as he walked off to retrieve his gear.

Something nagged at him in the back of his mind, he wasn't quiet sure what had come over him… but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't right.