Chapter One: Omaha
Patrick Holton swore under his breath as he began to wring out his sleeves. Five minutes into this thing and they were already drenched.
"When I enlisted, I thought I joined the Army not the Navy!" yelled one private.
"Yeah, well I didn't ask for this!" shouted another. These guys never did know when to shut up.
One small private stood looking over the edge. "They ain't firing on us…think they're all dead, Sarge?"
"I hope not!" Caparzo: one of the loudmouths in the company. If he had any fear, he never learned how to show it. "I've been waiting a long time to get these Krauts; don't tell me the fucking Air Force took them all out!"
"Naw, they're still alive…and saving their bullets especially for you." Caparzo began to laugh; Holton did not even crack a smile. He began to pick at the plastic surrounding his rifle. Nervous habit.
"Thirty seconds!"
"Alright, listen up!" the Lieutenant's voice fell on deaf ears, most were too out of it to pay attention. "The machine guns are going to be right on us. Get out fast!"
Holton cleared his throat. Might as well try to talk to them. "Do not stay in one place long, keep moving. No doubt their mortars are zeroed in on us." It fell silent again…except for prayers. Holton did not say one; he had prayed plenty before they left. Besides, he probably could not think of one if he tried.
"You got a smoke, Red?" Caparzo leaned over.
He managed to smile. "How you planning on lighting it, Carp?"
"I don't need it lit; I just want one in my mouth."
Holton shook his head as he grabbed one out quick. "You Italians, you're all crazy."
"Yeah, well you Germans ain't any better." Caparzo motioned to the beach.
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
"Amen." Caparzo replied as he stuck the cigarette in his mouth. The landing craft slowed down. "Here goes nothing."
The door began to open and Holton drew in his breath. A wall of bullets rushed in killing the first rows of men, including the Lieutenant.
"Shit." Holton looked around. "Everyone in the channel!" Men began to climb over into the water, which was bound to be deep.
"I can't swim!"
"You ain't bulletproof either! In the water!" Holton was a big guy, standing over six feet, and had no problem grabbing the scrawny Ranger and tossing him into the water. He grabbed his rifle and dived in head first. Bad idea. For a few seconds, he sat in the water disoriented. By the time he made it to some relative cover behind an obstacle, most of his gear and his rifle were missing. There he sat trying to catch his breath.
A familiar rifle made its way to the corner of his eye.
"Jackson!" The company sniper made his way over to Holton, diving for cover just behind him. "You seen anyone?"
"No one. I don't even know where I am."
"We're in France."
"If you say so." It was now that Jackson finally gave Holton a once over. "What happened to you?"
"Forgot my stuff on the ship." Jackson nodded as someone else came crashing down in front of them. The man did not carry a rifle but a camera instead. They watched him squirm for a few moments.
"Who the hell are you?" Holton asked. The man jumped. He did not know anyone was there.
He looked up at them. "Terry Larson! I'm reporting on the invasion!"
"Right…" Holton looked over at the pillboxes. "Think you can shoot them, Jackson?"
"Nope."
"Didn't think so." Holton sighed. "Alright, we need to get to the sea wall. Dead run, straight to it. We stop, we never get there."
Jackson nodded. "Larson, you're coming with us." The photographer looked at the two like they were crazy.
"No thanks! I'll stay here! I don't want the camera to get damaged!"
"It ain't the camera you should be worried about." Holton grabbed Larson's shirt. "Let's go!" The three ran down the beach along with a few others. They passed by several dead and wounded ones, not bothering to stop. If they did, they would never make it off the beach.
They hit the ground hard just as bullets began to kick up the sand around them.
Holton rolled over. "I think we broke the record for the fifty yard dash." He looked over at Jackson. He had pulled out his cross. "No problems?"
"Yeah. No problems." Jackson looked around at the other men lining the sea wall. "Anyone see a Captain 'round here?!"
"He's that way!" Someone pointed down the line.
Holton smiled. "Wanna go for it?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope." Jackson sighed. He stood and began to run down the line with Holton and Larson in tow. They found familiar faces and crashed in the sand next to them.
"Jackson here!"
"Holton here!" Captain Miller looked over at them.
"Where's the Lieutenant?"
"Never left the boat, sir." Holton replied picking up a rifle from the sand. He'd wonder who's it was later.
"And the radio?"
"Right next to him."
"Figures." Miller whispered to himself. He began to look around. "Bring up some bangalores!"
"I thought you were dead!" Holton turned to the man he crashed next to.
He smiled. "Nah, they can't kill me. But you, Caparzo…I've never seen anyone move so fast in my life."
"What can I say…I love to swim." More men began to pile up on the sea wall as the grenades were being put into place. Holton looked over at Larson. He had the camera up and was taking pictures.
"What are you looking at?" He pointed down the beach.
"Isn't that your friend?" Holton looked in the direction he was pointing and the smirk on his face faded. Jackson had moved. He was now on the beach helping someone who had been hit.
"Jackson, what the hell are you doing?!" He watched in half horror, half amazement as Jackson managed to drag the man to cover. "Crazy bastard."
"Fire in the hole!" Someone shouted. Holton looked over at Larson, who was still taking pictures. He grabbed the man's shirt again and pulled him into the sand.
"Get down you idiot!" Larson squirmed more as sand blasted over them.
"Defilade, other side of the hole!" Men began to scramble over the sand only to meet more machine gun fire.
"Stay here!" Holton shouted as he ran over with the others. Larson could not agree more. He did not move from that spot until the shooting had ended.
Holton hit the side of the pillbox hard. Jackson ran up next to him.
"What the hell were you thinking, Jackson?" Holton asked turning to the sniper. "You want to be a hero or something?"
"That's the thing, I wasn't thinking."
Holton rolled his eyes. "Well don't do it again. I lose you, it's just me and the damn city boys."
Jackson smiled. "Oops."
"Holton, up front!" shouted Miller. Holton managed to make his way over to them without stepping on all the soldiers bunched up in front of the pillbox.
"Sir!"
"Holton, you see that defilade there?" Miller pointed down below the machine gun nests.
"Yes sir."
"Alright, wait for the covering fire, and then move these boys over there. Try to suppress them so we can get out of here." Holton nodded. "Covering fire!" The group of soldiers opened up on the nest.
Holton began to push the group of privates through. "Let's go! C'mon!" They made their way down to the small bit of defilade and began to fire on the Germans. No one hit anything, though Holton managed to knock one of the German's helmets off.
"Why don't we use grenades, Sarge?"
"Because if you hit the sandbags, it'll just end up right on top of us." Holton replied. He looked at the private. "And I am not willing to die for my country that way." The boy shut up and began to fire again.
Something ran past the group. Holton smiled.
'They're going to get it now.' He thought. The group's fire increased as Germans fell before them. Men that were already dead ended up with a few more bullet holes.
"Cease fire!" Holton shouted. "Cut it out, they're dead! Up the hill, let's go!" Some responded by finishing up their clips in the Germans. Holton grabbed one of them by the collar. "Move it!" He could not blame them for putting extra rounds in the enemy but he was not going to tolerate it.
Just as Holton got to the top, he saw the pillbox next to them explode into flames.
"Now we're getting somewhere." He jumped into a German trench and began to fire on the other side. Then, his rifle jammed.
"Shit." Holton began to work on it but to no avail. He climbed out of the trench in search of another. Surprisingly, there was none so Holton stood back and watched his boys take care of the rest.
Captain Miller stood off to the side, trying to talk through the small radio. He waved Holton over.
"Sergeant, you did a good job today. We're gathering up the German prisoners, I'd like you to watch over them. They're going to be behind that pillbox there." Miller pointed to the nearest one.
"Sir, I don't have a weapon."
Miller sighed. "Well, there's plenty on the beach."
"Yes sir." Holton walked down the hill onto the beach. Medics flew from one patient to the other, trying to save as many as they could until the ships got closer. Wade was one of them. He had a kind of courage that Holton knew he could never have. He thanked God everyday for people like Wade.
There was a rifle right next to his feet. Holton got down to pick it up but stopped and looked around.
Someone came up behind him. "Mighty fine battle, wasn't it?"
It was Larson.
"Yeah…sure." Bodies littered the beach, their blood collecting into rivers to fill the already red channel. Fine wasn't the word he'd use to describe it. Massacre seemed more appropriate.
He prayed to God that this would be worth it.
Okay, this is my first story. I hope it goes over well. I really hated writing the first chapter but it needed to be done. Hopefully the others are better. Please review my paper. I need advice, I'm not good at this.