Author's Note: This little flick was on the spur of the moment. Hetalia has a lot to do with WW2 and Alfred looks like a soldier in the air force. But honestly? I thought it would be interesting to see him serve with the armed forces on D-Day, because the landings on Omaha beach (among the other beaches of Normandy) were probably one of the bloodiest moments for the American forces during WW2. That and I also watched Saving Private Ryan the night before Memorial Day. SO SAD! But such a good movie! WATCH IT.
Anyways, that's the story behind the story. Cheers!
Alfred F. Jones sat down in a ragged heap after a long day's training on the beaches of the British isles. When he had signed up for the 29th Infantry Division, he hadn't realized what their assignments were. Training for months and months on end, learning how to maneuver when storming a beach wasn't exactly his idea of fun. But this was war, gosh darn it! He knew there was a lot at stake here, so he kept "a stiff upper lip," as the Brits would say, and did his best to take the imaginary bunker that they were capturing during training.
"Good golly, I need a drink," he muttered. There was a pub nearby, if he remembered correctly. With a "heave ho!" he rose to his feet and decided to change into cleaner clothes before going out. Of course, that only meant a cleaner t-shirt, pants and army jacket, but hey. It was better than walking around in dirt and sweat.
The pub was extremely full. Many of his fellow Americans as well as other men from different countries had the same idea as he to get some refreshments after a long day's training. Fortunately for him, Alfred was able to squeeze his way up to the bar and ordered his beverage.
"Scotch. On the rocks," he ordered. He sat on a stool and leaned on the bar. He took a breath and let it out slowly. Yes, although it was loud in here, he felt relaxed. He was able to just sit and slowly sip his drink with no one yelling at him, no worries of having to be alert in case officers shouted any more orders. He had to admit, sometimes fighting for one's freedom and countrymen took it out of you.
"Jones? Is that you?"
Alfred turned at the sound of his name. He smiled as the familiar face of his good friend came up to him at the bar.
"Well, hey Kirkland. Good to see you."
He was happy to see his close friend and brother Arthur Kirkland. The man was dressed in the proper attire for the British air force. It seemed like he also wanted to have a drink after a day of, what Alfred supposed, training for war pilots.
"This is quite a surprise. How are you doing, old fellow?" Kirkland said. The two shook hands as he sat down at the bar.
"Heh. Not bad. I'm a little beat, but who isn't? How are you?"
"Oh, I could be better. Beer, please." The bartender nodded and hurried away to get Arthur's order. Once it was before him the two men raised their glasses.
"Cheers to Churchill," Arthur said, albeit half-heartedly.
"Yeah. And whoever else." Alfred answered. The two drank in silence. It wasn't that they didn't support their leaders, but the war was leaving Arthur tired and disheartened, and Alfred wasn't too keen on it either.
"So, what brings you to my side of the pond, hm?" Arthur asked.
Alfred set his drink down. "I'm training with the 29th Infantry Division on storming the beaches of Normandy."
Arthur's eyes widened. "You don't say. You know, that's supposed to be a dangerous mission. Normandy is fully occupied by enemy forces."
"Yeah, I know. But it's important that we take those beaches. If we do, we link up our forces with yours to provide lodgment off the Bay of the Seine. I figured it's a good mission for me to help with."
Arthur shrugged. "Well, I hope it works out for all of you. We could do with your forces. Do you know when you ship out?"
"We're supposed to ship out on the fifth."
"Ah, same here."
"Where are you serving? Air force?"
"That's right," Arthur looked down at his uniform. "We'll be landing in Normandy around midnight, I'm thinking."
"We're scheduled to hit it at 6:30."
The two men fell silent after that, thinking their own thoughts about the lives that both countries had lost in this blasted war. Alfred hadn't stepped up to fight at first, but after the beloved Pearl Harbor had been bombed by the Japanese, he and his fellow Americans knew that fighting was inevitable.
"I wish I could go back to simpler times," he muttered. "Back when it was a gentleman's war. When there was still rules…"
Arthur couldn't help but smile wryly. "You can't expect everyone to hold the same morals that you do."
"Yeah, but what happened to codes of honor and things like that? I don't know. I just wish…"
"You'd rather go back to the times when weapons and medicine weren't as developed as they are now?"
Alfred shrugged. "I'm just saying foolish talk. Just spouting things out of my head."
"Well that's dangerous, isn't it?" the Brit joked.
Alfred smiled. "One thing I do know, my friend. I'll be dead before I see men like Hitler cross over the pond and get to my people."
"That makes two of us."
Their drinks were soon finished, and Arthur had to get back to his base.
"I'll see you around. Try not to die, all right?"
"Yeah, well take care of yourself. I don't need a big brother babysitting me any more."
Arthur smirked. "Thank God for that."
The two saluted each other and Arthur left.
…
The call to arms was sounded early in the morning and Alfred along with the rest of his countrymen leaped out of their beds to gear up for the coming day. Alfred pulled on his pants, threw on a shirt and jacket and grabbed his gear, which included his weapons, his pack and his helmet.
As he put on a heavier jacket (to guard against extreme weather) and strapped the pack to his back, while walking out of his tent, he noticed one of his fellow soldiers with his head bowed and holding a small booklet. He was standing in front of a nearby tent.
Alfred walked up to him. "Put in a good word for me?" he asked.
The man looked up and smiled. "I'll be sure to." He bowed his head again and after a moment, he looked back at Alfred.
"Well," he said. "It's going to be quite a day, I'm thinking."
"That it is." The two men began walking. Everyone was gearing up the same way and heading to armored vehicles or walking towards the British beaches. Alfred and his new friend decided to walk. He glanced over at the man and noted his weapon.
"Sniper rifle?"
The man nodded. "That's right. They say I have a gift for it." He shrugged. "I suppose I might, not that I enjoy killing or anything."
Alfred shook his head. "I wish others were more like you."
"Well, in the words of General Lee, 'It is well that war is so terrible - lest we should grow too fond of it'."
Alfred smiled. He was beginning to like this guy. "I'm Alfred Jones." He held out his hand.
The man shook it. "Robert. Robert E. Lee Reynolds at your service."
"Ah, so you're named after him?"
"I am a Virginia man, after all."
That makes sense. "So, Bobby Lee, what's all that about?" He gestured to the Bible in the man's hand.
"Well, I figured it wouldn't hurt to have Someone of higher power on my side." He grinned.
"You think He's on your side even though you take out people with that sniper rifle?"
Robert nodded, understandingly. "I think the Lord knows we're fighting for a good cause, and against a maniac. Whatever Hitler is, he is not of God."
"It would be scary if he was!" Alfred exclaimed. They neared the shoreline and stared at the British landing crafts that they were to board. Alfred turned to Robert.
"So, are you of this division?"
"Yes I am," the man responded. "Part of the 29th Infantry Division, along with many other of my Virginian and Southern brothers." He glanced at Alfred.
"You from the South?"
Alfred chuckled a little as the boarded their landing craft. "No, but I thought I would sign up for this division anyway."
Robert's eyes widened. "Can you do that?"
Alfred shrugged. "Well, I don't know. I guess they let me, anyway."
"Oh. You must be someone of importance?"
Alfred couldn't help but smile. "You could say that."
Robert nodded. As they sat in the landing craft, about to ship out, Alfred leaned over.
"But even if I am someone important, I'm not right now. I'm just an ordinary soldier willing to serve his country."
Robert shrugged. "Well, it's good to have you aboard, sailor!" he joked.
The two laughed.
…
"Bad news, boys," one of the officers said. "This storm is getting worse and worse. Looks like we won't be able to land until tomorrow."
Alfred inwardly groaned. Being cramped in this tight boat along with several other men while being sprayed with sea water and being tossed about by the waves was not something he'd want to experience for an entire day. He looked over at Robert. The man looked a little green around the gills.
"You doing okay, buddy?" he shouted.
The man feebly smiled. "Oh yeah. Just peachy." He began to vomit over the side of the boat.
Alfred sympathetically patted him on the back. "Hang in there, man. Want some water?"
Robert was handed a canteen and he tried to take a sip, but even the water made him queasy.
"Uurg, maybe that's not the best idea," he moaned.
"Yeah, guess not." Alfred watched as many other fellow soldiers were fighting against seasickness. The boats continued to be tossed by the waves and all Alfred could see were grey skies and the splashing, foamy ocean. He tasted the salt on his lips and did his best to wipe the seawater out of his eyes. They still stung. He began to hope that his provisions and weapons weren't getting too soaked. The plastic bag over his gun was hopefully doing its job. For the entire day they had to endure being rocked back and forth on the ocean. The men were trying their best to sail to the French shores, but the storm was too rough for them to get anywhere fast.
Robert had been vomiting for a good while, but soon he was able to sit back and take a moment to just relax. He leaned his shoulder slightly against Alfred's and heaved a sigh.
"Do you mind?" he asked hoarsely.
"Naw. Try to take it easy." Alfred bowed his head and stared at his boots. Even he was starting to feel a little nauseous.
"You all right?"
Alfred winced. "Dunno. Beginning to feel it now."
Robert groaned. "Please don't. If you start, I'm gonna start again."
Alfred couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe we could start a chorus or something."
"Uhhhhh…"
Several men were leaning over the side of the boat or just vomiting in their laps. Fortunately, the smell of the salty sea washed away that nasty smell. Alfred had to lift his head to inhale the smell of the ocean before he got any sicker.
This tormenting ordeal lasted all throughout the day and into the night. The ocean water filled the landing crafts and some of the men had to bail the water out of the tanks with their helmets. Robert was still feeling too sick to move, so Alfred used both his and Robert's helmets to bail. Soon he was soaked to the skin with his hair plastered to his face. He spat out the salty taste in his mouth and squinted his eyes. The stinging was getting worse. He looked over to his friend and saw him wiping vomit mixed with ocean water from his mouth.
"You making it?" he shouted.
Robert coughed. "Uhhhh. I wish we could just get there. Lord, give me strength," he muttered.
Alfred had to agree. They had all be rearing to go. They weren't excited, just full of adrenaline. Everyone knew that this mission was going to be hard, maybe even their last, but they weren't backing down. They were ready to face it, and this delay was leaving them all discouraged.
…
They could see the shores by the first light of dawn. The sky was still overcast and the water was still extremely choppy, but they had made it. They were about to land on Normandy. Alfred and Robert's tank was a part of the troops that were to land on the Omaha beach. Alfred could see the two casemates where the enemies were stationed. He could see the beach lined with several German beach obstacles sticking up every which way. This was it. There was no going back.
The commander of their tank stood up from his perch and shouted, "All right men! Thirty seconds till landing! God be with you all!"
Alfred's heart raced. He could hear the captain in charge of their tank shouting orders. Get to the shore. Make your way to the dunes and sea wall. Save ammo if possible. Stay alive.
Robert gripped his sniper rifle.
"'For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways…'" he muttered.
Alfred took one final sip from his canteen. He placed his helmet on his head and gripped his gun.
"'Thou shalt not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day…'"
A nearby LCVP sank from too much water and men. Alfred could hear them screaming. Robert closed his eyes for a moment.
"'Into Thy hands, I commend my spirit…'"
The tank's ramp was lowered into the ocean.
Alfred watched as almost all of the men in front of him were wiped out in seconds. Blood sprayed the sides of the tank. He felt someone grip his arm and he dashed past the bodies and tumbled into the sea water only to find that he couldn't rise up out from the waves. The pack upon his back which hadn't felt too heavy starting out was now weighing him down. He struggled frantically. Men in front of him were riddled with bullets and the water began to turn red. A sharp pain tore through his upper right arm and he turned to see red seeping out. He had been shot.
A hand gripped his left arm and he was tugged out from the undertow, pack and all. Robert was next to him, gripping his jacket sleeve and Alfred bent down to retrieve his helmet. Blood mixed with water streamed down his face when he put it back on. The two men struggled to get ashore, dodging bullet after bullet. Both kept their backs hunched over until they reached a beach obstacle where they sat for a moment. The sound of bullets ricocheting off of the metallic obstacles was deafening.
All around them, men were getting massacred. A nearby tank was blown up with men still inside and the smell of burning flesh soon permeated the air. Alfred wanted to vomit. A nearby man was lying in a pool of blood. One was struggling to crawl onward with his insides hanging out. There were dead men everywhere. In that moment, Alfred felt real, potent fear. There was no thinking. No reasoning behind this. The only thought on his (and every man's) mind was to survive.
He had lost his weapon when he had nearly drowned and dodged from behind the beach obstacle to fetch one from a nearby body. Several men were trying their best to make it further, but few succeeded. Everything was beginning to saturate with blood.
Robert smacked Alfred's good arm. "We have to keep moving!" he shouted. He pointed to several men bunched up by a few beach obstacles. The captain was there as well. There were orders shouted to clear the beach and get up to the dunes and sea wall. They had to make way for the reinforcements that were coming.
Alfred heaved a breath and nodded. Then the two men ran for it. They did their best to weave back and forth hunched over as machine guns hammered away at them and their fellow soldiers. Many continued to fall down dead. Screams were heard everywhere. A bullet grazed Alfred's face and he saw Robert flinch from a shot to the leg. Nearby medics dodged bullets as well as they tried to assist their fallen comrades. But the beach cliffs were a long way off and Alfred was beginning to fear that he wouldn't make it. Many times the ground in front of him would explode before his eyes and he would be blinded by the sand and dirt for a moment. His wet and heavy uniform and pack weighed him down and he stumbled many times. Once he tumbled into a hole in the sand made from the explosions. He continually suffered shots to his limbs and even once in his side, but he would not stop. Stopping meant death for sure. He lost sight of Robert for a minute, but there was no time to stop and call for him. He just hoped and even prayed that his friend would make it to the sea wall.
Alfred almost cried for joy when his back hit the blessed sea wall that stood between him and imminent death. Now he had a chance. He looked to see that he was near his commanding officer who was trying his best to rally the other men. There were calls for bombs and heavy guns so that they could attack the enemy up above and blast the thick wall of barbed wire in front of them. That's when Alfred spotted a well-known sniper rifle.
"Hey!" he hollered. He crawled past the other soldiers who were either shot down or shooting and reached his friend.
Robert looked relieved to see him. "Praise the Lord! You made it, Alfred!"
"Thank God you made it!" he shouted back. "We'll need your 'gift,' as they say!"
Robert nodded. He readied his weapon and took position, peering through the scope on his rifle.
"The Lord is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped'." He breathed out a passage from Psalms before firing at soldiers that were positioned by open machine guns. Alfred could have sworn he saw a German soldier fall down dead. Several other soldiers were throwing grenades up into the casement on the left and explosions deafened all other sound. Fire erupted from inside the casement.
Suddenly one of the medics came up to Alfred. "You're bleeding! Let me see!" he hollered.
Alfred paused his own assault of grenade-throwing and let the man look him over. Both his arms and legs had been shot in various places.
"Nothing too serious. Mainly flesh-wounds. You're lucky!" he exclaimed as he made quick work of bandaging him up.
"It was Providence!" Robert hollered as he fired another shot.
"Luck. Providence. All the same, he's still with us and that's what's important!" The medic said.
He went ahead and tended to Robert's wounds as best as he could while the man continued firing.
Several officers ran up, bearing long explosives. The cries of "Bangalores!" were heard followed by "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" and all the men covered their heads as the torpedoes exploded. After a minute or two of more firing and bombing the right casement from above, their captain signaled to them.
"All right, men! We have a clearing! Do your best to get behind these casements! Now Go! Go!"
Alfred and Robert were among the small group of men that began climbing up the wall and began charging past the casements. The German soldiers continued to reign bullets down upon them, sending men and sand flying. Alfred gritted his teeth as his legs screamed out in pain while he climbed up the sandy wall. He watched as Robert began to pick off the German snipers up above that were in the open. The men struggled for a minute or so until they were able to get to the side of the casement on the right. They rested their backs against the wall and cautiously peered over to the side. Up higher on the cliffs a little further away along the dirt road, they could see a fortified casement still showering down bullets and explosives. If they could gun down the shooters, even for a second, they would have a chance to dash up the cliffs and overtake the enemies that lurked beyond.
"All right, open fire!" the captain shouted.
"Open fire!" Alfred hollered. He and his fellow soldiers took aim and began shooting the German soldiers up in the casement. They took rounds. For each three men that spent their cartridges, three men replaced them. As Alfred and some of the other soldiers fired at the Germans, several other fellow soldiers scrambled past them to run up the rocky hill and onto the roads. Robert slid up beside Alfred.
"Holding up all right?" he shouted.
"Yeah! You?" Alfred reloaded.
"I can't complain! Well… that is…"
Alfred couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah. I hear you!"
He fired another round and then gestured to the road ahead.
"You'd better get a move on!" he shouted.
Robert nodded and ran ahead. After a few more shots, Alfred leapt to his feet and followed. They continued to inch closer to the top of the cliffs, dodging past rocks and bullets while bounding along. Alfred dove behind a boulder next to Robert and saw the man aiming at the soldiers up above. Every time he aimed to take a shot, he breathed a passage from Scripture or a prayer and every time, he hit someone. Once he hit the wall which caused a couple of men to fall over the side. The men were slowly making their way onto the enemy's side of the beach and were beginning to see a symbolic light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.
Alfred heard someone scream "We're in business!" and many more fellow soldiers began charging up along the roads. Alfred could see several German soldiers scrambling to get to different bunkers. He spotted a tunnel below him and decided to clear the area down there. He gestured to Robert and some other men and a group of at least six decided to jump down into it. An injured man was crouched down against the tunnel wall and warned them that German soldiers with heavy artillery were further in. Alfred could hear the shots ricocheting off of the walls.
He peered over the side of a corner and sustained a shot to the shoulder.
"Sniper!" he exclaimed. "Bobbie!"
"Gotcha!" Robert knelt down and cautiously edged his gun past the corner. They could hear him mutter,
"'My times are in Your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors'."
With one shot, the German man fell down dead. Robert waved his hand in the signal to move. The rest of them charged through the tunnels and ran across several enemies. One fired a shot at Alfred and he fired back, killing the man. When the men began running out of ammo, they used the butts of their guns as melee weapons. The tunnel was soon clear and the men slowed down to a jog.
"How's everyone doing?" Alfred called.
The other soldiers answered that they weren't too worse for wear. Some were limping, others were worse off, but none were mortally wounded or dead. As they slowly climbed up the stairs that led outside, Robert tapped Alfred on the shoulder.
"Let's be careful," he warned.
Alfred nodded and he cautiously inched upwards.
When they reached the outside again, they were greeted with the sight of many German soldiers raising their hands in surrender. The calls of cease fire were shouted all around and the Americans stopped their shooting and pointed their guns at the Germans.
The captain of their troop ran up to them as they exited the tunnel with a few choice words.
"What do you think you guys were doing? Next time you go plunging into something without knowing what's under there you ask me first! You hear me?"
Alfred saluted. "It was my fault, sir! I saw an injured soldier in there and I decided to help him, sir!"
The captain walked up to him. "Jones, right?"
Alfred nodded. "Yes sir!" He removed his helmet and shoved the hair out of his eyes.
"Hold on," he squinted. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pair of semi-cracked spectacles. "I can see you better if I have these on."
The captain gaped. "You mean to tell me, Jones, that you were fighting partially blind back there?"
"I'm only near-sighted, sir!"
"You sunova-!"
"Looks like the Lord really was on your side, Alfred!" Robert exclaimed, patting his friend on the shoulder.
The captain just shook his head. "Well, boys, we've gained this ground, but there's still a long ways to go yet so get some rest for however long you can! There should be more men coming with provisions soon! Good work!"
The captain ushered for Alfred to follow him over to a fallen armored vehicle. All around, German soldiers were being led to where they would be placed under secure watch.
He leaned against the vehicle and folded his arms as he stared at Alfred. "Your name's Jones? Alfred Jones?"
"Yes sir."
"There's a few Alfred Joneses in these divisions, but we had orders to look out for a specific Jones. Where are you from?"
Alfred knew the jig was up. "Washington D.C., sir."
The man nodded. "I see. Well, had I known you were going to be with us, I would have made sure you weren't put in as much danger." The man shook his head. "Mind you, I don't know how, but we would have thought of something."
Alfred smiled. "Sir, I appreciate the concern, but I have to say that I'm glad you all didn't know who I was. I came here so I could fight alongside all of you as a normal soldier. I knew full well how important and dangerous this mission was. I wanted to be a part of it and, as such, experience everything all of you experienced. It just wouldn't have sat well with me if I was sitting by the sidelines guarded by others while all of you died around me. I do apologize if I seemed out of line back there, too, sir."
The captain just sighed. "No, no need. You boys did well in that tunnel. Looks like you cleared it out. I appreciate your help, Jones, and I am privileged to have you with us. Now go get some rest."
Alfred saluted. "Sir, thank you, sir!"
He walked back to where the other men were relaxing either on the ground or on rocks, drinking out of their canteens. He saw Robert with his head bowed and sat down next to him. When Robert raised his head, Alfred spoke.
"Well, we made it through this day," he sighed.
"Praise the Lord," Robert breathed. He gently laid down his gun and removed his helmet. "So. Alfred, what did the captain want?"
"Asked me where I was from. Seems he found out that I'm not from good ol'Virginia."
"Ah. You're not in trouble, are ya?"
Alfred shook his head. "Nah. He was a bit anxious that I hadn't been looked after during the invasion, though."
Robert stared at him. "You really are someone of importance, ain't you?"
Alfred ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah…"
Robert shrugged. "Well, if you don't wanna talk about it, that's all right."
"My sister lives in Virginia, if that's anything," Alfred said sheepishly.
Robert chuckled. "She's smart. Virginia's the best place on God's green land!"
"It used to be a problem between her and me, actually," Alfred muttered, smiling wryly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking aloud. Well, Bobbie Lee, looks like we've got a long night ahead of us and a long day tomorrow. Let's relax while we can."
"Agreed. Thank you, Lord, that we were able to make it through that long, hard ordeal this morning!"
As they sat up and walked towards a group of men who were being tended to by medics, Robert looked at Alfred.
"I'm glad I got to meet ya, Alf."
Alfred grinned. "I'm glad I got to meet you too, Bobbie Lee!"
…
Alfred and the 29th Infantry Division continued on through Normandy in an attempt to take it from the Germans. Their division sustained many losses as they traveled into the French countryside past the Elle River, into Saint-Lô. They were reassigned to different corps units as their mission went deeper into France. It was during the battle for the city of Vire that Alfred sadly saw the death of his friend Robert E. Lee Reynolds. He had been up in a tower when a German sniper took him unawares. Alfred found his body when the battle was over and he was given a moment to bury him.
When the war was finally over and he was able to go back home, he took the time to visit his sister in Virginia and there he met the family of the man who, even though he had only known him for a short while, had affected him deeply. He had grown to respect the Virginian. When he visited Robert's family, he discovered that he had been engaged to a young woman and he decided to go and pay his respects. He gave her the Bible that Robert had been holding as well as a letter that was addressed to her that he had found on Robert's body. She had thanked Alfred tearfully, but still smiled when Alfred told her how he had grown to see Robert as a friend.
"I will see him again. He may no longer be here on Earth, but now he's somewhere even better," she said through her tears. "Thank you, Mr. Jones. It was a pleasure to meet you. God bless you!"
Alfred had heard that many times. God Bless America… But for the first time, that saying really hit home to him. As he walked back to his car away from Robert's fiancé's home, he looked up to the sky.
God… If You can hear me, I just wanna say… Thank You. Thank You for men like Robert and thank You that we won the war.
With that, he drove away, back to his house at the capital of his land, ready to discuss with his bosses the plans of what to do about the upcoming months of rebuilding a nation that had just gone through a depression and a world war. He hoped that the future would be somewhat peaceful with no more trouble from any neighboring countries. Whatever the future held, though, Alfred F. Jones would not forget what he had experienced on that fateful June morning; the day that would be known as D-Day. Nor would he forget men like the Captain and men like Robert E. Lee Reynolds who stood for all those who were willing to sacrifice their lives for freedom and for their land. It was strong men like those who had charged head-first into the Jaws of Death that morning that gave America strength.