Band of Brothers, Normandy.
Memories of Sgt. Wilson Banks, who served and fell in this great and holy crusade.
Everything was pretty damn quite in that plain; the only sounds were the planes engines going on at an unsteady rate, men praying, and the death. As you know death is not a smell, feeling, or sound, but all the men who fought in any war they would agree with me. I looked at the golden cross my mom gave to me right before I left, she said, "Keep God close, but your rifle closer." I smiled at those days. Buck was shifting uncomfortably next to me.
"Buck, calm down, were going to get through this." I assured with my hoarse voice.
Buck was the best friend I had, he was 21, nice dark brown hair, blue eyes, strong looking man with an almost rusted looking face. We knew each other from almost our childhood, we signed up for the army as soon as we heard about the war. We grew up in Michigan, and we both had a quiet appreciation for the airborne. When we signed up, we were all thinking about all the glory, valor, and sacrifices we will make in the future. We were right about one thing, sacrifices. We didn't necessarily enjoy army camp, but when we were told we were going to start training for the 101st airborne, we both had a new sense of vigor. We worked for what felt eternity, seemingly earning the chance to fight in this war.
My name was Hals Nicholas Stewarts. I was 22, short grayish hair, green eyes, strong chest and body.
I was looking so forward to this moment in camp hood, thinking it would be full of glory, valor, and vim and vigor. I looked around the plane only to see scared faces full of terror and fear. The only seemingly calm one was Sgt. Mo, as we called him. He was about 35 and had been in the airborne for a long time now, but even he knew he never witnessed anything of this scale. He had a pudgy face, blue eyes, trimmed brown hair, and a strong body. He always wore a helmet and had custom made boots.
We were sitting on this plane for hours and were starting to wonder how far "Normandy" actually was.
"We should be there by now!" Bucks said, "I didn't train all these years to sit on a plane." He finished.
"Shut ye'r yapping and calm down, were called "airborne" for a reason private." Mo said.
"But I want to kill some Huns!" Bucks said back.
"And the Huns want to kill some of us." Mo said, lighting a smoke.
"Shut up you two." Melrose said. Melrose was the leader of Dog, our group, he was kind when the chips for down but really drove your ass to the limits. He was devoted to the cause and ready to pay the ultimate sacrifice. We guessed that he was Hispanic, because of his accent and skin color, he was medium height, black hair, and never wore a helmet.
"Stay on the ball you two." He said.
I took a sigh, and calmed down, thinking of my wedding day, I was married 10 days before shipping of to basic training. My train of thought was severed by the sound of flak exploding all around our plane.
"Hear that? Those don't sound good." Melrose said.
"I don't think were going to make it!" Mo said calmly with his southern accent.
A large explosion erupted to what sounded very near us; we later found out that our engine was hit. The red light flick on, this meant to get ready to jump.
"Get ready!" Melrose said, flicking hand signs to us. We all were checking our buddy's gear one last time before we jumped. The green light flashed, Melrose was first out the door. Then it was Buck, then me. As we jumped out the plane, I realized how many there were of us, planes lit up in the sky as they screamed towards the ground. I hit the ground; god knows were, and started to unhook my shoot. I saw some movement in the bushes near to me.
"Lightning." I said.
"Flash!" came the reply, they were with the good guys.
"What group are you in?" asked one.
"Dog." I replied, looking around at my surroundings.
"I'm with Able." Said one.
"I'm with Easy. Said the other.
"What's your name private?" asked the older, and more masculine looking one.
"Hals sir." I said back.
"McCartney." Said the older one.
"Lloyd." Said the young one.
"Let's get moving, Jerry's waiting." Said McCartney.
We started to move along the woods, we felt an aurora of security being in a group.
"What's your objective?" asked McCartney.
"Taking the town codenamed 36." I said, "Have any idea were that is?" I asked.
"Hell, we don't even know if were in Normandy private." McCartney said. We trudged along trying to find something that would show us where we were.
Suddenly, a large group of men were moving along the woods.
Click-Clack. Went our grasshoppers.
Click-Clank. Came the reply.
We both met in the open.
"Any one here from Dog?" I asked.
"I am." Came a reply.
"You know a person called Buck?" I asked.
"Nope, sorry." He said back, "by the way the names Cadres." He said.
"Hals." I said shaking his hand.
"We should move together, finding other troops." Said McCartney to the head of the group.
"I agree Sgt. My objective is the town not far from here, we saw a sign just over there, so come with us, were going to need all the men we can muster.
We moved along the dirt rood until we saw the town he was talking about, It had a couple of buildings, a AA gun blazing away, and about 35 infantry and one armored car.
Luckily we could move unheard from the loudness of the AA gun.
"Well split up into 3 groups, McCartney, you chose 5 men, Ill take 8 and Bigrod, you take the rest." He said as he started to draw a plan in the dirt, "Sgt. McCartney, take your men right up the middle and secure that house and take out that car." He instructed, "Bigrod, you'll take that AA gun and destroy that buggy." He said, "Ill lead my men with McCartney and punch a hole through them. Lets go." He finished.
"Ok I want, Hals, Lloyd, you, you, and you." McCartney ordered.
Cadres was in my group.
"Hals, you got point tonight, make me proud." McCartney ordered.
"Sir." I said as I went to the edge of the thicket and gazed at the town. The Germans acted like the was didn't exist; some were playing chess, other eating, and some writing. We were about to wake them up.
I may want to stop know because in any language, it is impossible to describe war, blood, death and agony in words. I will try my best to give you a view of what we did,
Me and the rest of our squad rushed forward taking cover next to one of the four buildings. McCartney gave me a hand signal, I was going in first. I looked to see what I was up against, the odds didn't look good, but that's why were called paratroopers. I summoned up my strength and started to fire randomly with my BAR. The Germans screamed and hollered as they were scrambling into there positions. I saw Bigrod and his group take out the AA gun squad as the other squad was waiting in reserve.
"Move, move, move!" ordered McCartney as we rushed through the bullets, I kept firing randomly.
"Hals! Plant this charge!" McCartney ordered as he through me the Charge.
I rushed to the car and set the bomb, and then I ran like hell. The complete front blew apart, and the Germans started to fall back. We saw a horse wagon falling back and we rushed to the edge of the town and started to spray them with all of our weapons. They didn't stand a chance.
"Damn fine work, how many men do you have left?" asked the leader.
"One, two, three, four. I lost one man sir.
I looked around to find out who it was and I saw Cadres lying on the ground, motionless.
"Pick of some ammo and hold this town, Jerry's gona want it back."
I didn't see Buck again until D-Day+ 5, when we met at a staging area, our captain and 10 other men from our squad were dead or unaccounted for. We went on to fight in many places, but that's another story.