June 6, 1944...

Utah Beach

Sgt. Harvey Titters a Squad leader in the 3rd Ranger Division looked ahead at his Squad on the landing boat headed for Utah beach. They were the first boat of one of many V-formation landing boats landing at Utah. Most of his men were privates and had been coincidentally living around his block. They were all fresh out of basic, except for his support gunner who had been with him since seeing some action in Italy. He listened to the chatter of the incoming and outgoing radio messages coming from where the sailor was controlling the landing boat. Finally after, to him, was a long period of time it was time for them to get ready for the horrors of the Normandy Invasion that they would not expect. "Five minutes!" The Sailor yelled over the roaring and rushing of water, which was constantly banging against the hull of the landing boat.
"Alright men! This is it! Keep moving and stay together, and stay well behind cover as much as possible. Don't go into open beach, you'll make an easier target for them Krauts! And watch for patterns in the artillery if there is any!" Sgt. Titters tapped his Support gunner, and made plans with him then gave his attention back to the rest of the men. "Portside you follow me! Starboard follow Corporal Evahns!
"Hey Sarge! I've been thinking about those Paratroopers, that jumped in behind enemy lines earlier this morning." Corporal Evahns, the support gunner, said. "I've been thinkin' my kid brothers with the 82nd and...well..." he gave the Sergeant a note with a picture. "...Give that to him when you link up with them airborne boys on the other side of the beach, will ya'? I'm thinkin' this'll be the last time I ever get a chance to say sorry to him for something that happened back home."
"You will not talk like that Corporal! We have seen action together in Italy, and we will see more of it in France." The sergeant angrily shoved it back into the Corporals hands, and had to hold himself upright as the landing boat rocked from one of the many 105mm shells coming in from somewhere behind the bunkers. Where the 101st and 82nd Airborne Divisions should be taking care of them as they waited.
"Just hang onto it anyway! So you can give it back to me if we get through this!" The Corporal insisted.
"WHEN we get back, soldier!" Harvey took the letter and put it into the pocket where all the letters and personal valuables were to go. "Now get your men ready!"
Corporal Evahns nodded, and turned to his men praying loudly to his men. Although most of the men on the starboard side weren't catholic, they tried to follow him in prayer.
The entire landing boat started to calm down when one of the other boats on the right side of them exploded in a blossom of flame. Blood dyed red water splashed all over the Portside. The now scared soldiers began to shiver in fear. The rifleman in the front held his M1 Garand upside down as he bent over and puked all over the deck, making a machine gunner two rows behind him also puke on the deck. The others looked green and felt sick but they didn't cause any more messes to the deck. Not like it mattered anyway.
"Thirty seconds!" The sailor yelled out in the back of the landing boat. "God be with ya'!"
To everyone even the two veterans thirty seconds felt like an eternity. Then when the ramps went down and the German MG-42's opened up the two veterans in the back reacted on reflexes. They took cover. The Germans continued shooting as they found new targets away from that one landing boat. The NCOs looked up from their hiding places, and looked at the bodies that were supposed to be under their command.
The two looked at each other then Sergeant Titters made a hand signal that said to get up, and as soon as they did that, and got out of the landing boat, they sprinted to the nearest beach obstacle with the least amount of friendly troops. "Man am I glad to see you guys!" The friendly trooper exclaimed over the noise.
"You alone trooper?" The Sergeant asked ripping the plastic off of his Thompson that protected it from the sand, and seawater, that could jam the weapon.
"The two other guys I was with made a run for the sea wall over there, but those bastards with the 105's got 'em!" The radioman replied. He peeked to the left of the obstacle and pointed to the sea wall where a bunch of Rangers were huddling against. "Where're you guys headin'? Where ever that is, I'm going!"
"Glad to have you with us, private." The Corporal muttered. Loud enough for the radioman to hear.
"On three!" Sergeant Titters made sure the two were listening and watching him before he counted down. "One!" They all shifted their weapons to better suit them for sprinting on sand. "Two!" The radioman made a cross on his chest; he muttered a catholic prayer. "THREE!"
They all ran for the sea wall at the same time. As a captain of the track and field, at the local high school Corporal Anthony Evahns used to go to, he was the one who reached the sea wall first. He also had some training running in sand at the Florida beaches. The Private reached the sea wall next. They waited for the Sergeant to reach them but saw that he was having trouble. The two enlisted men waved their hands to the NCO to hurry up. When Sergeant Harvey Titters was close enough, Evahns leaned out to pull the Sergeant in, when a bullet struck the back of his neck, ricocheted off of his spine, and exited through the top of his head. A stray round from one of the MG-42's got lucky and had killed Evahns. The Sergeant stared in fear as the body crumpled before him. The radioman was also stunned. Then all of a sudden a link of explosions started to edge towards the sea wall. The German artillery were literally walking the rounds toward their position.
The radioman was the first to recover. "Let's go, Sergeant! We have to get out of here!"
The Sergeant pushed himself up and ran toward the sea wall. Not long after he got to it, the place where he and Evahns were, erupted in a big explosion of sand. With that in his mind, he ran along the sea wall away from the rounds, while dragging the Private with him.