I don't own Medal of Honor or any of its characters. Steven Spielberg
created the 'Medal of Honor' series.
This story is dedicated to all those who have risked or lost their lives fighting in WWII.
Medal of Honor: Frontline
Part 2: A Storm in the Port
Chapter 1: Seaside Stowaway
"You're going back to sea, my boy."
That's what my mission officer told me after he gave me my new assignment. He must have heard about my sabotaging of U-4901 months before. In any case, he gave me the job of infiltrating a German U-boat facility in Lorient, France and taking out all the submarines there that I could. The only way to do that was to stowaway on another submarine, ironically, the U-4902, going there. Intelligence from the French Resistance reported that it would make an unscheduled stop for re-supply in St. Mathieu. While I was there I was to give support to the 101st Division, which was still in a stalemate with Nazi forces.
St. Mathieu, France. August 17, 1944, 9:00 a.m.
The morning reminded me of Normandy – foggy and drizzly. At least it wasn't very cold. I had just parachuted into a small clearing outside the city gate. I was dropped here for a good reason. As I searched the ground, I found a box underneath a tree. It contained special documents and a map that would help me find my way around the U-boat facility. Stashing them in my pocket, I checked to see that I had everything else with me. Besides my M1 Garand, I had three demolition charges in my bag – two of them timed. As I made my way to the path that led into the city, I got a nasty surprise.
A U.S. jeep whizzed past me, a German fighter plane in pursuit. The plane fired on the jeep, blowing out a tire. As it took off into the sky, its target crashed into a wall. I ran as fast as I could to see if anyone was alright. I ended up seeing a firefight between American and Nazi forces. Remembering what I was doing, I made it to the jeep. The two in the front were killed on impact, but the gunner was still alive.
"I can't move!" He cried. "Take control of the gun!" Knowing what he meant, I manned the turret on the jeep and opened fire on any Nazis I saw.
After helping the surviving soldier get medical attention, I decided it was time to get moving. Searching the courtyard I discovered a crate of stick grenades in one of the blown out houses. I grabbed a couple of them and brought out my M1 Garand. I proceeded down the walkway and encountered more Germans. As I was about to fire on them, a P-47 flew overhead and dropped a bomb on the group. I had barely enough time to find cover before the explosion came.
When the smoke cleared, I was the only one in the area still standing. I ducked my way through one of the alleys and found myself face- to-face with more trouble. After taking out two more Nazis, I found myself at a dead end. It was then that I noticed a hole in the wall just big enough for a man to crawl through, which I did. Running out of the house, I saw U.S. soldiers receiving hell.
There were only a handful left, and they were pinned down by fire from the opposite side of a stone bridge. A Nazi tank was the brunt of the force, launching shell after shell at the troops. Anyone foolish enough to try and cross the bridge was blown to bloody bits by the tank. Not to mention the Nazi infantry depending on the metal behemoth to do the fighting. If something wasn't done soon, the Nazis would have complete control of the bridge. As someone trying to do their part, I simply couldn't let that happen.
I rushed across our side of the battlefield and met up with some of the other soldiers. They had cover behind one of the wrecked houses.
"Any luck with those Nazi bastards?" I asked them.
"Hell no," replied one of the soldiers. "As long as that damn tank is in the way, there's no way we can get across the bridge and give those sons-of-bitches hell!"
"We don't have anything that can penetrate tank armor," said the other soldier. "Just a few Garands and Thompsons, but that's it. And we're running low on ammo."
"Well, I've got a couple grenades with me," I replied. "But I'd have to be really close to that tank if I wanted to do real damage."
"It's better than nothing, that's for sure. Hey, how fast do you think you are? Think you're fast enough to cross that bridge without being blown up?"
"You've got to be kidding me!" I retorted. "You want me to risk my neck to try and stop that thing?"
"Hey, we'll give you cover all the way! You can count on us!"
I thought for a few seconds and said, "you've better, or I'm taking you to Hell with me!"
"That's the spirit!" The soldiers shouted out the orders to their comrades. The second I started running, the others started firing.
There were so many targets for the gunner in the tank that he didn't notice my approach, but the infantry did. A few fired their weapons at me, but I managed to avoid being hit. By the time the men in the tank noticed me, I was right next to the hulk of steel. After taking out the Nazis near the tank, I climbed on top of the weapon, stick grenade in hand. I opened the hatch and fired my M1 Garand into the interior. Then, I threw in the grenade and jumped clear. The tank exploded in a shower of sparks and debris, and it wouldn't be causing us any more trouble. The American soldiers cheered as I continued on my way.
Running down the street, I saw the remains of a church. Thinking of it as a nice place to have a quick rest, I entered the ruins, only to find an American on the ground. I rushed to check on him, and he was in bad shape.
"My god, you okay?" I asked, checking his pulse.
"Not really," he replied weakly. "Got shot in the side, and my leg is broken."
"How the hell did you do that?"
"I was up in a higher level acting as a sniper. A Nazi got me in the side, and I fell. I managed to take cover here, but now I can't move."
As I was about to help him up, the radio next to him suddenly flared to life, a message attempting to get through.
"Connaway! Private, come in! We need fire from that tower! Get up in the tower! They're getting too close over here!"
"Oh damn it!" Connaway cursed.
"They want cover fire?" I said. "They're going to get it. Where's that machine gun?"
"It's up there," Connaway said, pointing upward.
"Okay," I replied, "stay alive, and I'll be right back." I climbed the ladder and made it into the tower, and I immediately found the MG-42. Manning it, I picked out the Nazis on the ground and took them out. I was at that gun until the ammo ran out, but by that time the area was clear of enemies.
Keeping my word, I helped Connaway back to the rest of the group. As he was being treated, he offered a beer on him if we both survived the war. Smiling, I thanked Connaway for the invitation, and then I went on my way. I think this was the first friend I made overseas, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last. Unfortunately, now wasn't the time for looking to the future. I had a job to do, and I had to finish it as soon as possible.
As I continued through the streets, I noticed that almost all of the buildings had some kind of damage to it. There must have been a bombing run some time before I got here. I didn't know if we did it, or they did it, but wasn't right, in my opinion. What if some civilians hadn't evacuated, yet? What if they were caught in the bombing? It just reminded me how inhumane and pathetic war really is.
I entered what appeared to be a storage building, and the far wall was blown out, a few pieces of wood sticking out here and there. In the courtyard, there were a few Nazis standing around talking. Taking this as my chance, I threw a grenade at their feet. I immediately hid – they would have easily spotted me. When I heard an explosion, I pointed my Garand into the courtyard, only to find that the pair was still alive. They must have seen the grenade and threw it away before it could go off, and now they were looking for the one who threw it in the first place. Not giving them a chance to look further, I fired the rifle, taking them out with a few shots.
It took some crawling, but I managed to get into the courtyard. Going through an archway, I could smell the ocean, meaning the port was close by. Turning the corner, I noticed the remains of a German armored vehicle – blocking my way. Cursing, I looked around for a way around. I noticed a large hole in a building near the vehicle, so I decided to give it a shot. As I crawled through the tight passageway, I heard a conversation – make that an interrogation – going on.
"Answer me! Where's your headquarters positioned?"
"Private John Castole! 451616707!"
Realizing it was an American being interrogated, I crawled faster than ever to try and reach him before something bad happened. "Fool! Answer me, now!"
"Private John Castole! 451616707!"
"SPEAK OR DIE, I SAY!"
"That's all you're getting out of me, bastard!"
"Useless!"
BANG.
I reached the room just as the soldier was killed by a shot in the head. The Nazi interrogator got a shot in the back of the head, courtesy of me. I checked on the soldier, but I knew I was too late. I felt mad, both at the Nazi for killing a man unarmed, and at myself for not being able to stop him. Then I realized that the soldier could have been killed even if he did talk, but he was brave enough to not say anything. It wasn't physical, but he did, technically, fight to protect something really important. Shutting his eyes, I said a quick prayer for him. I then noticed a clipboard on the wall. It was a shipment schedule for U-4902. Thinking it to be useful, I stuffed the papers in my bag with the rest, and went outside.
A trio of Nazis was hiding behind sandbags, firing an MG-42 at some American soldiers taking cover in the alley. They never noticed me, for I came up behind them. I shot the M1 Garand at close range, and they were taken out with no resistance. The Americans came out of hiding to secure the machine gun, and we introduced ourselves.
"Any of you know where the dock is?" I asked.
"Yeah," replied one of the soldiers, "it's beyond that wall." He pointed at a dead end where several oil barrels sat. "You'll have to take a roundabout route, though. This alleyway is a dead end."
"Maybe not," I said back. I pulled the pin off of a grenade and tossed it into the oil barrels, then yelled for the others to take cover. The resulting explosion took out the wall – and a path to the docks was revealed. Thanking the group for their help, I continued on.
I found there were two paths to the dock; one was direct, and I could see the U-4902; however, it could easily be an ambush, so I went the other way. I proved to be right, for there was a pair of MG-42s and half a dozen Nazis waiting for any unsuspecting American to make his way through. Like last time, I showed up behind them, so they didn't notice me, at first. I tossed my last two grenades, and then started firing on the group. I few went down by gunfire, and the rest were killed by the blast. That was only because I distracted them from looking down to the grenades.
The path cleared, I arrived at the dock. A supply truck was parked nearby, and crates of all kinds of supplies lay on the ground ready for loading. The lighthouse was blaring its light in a counter-clockwise direction, warning any approaching ships that they were close to land. Ahead of me was the U-4902. Its black hull gleamed in the sunlight that peeked out from behind the gray clouds. No one was outside, so it had probably arrived only a few minutes before. I searched the crates for any good place to hide. I found an empty crate large enough to hide me, but small enough to conceal anything incriminating.
As I climbed in and pulled the lid over it, I knew it'd be a while before the supplies would be loaded. It gave me time to think about the events that recently happened. Risking my neck to battle a tank, manning a machine gun in place of other soldiers – twice, witnessing the death of a threatened prisoner. It was a lot to keep track of. I knew that this was only the tip of the iceberg, and the mission was far from over. Suddenly, I felt my crate being picked up and moved. I was finally loaded into the U- boat. A few hours later, I heard the engines roar to life, and we were on our way. I only hoped that I didn't get seasick from all this...
End of Chapter 1
This story is dedicated to all those who have risked or lost their lives fighting in WWII.
Medal of Honor: Frontline
Part 2: A Storm in the Port
Chapter 1: Seaside Stowaway
"You're going back to sea, my boy."
That's what my mission officer told me after he gave me my new assignment. He must have heard about my sabotaging of U-4901 months before. In any case, he gave me the job of infiltrating a German U-boat facility in Lorient, France and taking out all the submarines there that I could. The only way to do that was to stowaway on another submarine, ironically, the U-4902, going there. Intelligence from the French Resistance reported that it would make an unscheduled stop for re-supply in St. Mathieu. While I was there I was to give support to the 101st Division, which was still in a stalemate with Nazi forces.
St. Mathieu, France. August 17, 1944, 9:00 a.m.
The morning reminded me of Normandy – foggy and drizzly. At least it wasn't very cold. I had just parachuted into a small clearing outside the city gate. I was dropped here for a good reason. As I searched the ground, I found a box underneath a tree. It contained special documents and a map that would help me find my way around the U-boat facility. Stashing them in my pocket, I checked to see that I had everything else with me. Besides my M1 Garand, I had three demolition charges in my bag – two of them timed. As I made my way to the path that led into the city, I got a nasty surprise.
A U.S. jeep whizzed past me, a German fighter plane in pursuit. The plane fired on the jeep, blowing out a tire. As it took off into the sky, its target crashed into a wall. I ran as fast as I could to see if anyone was alright. I ended up seeing a firefight between American and Nazi forces. Remembering what I was doing, I made it to the jeep. The two in the front were killed on impact, but the gunner was still alive.
"I can't move!" He cried. "Take control of the gun!" Knowing what he meant, I manned the turret on the jeep and opened fire on any Nazis I saw.
After helping the surviving soldier get medical attention, I decided it was time to get moving. Searching the courtyard I discovered a crate of stick grenades in one of the blown out houses. I grabbed a couple of them and brought out my M1 Garand. I proceeded down the walkway and encountered more Germans. As I was about to fire on them, a P-47 flew overhead and dropped a bomb on the group. I had barely enough time to find cover before the explosion came.
When the smoke cleared, I was the only one in the area still standing. I ducked my way through one of the alleys and found myself face- to-face with more trouble. After taking out two more Nazis, I found myself at a dead end. It was then that I noticed a hole in the wall just big enough for a man to crawl through, which I did. Running out of the house, I saw U.S. soldiers receiving hell.
There were only a handful left, and they were pinned down by fire from the opposite side of a stone bridge. A Nazi tank was the brunt of the force, launching shell after shell at the troops. Anyone foolish enough to try and cross the bridge was blown to bloody bits by the tank. Not to mention the Nazi infantry depending on the metal behemoth to do the fighting. If something wasn't done soon, the Nazis would have complete control of the bridge. As someone trying to do their part, I simply couldn't let that happen.
I rushed across our side of the battlefield and met up with some of the other soldiers. They had cover behind one of the wrecked houses.
"Any luck with those Nazi bastards?" I asked them.
"Hell no," replied one of the soldiers. "As long as that damn tank is in the way, there's no way we can get across the bridge and give those sons-of-bitches hell!"
"We don't have anything that can penetrate tank armor," said the other soldier. "Just a few Garands and Thompsons, but that's it. And we're running low on ammo."
"Well, I've got a couple grenades with me," I replied. "But I'd have to be really close to that tank if I wanted to do real damage."
"It's better than nothing, that's for sure. Hey, how fast do you think you are? Think you're fast enough to cross that bridge without being blown up?"
"You've got to be kidding me!" I retorted. "You want me to risk my neck to try and stop that thing?"
"Hey, we'll give you cover all the way! You can count on us!"
I thought for a few seconds and said, "you've better, or I'm taking you to Hell with me!"
"That's the spirit!" The soldiers shouted out the orders to their comrades. The second I started running, the others started firing.
There were so many targets for the gunner in the tank that he didn't notice my approach, but the infantry did. A few fired their weapons at me, but I managed to avoid being hit. By the time the men in the tank noticed me, I was right next to the hulk of steel. After taking out the Nazis near the tank, I climbed on top of the weapon, stick grenade in hand. I opened the hatch and fired my M1 Garand into the interior. Then, I threw in the grenade and jumped clear. The tank exploded in a shower of sparks and debris, and it wouldn't be causing us any more trouble. The American soldiers cheered as I continued on my way.
Running down the street, I saw the remains of a church. Thinking of it as a nice place to have a quick rest, I entered the ruins, only to find an American on the ground. I rushed to check on him, and he was in bad shape.
"My god, you okay?" I asked, checking his pulse.
"Not really," he replied weakly. "Got shot in the side, and my leg is broken."
"How the hell did you do that?"
"I was up in a higher level acting as a sniper. A Nazi got me in the side, and I fell. I managed to take cover here, but now I can't move."
As I was about to help him up, the radio next to him suddenly flared to life, a message attempting to get through.
"Connaway! Private, come in! We need fire from that tower! Get up in the tower! They're getting too close over here!"
"Oh damn it!" Connaway cursed.
"They want cover fire?" I said. "They're going to get it. Where's that machine gun?"
"It's up there," Connaway said, pointing upward.
"Okay," I replied, "stay alive, and I'll be right back." I climbed the ladder and made it into the tower, and I immediately found the MG-42. Manning it, I picked out the Nazis on the ground and took them out. I was at that gun until the ammo ran out, but by that time the area was clear of enemies.
Keeping my word, I helped Connaway back to the rest of the group. As he was being treated, he offered a beer on him if we both survived the war. Smiling, I thanked Connaway for the invitation, and then I went on my way. I think this was the first friend I made overseas, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last. Unfortunately, now wasn't the time for looking to the future. I had a job to do, and I had to finish it as soon as possible.
As I continued through the streets, I noticed that almost all of the buildings had some kind of damage to it. There must have been a bombing run some time before I got here. I didn't know if we did it, or they did it, but wasn't right, in my opinion. What if some civilians hadn't evacuated, yet? What if they were caught in the bombing? It just reminded me how inhumane and pathetic war really is.
I entered what appeared to be a storage building, and the far wall was blown out, a few pieces of wood sticking out here and there. In the courtyard, there were a few Nazis standing around talking. Taking this as my chance, I threw a grenade at their feet. I immediately hid – they would have easily spotted me. When I heard an explosion, I pointed my Garand into the courtyard, only to find that the pair was still alive. They must have seen the grenade and threw it away before it could go off, and now they were looking for the one who threw it in the first place. Not giving them a chance to look further, I fired the rifle, taking them out with a few shots.
It took some crawling, but I managed to get into the courtyard. Going through an archway, I could smell the ocean, meaning the port was close by. Turning the corner, I noticed the remains of a German armored vehicle – blocking my way. Cursing, I looked around for a way around. I noticed a large hole in a building near the vehicle, so I decided to give it a shot. As I crawled through the tight passageway, I heard a conversation – make that an interrogation – going on.
"Answer me! Where's your headquarters positioned?"
"Private John Castole! 451616707!"
Realizing it was an American being interrogated, I crawled faster than ever to try and reach him before something bad happened. "Fool! Answer me, now!"
"Private John Castole! 451616707!"
"SPEAK OR DIE, I SAY!"
"That's all you're getting out of me, bastard!"
"Useless!"
BANG.
I reached the room just as the soldier was killed by a shot in the head. The Nazi interrogator got a shot in the back of the head, courtesy of me. I checked on the soldier, but I knew I was too late. I felt mad, both at the Nazi for killing a man unarmed, and at myself for not being able to stop him. Then I realized that the soldier could have been killed even if he did talk, but he was brave enough to not say anything. It wasn't physical, but he did, technically, fight to protect something really important. Shutting his eyes, I said a quick prayer for him. I then noticed a clipboard on the wall. It was a shipment schedule for U-4902. Thinking it to be useful, I stuffed the papers in my bag with the rest, and went outside.
A trio of Nazis was hiding behind sandbags, firing an MG-42 at some American soldiers taking cover in the alley. They never noticed me, for I came up behind them. I shot the M1 Garand at close range, and they were taken out with no resistance. The Americans came out of hiding to secure the machine gun, and we introduced ourselves.
"Any of you know where the dock is?" I asked.
"Yeah," replied one of the soldiers, "it's beyond that wall." He pointed at a dead end where several oil barrels sat. "You'll have to take a roundabout route, though. This alleyway is a dead end."
"Maybe not," I said back. I pulled the pin off of a grenade and tossed it into the oil barrels, then yelled for the others to take cover. The resulting explosion took out the wall – and a path to the docks was revealed. Thanking the group for their help, I continued on.
I found there were two paths to the dock; one was direct, and I could see the U-4902; however, it could easily be an ambush, so I went the other way. I proved to be right, for there was a pair of MG-42s and half a dozen Nazis waiting for any unsuspecting American to make his way through. Like last time, I showed up behind them, so they didn't notice me, at first. I tossed my last two grenades, and then started firing on the group. I few went down by gunfire, and the rest were killed by the blast. That was only because I distracted them from looking down to the grenades.
The path cleared, I arrived at the dock. A supply truck was parked nearby, and crates of all kinds of supplies lay on the ground ready for loading. The lighthouse was blaring its light in a counter-clockwise direction, warning any approaching ships that they were close to land. Ahead of me was the U-4902. Its black hull gleamed in the sunlight that peeked out from behind the gray clouds. No one was outside, so it had probably arrived only a few minutes before. I searched the crates for any good place to hide. I found an empty crate large enough to hide me, but small enough to conceal anything incriminating.
As I climbed in and pulled the lid over it, I knew it'd be a while before the supplies would be loaded. It gave me time to think about the events that recently happened. Risking my neck to battle a tank, manning a machine gun in place of other soldiers – twice, witnessing the death of a threatened prisoner. It was a lot to keep track of. I knew that this was only the tip of the iceberg, and the mission was far from over. Suddenly, I felt my crate being picked up and moved. I was finally loaded into the U- boat. A few hours later, I heard the engines roar to life, and we were on our way. I only hoped that I didn't get seasick from all this...
End of Chapter 1