The clouds darted across the sky, although the wind kept as still as it could to ease the summer day, the ethereal forms leapt across the sky, weaving in and around the dormant sun. It had been hours since the dawn had blistered awake and the earth became restless in the afternoon heat. The trees sagged in exhaustion and the grass sweated a pale dew over itself. The shade of a passing cloud would render those basking in the sun shielded, if only for a moment. The eastern king was gloating his power to those unfortunate enough to be its victims. This lay day purred a pleasant soothing hum that drifted the slumbering animals in the surrounding forests of Renneville safely into sleep. Inside the city though, preparations had been made for a battle, one that would alter the course of the war, only six people remained unused in the groundwork; four British paratroops from the region of St Frederique u Clamont, a French markswoman, and the captain of a long lost squad whom he had recently reacquainted himself with.
Captain Winslow inspected the remaining soldiers who had crawled through hell and back just to be there with him. He could see the fatigue on their faces and knew the inevitable; this was going to be tough. Despite this, he straightened himself up proudly and gave the men their final orders, "Okay folks, this is the last waltz. Once you go to your positions, there's not much to turn back to. However, if your location becomes compromised and you need somewhere to escape to, then pull back to this church. It shall provide beneficial cover, and Phillips has the 34 set up for covering fire," Lieutenant Phillips waved down to his brothers in arms from the church bell tower, the heavy machinegun tightly in his arms. Winslow continued to brief the remaining men, "Miller, I want you to scout ahead and check the position of the oncoming German horde, use McIntyre's binoculars if you want," McIntyre removed his binoculars and handed them to Miller, who immediately swung them around his neck. Winslow gestured to Miller to move on, and he did so, swiftly scuttling down the cobbled road to the opposite side of the bridges.
He then turned to Annabelle, who every now and then peeked at her leg wound and nursed it with comforting inspection. "Miss Annabelle," he began, "your position is to take the role of lead sniper on top of the hotel. The sniper that was there previously there must've been some sort of a signal bearer, you must disguise yourself as him and lure the Germans into a false sense of security. It is crucial that the Germans fall into our trap, you are the key in them doing so." She looked to Williams who was looking into his boots, hoping to see a reflection but failing to see any spot of boot not encrusted in dirt and mud. She moved up to him and held his face close to hers; "In case I never see you again" she whimpered to him, then kissed him again. She readied her rifle and limped slightly to her destination. Johnson stared a burning hole into Williams.
Winslow then addressed Johnson and Williams, "You two," both stood in attention to the Captain, "I want you to go to the bakers overlooking the hotel. Carter should have set up the detonator for the mine on the main road. When the tank crosses it, hit the detonator and pray it does some damage. Williams, you use the detonator, Johnson keep him covered." Johnson grumbled a curse beneath his breath and spat a little onto Williams' shoe. Williams acknowledged Captain Winslow's order and set off, Johnson followed suit, but with less determination, pessimism crushing his every move into bottled envy.
All that was left was McIntyre and Winslow. McIntyre looked about at the vacancy around him and pondered, "What do I do?" Winslow walked up to McIntyre and informed him of his next duties, "McIntyre, I want you to find Jacobs in the town hall. Give him all the covering fire he needs, he is the most important element in our tank resistance. He is the only one who knows how to operate the rocket launcher. I can't stress this enough, KEEP HIM ALIVE" McIntyre nodded in agreement, his task was difficult but he could do it, for the sake of the mission. Then it crossed his mind, "What are you going to do sir?" Winslow turned to McIntyre and plainly said, "I'm going to win the war."
Miller slowed his pace down as he reached the other side of the bridge, he could still vaguely hear Captain Winslow waffling on to the others about their positions. He ambled his way to a large collection of bushes and foliage that obscured the path up ahead and stopped. He clambered down to crawl and wriggled his way across the sweaty summer grass into the bushes. Miller removed the binoculars from around his neck and peered through them. Not a distance away thundered the booming growl of metal track on churned dirt road. Undeviating across the horizon came the dust clouds of the second storm, followed by the seemingly endless ranks of metal and men. Miller dropped the binoculars and fled from the bushes, his feet falling over the other. He slipped and dropped to the ground, his face connecting first. Miller kept running back to the town, panic robbing his legs of substance and structure. His misfortunate retreat caught the attention of Phillips, gently resting in the church's bell tower, he saw the grief stricken Miller flee for his life, so he called to those below, "GERMANS! COMING IN FAST FROM THE EAST!" Word quickly spread across town, alertness springing from fatigue like the blossom of a flower ripe in bloom from its bud. Time was drawing to a close.
Over in the bakers, Johnson and Williams huddled over the counter, the detonator to the mines in white grip of Williams. Now they could hear the resounding hum of tank engines from over the trees and pathways. Williams sensed the fear growing inside him like a cancer, he yearned to cut it out and continue his task. Johnson glared at Williams, his Sten resting gently in his arms. He leaned into Williams and whispered to him, "Why'd you do it Williams?" Williams looked to him, "What? Shut up, I'm in the middle of something" Johnson was determined to get his answer, "why did you take her from me?" Williams was perplexed, "I don't know what you mean" Johnson looked him directly into his eyes and began to raise his voice, "You know hat I've been through you selfish git! Don't take my last chance of happiness away from me!" He raised his Sten to Williams' throat while Williams choked in protest, "I don't know what you want from me, please stop…" his voice became crated as the Sten's latch dug into his throat. Johnson snarled at Williams, "You just had to go and fuck everything up didn't you? I trusted you in the village, and THIS is how you repay me! By stealing the love of my life from me!" Williams managed to push the Sten from his throat and gasp out, "I didn't mean for anything to happen, please forgive me" Johnson kept applying the weapon to block off Williams' air when he came to his senses. Over the past argument, the sound of the approaching Germans had gradually risen in volume, but so slightly that you would not notice if you hadn't been paying attention to the impending doom. The tanks were now crossing the bridges into Renneville, and Johnson saw the nose of the tank's cannon peeking around the corner. He fell back off Williams, his body shrivelled in panic. Williams looked over the baker's counter to see the steel behemoth trundle by. He picked up the detonator, twisted the plunger and forced it down.
The following explosion shook the entirety of the street, walls crumbling to dust in the blast. The Germans using the tank as a huge moving piece of cover were catapulted back in a flurry of flames and blood. The tank itself propelled several feet in the air then plunged back to earth with a responsive detonation. Fire and twisted, charcoaled metal was scattered everywhere, dread slinked its way through the mass of remaining Germans as they dared not venture further, but curiosity tempted their weak minds to enter the street. Both sides of the town's entrance had buckled and fallen into itself. The baker's on the left-hand side was demolished. Smoke and filth sputtered out from the wreckage, then all was quiet once more in the town of Renneville, the tension tightening the hearts of the British soldiers within.
