A/N OK, yes he will invent something. But not now. Kind of intense, you know?
Disclaimer: You really think I own this?
It was bad out there. Very bad. Sheen was still praying. When would he get over that? Carl had his inhaler out. Jimmy? He was standing there, processing the situation. Sheen nudged him.
"Hey Jimmy, look!" said Sheen.
Some prisoners were coming out of the destroyed bunker, their hands up. Sheen, who was Jewish, went over.
"Juden." Sheen said, taking out his necklace. 'Juden' was the German word for Jew. The Germans looked at him with hatred.
"Sheen, get over here!" laughed Jimmy.
"Alright, listen up! First we'll go up the cliff, to take out those nests and the artillery that should be there." said the Captain.
Just then, MG42's fired on them. Dirt was flying.
"Get down!"
"Advance!"
They were ordered to move. A boy next to him died. Yes, again, the blood ran.
"We need a medic over here!"
Just then, something clicked.
"Mines!" yelled one.
Too late. Somebody stepped on a mine. It of course blew up, and, quite frankly, he was gone. A leg landed on Jimmy.
"Sweet God…" said Jimmy.
"Move! Now! Up the ropes!"
Battleships had fired ropes at the cliff, for them to climb up. But ropes can be cut….But they went ahead. Grenades were flying everywhere. One man got his rope cut, and fell. Jimmy watched. He fell, and then landed on a rock. Blood was streaming from his mouth and neck. Wait... It was the Captain!
"Oh my God!"
"You just got promoted boy." Said a Sergeant.
Jimmy and Sheen made it up.
"With the power of Ultralord, I will succeed! Yahhhh!" yelled Sheen.
Then, he went running around shooting Germans randomly.
"Damn…"
Jimmy kept on running. A person came up. He punched him in the face. Jimmy was reeling. Then again. Then Jimmy pushed him down, and stared at his face. He had a beard, but looked young. He pulled up his Thompson, and shot him in the face. He started squirming around, and then stopped. No pulse was to be heard. He had killed his first man. But then again, it felt rather good. He had killed for a greater cause, and of course, he thought he had done a great job at it, and wanted to continue. He was a perfectionist. He looked at the man's face again. He had a hole where he had shot him, and blood was streaming out. Gross.
"Reporting sir!" a young private said.
"At ease. Any news?"
"Sir…The artillery's not there."
A/N Oh no… The suspense is horrible! Expect a chapter tomorrow.