CHAPTER 15 "A Searing One"

"We happy few / We band of brothers; For whoever who sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother;"

-William Shakespeare/King Henry the V

June 12, 1944 (D-Day plus 6); Carentan, Normandy France

1550 Hours

Able Company, 506th Parachute Regiment; en route to the Carentan-Baupte road

Last night was hell. I only had the liberty of sleep for 3 hours. Then McCarran woke me up; 1st and 2nd Platoon was ordered by Captain Collins to move out and accompany the rest of the 506th to assemble with the 101st Division at Carentan; the 502nd Regiment managed to break through the German defences at the north during the night.

And when we arrived there, pocket gunfights were everywhere. The brass instructed us to stay behind and cover the flanks of the town. It was a fierce battle during the night. Though, I haven't fired a shot at that time. At 7:30, the krauts had had it and turned their tails.

Now, it is afternoon. Yet, we received word from Command just now that the 506th would begin to move out and secure the southwestern approaches to Carentan. Apparently the Germans had been mobilizing for a counter-attack. The order was also given to the 501st; they would move from Hill 30 towards the axis of approach at the Carentan-Periers highway. Our Company was originally put on reserve, as expected. But the brass insisted that every available platoon be sent out for the mission.

Perfect…

Right now we are approaching on a raised open field; towards the road we were tasked to take. In our horizon there is collection of trees; fences just behind them border the Baupte road. Hopefully, nobody's here save for us. The grasses are almost at our waist's height; giving us some sort of cover. We moved out slowly; 1st Platoon taking the lead, a couple of guys taking point.

"Do you guys smell that?"

"What?" I asked out.

"Smells like shit…"

"Don't start David. I just had my lunch."

"No. I'm serious Robert. Something really smells out here."

"Hey! Pipe down back there." Captain Collins ordered.

We were treading for a few minutes now as I could remember. We were scanning the area for any sign of movement; friend or foe. However, I felt something amiss. Looking around, I could see that we were spread out; a few feet away from each other. It granted us a bit of mobility; but we made a much larger profile for the enemy to see. The entire 1st Platoon of Able Company is sprinkled.

I think that the Captain made that so because we all assumed that the Germans aren't on the move as we speak. Pretty much like what happened last night; the remnants of the defenders at Carentan fled south. But God knows how many fresh troops have joined them to reorganize. There are a lot of reinforcements mobilizing near St. Lo as I have heard. If they were bringing in plenty of tank support, the Germans could attack now; whilst heading on our direction. And sooner, rather than later.

But what if later is now?

BANG!

A shot from out of nowhere.

The man in front of us was immediately killed.

"Sniper!"

"Get down! Everyone, get your heads down!"

I hit the dirt without delay. O'Shea was behind me; he found it proper to do the same. I let the others do the searching for the shooter. I will not move out of my spot; not even the Captain can make me.

"There! Over there! At the trees!" One shouted out.

"The goddamn stragglers! Let them have it! Open fire!" Captain Collins barked.

At once, everyone let loose with their weapons. I crouched up and took aim as well. There were no signs of Germans running about the trees from afar. But I didn't hesitate. I fired 4 rounds; placing them on where I thought I saw movement. The enemy fired back. They had automatic weapons; frighteningly similar from a particular encounter before…

But of course. Carentan was defended by the 6th Fallschirmjager Regiment. I realized that our attackers were German paratroopers, similar to the ones we encountered at Foucarville. I could hear the familiar pang of shots coming from their special FG-42s.

Jesus…here we go again.

"Jacobs! Get to your radio, call to the 29th and say that we have contact!"

"Right, Captain."

The guy was just beside me; as he crouched he dropped down his carbine and began to tune up the radio. I fired 3 more rounds at the trees; not caring about whether the sniper's shot came from there or not.

Then I saw a flash. It was a gunshot.

BANG!

The sound came late by half a second.

Suddenly, blood splattered in my left cheek. I gasped. I turned around. Jacobs was hit in the head; falling down dead with his hand still holding the receiver of the radio.

"Shit! Captain! Jacobs is hit! Jacobs is hit!"

He turned around; dreaded when he saw that his radioman has been killed.

BANG!

A third shot.

The bullet went past inches from another man's face; slicing the grasses as it hit the ground. It was hard to hear. The intensity of our firing shrouded the sounds of every footstep and bullets zooming at us.

"Where the hell is Rosenbaum?" the Captain called out

He had the other radio.

"Turner! Find Dieter and tell him to contact HQ! We have enemy contact and we need support!"

"Yes sir!"

I tapped O'Shea; who was busy reloading another clip on his rifle.

"David! You with me! We got to find Dieter!"

I ran back deeper into our lines. 2nd Platoon was just behind us. Rosenbaum has to be there.

Our advance was delayed. We needed to get to that radio and inform Command or anybody else that we have encountered the enemy. We needed support; surely those Germans shooting at us right now were just the tip of the iceberg. Part of a much larger force.

Sprinting ahead and past several paratroopers, befuddled at what is going on up front; I managed to find him perplexed like the others.

"What the hell is going on?" He asked out, his German accent confirmed that it was him.

"We got contact right straight at us! Get to your radio and call HQ that we have encountered the enemy!"

"Do we…do we need support?"

"Of course, we do! Get moving!" O'Shea replied.

"Right!"

"INCOMING!" one shouted out. His voice was followed by a blast.

It wasn't a sound from their artillery, however. It was even more familiar…

"TIGER TANK!"

"TIGER TANK UP FRONT!" another yelled.

It was chaos. Everyone was running around; trying to minimize the chance of being hit by the tank. But that made us easy prey for their shooters. All of us were scattered. It was heart-racing; I was about to lose my senses. Gun fire was just everywhere. Some of us were dropping down dead, one at a time.

"We need a bazooka to get that tank!" Captain Collins shouted. "Where are Erickson and Barnes?"

"Erickson's dead sir. Barnes is wounded."

It was McCarran's voice. I mapped him out amidst the panicking scene in front of me. He was holding on at his surgeon pack; two men were lying in their backs. Beside one of them, is the rocket launcher.

I ran towards the Captain. Bullets were searing the grass; you could hear them ricochet past your face and then hit the ground. Or hit someone else. A guy just got knocked down as I sprinted past him. He fell down, grimacing in pain as a bullet wound protruded at his waist.

"Damn! Weber's hit!" McCarran ran to him. "Turner! O'Shea! Cover me!"

"Got it!"

I fired my rifle; which had only one bullet left.

Ping! The empty clip got ejected near my face. I was staggered when it caught in the way of my line of sight. I blinked. I needed to reload. I got another set of rounds from my bandoleer. I put in. Cocked my rifle. Again I opened fire. Risking getting hit by the enemy, McCarran made a dash to the wounded man. He carried him by his shoulder; he crouched and went back to the others; amidst the smoke of gunpowder already billowing at our position.

I kept shooting at the enemy; even though they were unseen thanks to the trees that cover them. 2 rounds left in my rifle. I ran back to the Captain; now Hugh was done getting out the wounded paratrooper out from harm's way. I knew in an instant that he will need me. Or us; since O'Shea was just behind me.

"Turner! O'Shea! Get that bazooka and waste that tank! The rest of you! Give them covering fire!"

"Yes sir!"

"Got it!"

I huddled back to McCarran; the two men that he had been treating had the rocket launcher that we were looking for. Blood and bullet casings stain the green grass fields. The others drew enemy fire away from us; I saw a couple of guys run and hit the dirt as they quickly man a 30 cal.

"Don't mind if I borrow this pal?" I joked.

"Just get the damn bazooka, Turner!"

I picked it up. It was quite heavy. Yet, I was familiar with it. It was just as heavy as the Panzerfausts that I had to carry in my back when we were defending Beuzeville-au-Plain days ago. O'Shea grabbed and strapped on the rocket holders unto himself.

With that, we ran off; keeping ourselves as low as possible as we made our way towards the direction of the enemy tank.

We saw it. In the trees. A long muzzle gave me that implication. The cannon was turning to the left; prepping up for another shot.

"Shit! It's gonna fire again!" I cursed.

"Come on! Bring it up to your shoulder so I can load the rocket!" O'Shea ordered.

I did what he said. I took aim at the tank; crouching as we do. Hopefully, the tall grass wouldn't let us be seen by the enemy. I didn't look away. The tank was already at my sights. I was trembling. My heart was pacing fast. O'Shea began to load the rocket from behind me.

He then armed it.

"It's hot! Clear!" his hand tapped my head.

I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. I squeezed the trigger as hard as I can. The rocket ignited its motors as it hurriedly streamed forward towards the tank; the force I felt as I felt the recoil. It left a contrail; white enough to make itself known amidst the smoke coming out from numerous rifle barrels.

BOOM!

The trees were rocked as the tank exploded instantly. A fireball set it ablaze. The enemy deduced their firing; knowing that their best weapon against us has been destroyed. Some came running out from their covers and we picked off. But amidst the smoke fluttering at them; some remained and continued to open fire. Only this time, they moved further up front at their position; avoiding the smouldering mass of twisted metal beside them.

It was stupid for them. All of us were able to map them out.

"Over there! Aim at there!" O'Shea pointed at me.

The enemy was in a strong position. A position that we needed to breach. Again I crouched and took aim. He then loaded up another rocket from behind. Arming it, he tapped at my head again.

"Good to go! Clear!"

Again I pulled the trigger. The rocket zoomed forward at a second's notice; white smoke was trailing behind it. It had reached the trees in an instant.

BOOM!

Branches, leaves and a few bodies got blown away. The cluster of trees was finally caught on fire; thanks to the destroyed Tiger Tank's fuel igniting. The Germans had had it. Soon, their firing finally ceased as they turned tail and ran. They come out from their corners and disappeared from our line of sight.

"They're retreating! They're retreating!"

"Yeah! Look at those bastards run!" We cheered.

Some of the krauts had even the knack to fire a few rounds at us. Enough to convince us that we should keep firing at them.

"Don't let down guys! Let 'em have it!" Captain Collins ordered.

We obliged; already with a half-smile strewn at our faces. The others were letting lose a few rounds; taking down a few of the runaways. We didn't stop; it was our turn to make them pay now.

"We did it!"

"Yeah! Thanks to us!" O'Shea cheered.

"Good job! Look at them turn their-"

thud

gasp

Something…

I felt something flicker at my chest.

I found myself clamping my hands at neck. My eyes were wide. Then I was falling down slowly.

I turned to O'Shea. His jaw dropping wide as he stared at me.

Ahhh….

That was all I can breathe out.

I suddenly felt pain. A searing one. Right then, I realized I was shot. My vision was getting blurry.

Then I heard it.

"Turner's hit!"

"Jesus Christ!"

"Turner!"

"Turner!"

Their voices died down as I landed flat on my back. Everything went dark…

"McCarran! Get over here, quick! Medic! Medic!"

Right at that moment, I felt my breathing stopped…

-TO BE CONTINUED-