Chapter 9 (Arthur Kirkland)

"Move north?" Eric asked.

"Not us, the French First and parts of the BEF. We're supposed to hold the line and act as a reinforcement" Arthur replied tensely, "But what I'm afraid of is the Luftwaffe. Both their fighters and bombers are pretty lethal for ground troops and we don't have artillery to get them down. So, what that means, if they find us and see us, we're sitting ducks. So don't let them see us."

"Do you think we will have to engage this night?" Arthur heard someone ask.

"What difference does it make, today, tomorrow – the attack is imminent. So prepare yourselves." Arthur spoke these words, also for himself. He had to be ready. Ready to die, if it came to it.

He didn't know how much time he had left. He took out a piece of paper and began to write on it.

Dear mother,

The Germans are moving towards us. There is no time anymore. We will have to fight, and we will have to fight hard. I hope you and father are alright. I miss you. I hope we will see us soon again. I'm not afraid of the fight, mother. I'm not afraid of the Germans. I am, however, fearing the loss of men. But this is war, and I am part of it.
Tell father he should look out for you. In case I can't.

I love you,
Arthur.

The night passed without a shot. But the silence was horrifying. No one knew what the next hour, the next minute will bring. Arthur had heard an approximate number of German tanks in action and the number was inconceivably high. He didn't exactly know the number of Allied tanks, but he doubted they even had as many as the Germans, even if one counted the ones that weren't in action in France. In the face of his men, he could only see tense excitement. No one was really scared because no one knew what war was like. Hours passed, breaking their nerves.

It was the phone that interrupted their battle they fought with themselves. Arthur picked up after the radioman had informed him that it was the HQ.

"Holland has fallen. They've bombed Amsterdam. Belgium is next. The French First is moving north, British companies to the east are moving up with them. There is a spearhead that is moving through Belgium territory now, and all attempts to stop it have failed" Arthur was informed.

"Who's the spearhead?" He asked.

"Well, the Luftwaffe follows it and bombs everything they can't destroy themselves. It's an entire Panzer division, the 7th panzer division under the command of Erwin Rommel. They are additionally supported by a SS-Totenkopf division. They have led the assault through Holland."

Arthur nodded and asked: "Still holding the line, is that still our order?"

"Well, if you could stop that dammed panzer division, I would promote you to general, but for now, yeah, hold the line" the captain remarked.

"Great. You find time for a joke even on a day like this" Arthur replied dryly, "We'll hold out here. But don't let us be sitting ducks. We need artillery when the Luftwaffe arrives!"

"We don't have artillery, Kirkland! Not enough, anyways! So hold the line and fight as good as you can, is that understood?"

Arthur gritted his teeth: "Copy that, captain."

Arthur knelt in the dirt, staring at the horizon with his binoculars. His assault rifle lay next to him.

"Hey! Hey, do you hear that?" Timothy whispered.
It was quiet, steady rumbling.

"Please no" Arthur whispered to himself and watched a plane appear at the horizon. And another one. And another one.

"Everyone, get in the foxholes and don't move!" Arthur ordered once his brain comprehended what was happening. His voice was loud, but he could feel it shake.
He himself dove in his foxhole and continued to watch planes fill the sky. Inconceivably many. It was like a black wave of death. The roar began to grow louder and louder. They didn't bomb the land, not for now, at least. Arthur's heart was racing as he gripped his rifle – as if holding it alone would make him invincible. But every thought of invincibility had left him the second he had spotted the armada that was coming his way. 'This can't be' he kept repeating in his head. This could not be reality. They were supposed to be stronger! Supposed to be better! But then he had an entirely different problem. Out of the sky, something started to descend.

"What?" He heard Eric exclaim.

"They're parachuting people down!" Arthur watched what looked like a squad of German paratroopers making their way down towards them. Not directly, they were some kilometres in front of them. Arthur counted 14.

"Should we shoot them?" Timothy yelled.

"Hold it, are you nuts? We'd give our position away to the aircraft and they'd bomb us!" Arthur yelled back: "We wait till their men are on the ground. They won't drop bombs on their own!"

"Where are the rest of them? You don't start an assault with a dozen men!" Benjamin remarked.

"They're probably here to either cease a hilltop for following artillery or they are the group to test the resistance power of the enemy for following troops, either way, our goal is the same. We've got to stop their advance. Radioman, inform the French and the British HQ, we could use backup!"

"They don't have any forces left for us! All we can add the squad under Ford's command! They're moving east towards our position" the radioman informed.

"Are you kidding? We need artillery!" Arthur demanded.

"They don't have any left! They are moving towards Belgium to stop the reinforcements for the spearhead" the radioman replied.
Arthur looked down to see the locations of the German paratroopers: "Well, just them we can handle with rifles. But shooting at a tank is a lost cause. And I doubt our grenades could take them out from the spot." Arthur looked at Benjamin: "You have a compass, right?"

"Yes sir" Ben replied.

"Then you move east, meet up with Ford. Tell them to spread out in a line about one and a half kilometres long, stretching from north to south. We will split up in groups of seven and four, four remain here and they hold the hill, come what may. The rest will move with me to around the hill and towards the enemy. We'll try to push them to the east or take them out ourselves. We have quite a good amount of coverage here with the woods. We won't shoot until we have reached the end of the woods and take the position behind those bushes down there. Remember? We dug foxholes there some days ago while we were exploring the area. Let's hope they didn't find them until we get there."

It was all mechanical. Like a machine, he knew what to do and say, but he didn't do it like it was his life he was risking.

His men followed him through the woods.

"And don't talk unless it's absolutely necessary" Arthur whispered.
His hands were cold as ice even though it was a pretty warm day. He signalised his men to get down and crawl to the trench once they reached the end of the forest so that the German paratroopers wouldn't see them or their shadows.

"Richtung Hügel, richtig?" Arthur heard.

He didn't understand a word, but he just assumed they were discussing their next move. Two of them were quite close to Arthur and his men – four were on the left and six were a bit further away. Arthur was about to raise his weapon to shoot the two close to them when he saw them moving. Moving towards them.

"Ich frage mich ja, wie lange die Franzosen noch an einen Sieg glauben –"

Arthur knew he couldn't wait – if they saw seven enemy soldiers in one and the same trench, they'd throw a grenade and they were done. He had lifted his rifle and had them in his sight, his finger on the trigger. It was a decision that he knew was not a real decision, it was his duty. He pulled it, and he pulled it again. One of them, a brown haired, rather short German fell to the ground with half of his face blown off – a sight Arthur would never forget. The other one was more lucky. He yelled in agony and grabbed his shoulder:

"Ich brauch' Verstärkung!"

And that's when all hell broke loose: The four on the left were running towards the trench and Arthur saw no other way than to throw a grenade at their feet. In hindsight, Arthur realised how lucky he was for the grenade to go off at the right time at the right pace: Early enough to wound them severely, but far enough away from his men not to injure them. Arthur looked at his men for a second who were in absolute shock and couldn't do anything.

"What are you doing, shoot, goddammit!" He yelled while taking aim again.
Then, he heard a thud behind him. He didn't look, he knew what that meant. He had just lost is first man.

"No, no, goddammit!" He heard Ian scream.
He stood up, and fired aimlessly. Arthur couldn't even yell at him. He was already blown into bits.

Finally, Timothy and Eric took up their rifles and started shooting back at the Germans, too. They had two fatal casualties on their side already, the Germans had one, but far more injured. "You will not succeed!" One of the German soldiers yelled in very bad English. Arthur had no time and no capacity left to reply anything. He was working more as a machine than as a human. But his aiming had been better in training when his hands weren't shaking because of excitement. But eventually, they got the situation under control – at least they thought so.

"He, Funker! Verlange Luftunterstützung!"

Again, Arthur didn't understand what that meant. But once all Germans were either dead or severely wounded and therefore incapacitated, the planes over their heads started changing their flying pattern.

"Get out of the trench!" Arthur yelled and jumped out of it himself. Most of his men followed in tranche as they watched black things rain down on them. But Pete remained in it.

"Pete, get away!" Arthur yelled again, but he had to move. He couldn't wait. But Pete… was in another world already. He watched his own death falling upon him. And once a bomb landed in his range, and Arthur could see how his body was blown to pieces, Arthur started running: "Up! We need to get up on that fucking hill!"

He can't remember ever running that fast, literally running for his life. Bombs everywhere. It was unbelievable. So loud, and there was no where you could hide. He ran, sometimes looked up, but it was useless. The bombs landed everywhere and it was sheer luck not to be hit by them. Then, he heard a scream. He looked back and saw Eric being covered in blood, his leg was hit by shrapnel.

"Fuck!" Arthur exclaimed, turned to his men and yelled: "Keep running!" He ran to Eric, threw him over his shoulders and started running again. He felt the blood running down his back. But he didn't think. There was no time for it.

Dead silence. That was all that was left behind from the German airstrike. And casualties. Arthur had lost two of his men on the first day of combat, to others were injured. Eric and Rainer. The radioman had already called in medics, so they didn't have to wait long for them. When the injured were treated, Arthur found the time to realise what had happened just now.

He stared at the blood on his uniform. He looked at the bodies that the medics recovered.

"Oh my god" he gagged when he looked at the blown of face of Ian and Pete's body that was unrecognisable. Lieutenant Winters had arrived and was standing next to him when the bodies were recovered. Arthur felt sick. Unbelievably sick. He walked some meters away from his squad and threw up. This was the first day at war, and he felt like he had seen enough for a lifetime.

(I hope someone out there in outer space enjoys this little thingy here xD thank you, browsofglory, for your suggestions & kind words, I hope the changes are to your liking :) I appreciate every feedback I can get!)