Arrival
It was a gray dusk as the men of the 41st infantry division began the torturous trip to Omaha beach. Jacob the Mightyena was scared shitless. One would think his name implies might. But he was scared. And who wouldn't be? For many the last thing going through many of these soldiers minds would be a bullet. The enemy was ready to unleash hell at a moments notice.
"All right men," the captain yelled with authority edging his voice, "we've been sent to take out some flak cannons. Get to the beach and meet at the fe-"
He never got to finish as his blood was sprayed over the faces of his now cowering men. His body crumpled to the floor, a large, gaping hole in his head. As the boat neared the shore, bullets rained down upon the small boat. Explosions nearly destroyed the men that cowered under the bombers that flew overhead. However, the shrapnel cut one 'mon to pieces. The boat never reached the shore as it hitched on something...I didn't stay to find out. I jumped overboard, clutching my submachine gun tightly to my chest. Soon I saw what the boat had become lodged on.
It was a sea mine, which just went off. The explosion forced me back. Bullets whizzed through the water, which was now stained red. I began to wade to shore, sounds of men's final calls filled the air. Planes flew overhead. I hid behind some odd piece of metal, probably to stop vehicles. I saw a medic treating a man's wounds. He had been shot in the stomach, and things unimaginable had begun spilling out of him. A man's cries of true pain, were barely 'monnish. It was a terrible screech.
I reajusted my helmet and moved ahead. It seemed a shield had covered me, as it seemed bullets grazed my fur but never touched me. Suddenly a sharp twang and a ringing in my ears as my helmet was shot. Yet the bullet hadn't hit me. I didn't care, as long as he lived. I finally reached the barbed wire. One man stood in resistance and shot at the enemy 'mons. He was answered by being shot in the head. Gray matter covered the ground as he fell in a heap.
"We need something to get rid of this fencing!"
"Hold on...ok I rigged a small charge. It should make a hole just large enough to fit through."
Soon, as the man had stated, a charge went off, creating a gap in the barbed wire.
However, it was no time for cheering, as we still had to deal with snipers and bunkers. Someone threw a smoke grenade, creating a hazy cover. It wasn't a shield but it would have to do. Bullets still rained down but in no particular direction. The men raced across the dangerous ground to the base of the bunker. Now we had to go up the hill and clean out the bunkers. If the man carrying the flame-thrower hadn't been shot, it would have been easier. Now we would have to storm the bunkers. Resistance was little on and on top of the hill. Now, I stood at the entrance, waiting for the engineer to rig a charge to blow the door open. He was about to detonate it was a gun popped through a small slot in the door, and shot the engineer.
It was all so unfair. The mission, all these soldiers lives wasted and for what? I ask you what. Because I do not know. Something stirred inside me. Something evil and feral. I grabbed the detonator. I was no longer Jacob Sharp. I was a monster, ready to kill. I blew the door, killing the man standing behind it and let out a roar.
I prepared my submachine gun and stormed in. Time was almost stopped as I moved through the bunker, killing everything that moved. Men seemed to melt from the walls. It didn't matter, they died in a matter of seconds. I soon reached the front of the bunker that overlooked the beach. I began my trek out of the bunker when I was attacked by an enemy 'mon with a knife. He knocked my gun through the front of the bunker. I unsheathed my bayonet, just in time to block the incoming knife. He jabbed again, again unsuccessful. My senses were in overdrive, as I was now running purely on adrenaline.
I made an attack of my own. I didn't want to kill him(yet)so I struck his leg. My bayonet moved faster than anything ever could move. Blood gushed and yells escaped as he was stabbed. He surrendered as it was obvious he couldn't win. I then unholstered my Colt .45 and began trying to find my way out of the bunker, my pistol pressed to the temple of the unfortunate Furret I had captured. I soon reentered the light, bathed in blood, a Furret cowering in fear. The friendlies stood around me, mouths agape. An officer, finally out of his trance, stated to set up camp. I growled lowly and asked why.
"Well the other men have already taken the other bunkers. We need to rest for the night."
My expression softened. The Furret...not so much. As I dug my foxhole, the adrenaline wore off, and the full realization of what had occurred hit me. I had killed at least seventeen men. And captured another. The man tied at my feet looked nothing like the enemy I had always pictured in this war.
When I had first heard of the war, the person I was fighting I always thought of was this evil, muscular, behemoth. Battle scarred, and a merciless killing machine. The concept of humane did not exist with the men I pictured. No such luck. These men were just like I was, afraid and pissed. Very pissed. I untied the cloth from his mouth. He coughed and sputtered.
"P-Please don't kill me!!!"
"You speak English?"
"Yes! They were using me as a translator."
"Why did you attack me then?"
"Well, what would you do in a situation where a crazed soldier began shooting everything?"
"...Fair 'nuff."
After this, silence reigned. I was sad. I had never killed before and wasn't coping that well. The Furret seemed to notice.
"First time you ever killed someone? I remember when I first had to kill. They had just captured me. They had taken a civilian hostage. They ordered me to shoot or they would shoot me."
"What did you do?"
"I killed her," he said with a tear in his eye.Chapter End Notes:Again R&R please
"All right men," the captain yelled with authority edging his voice, "we've been sent to take out some flak cannons. Get to the beach and meet at the fe-"
He never got to finish as his blood was sprayed over the faces of his now cowering men. His body crumpled to the floor, a large, gaping hole in his head. As the boat neared the shore, bullets rained down upon the small boat. Explosions nearly destroyed the men that cowered under the bombers that flew overhead. However, the shrapnel cut one 'mon to pieces. The boat never reached the shore as it hitched on something...I didn't stay to find out. I jumped overboard, clutching my submachine gun tightly to my chest. Soon I saw what the boat had become lodged on.
It was a sea mine, which just went off. The explosion forced me back. Bullets whizzed through the water, which was now stained red. I began to wade to shore, sounds of men's final calls filled the air. Planes flew overhead. I hid behind some odd piece of metal, probably to stop vehicles. I saw a medic treating a man's wounds. He had been shot in the stomach, and things unimaginable had begun spilling out of him. A man's cries of true pain, were barely 'monnish. It was a terrible screech.
I reajusted my helmet and moved ahead. It seemed a shield had covered me, as it seemed bullets grazed my fur but never touched me. Suddenly a sharp twang and a ringing in my ears as my helmet was shot. Yet the bullet hadn't hit me. I didn't care, as long as he lived. I finally reached the barbed wire. One man stood in resistance and shot at the enemy 'mons. He was answered by being shot in the head. Gray matter covered the ground as he fell in a heap.
"We need something to get rid of this fencing!"
"Hold on...ok I rigged a small charge. It should make a hole just large enough to fit through."
Soon, as the man had stated, a charge went off, creating a gap in the barbed wire.
However, it was no time for cheering, as we still had to deal with snipers and bunkers. Someone threw a smoke grenade, creating a hazy cover. It wasn't a shield but it would have to do. Bullets still rained down but in no particular direction. The men raced across the dangerous ground to the base of the bunker. Now we had to go up the hill and clean out the bunkers. If the man carrying the flame-thrower hadn't been shot, it would have been easier. Now we would have to storm the bunkers. Resistance was little on and on top of the hill. Now, I stood at the entrance, waiting for the engineer to rig a charge to blow the door open. He was about to detonate it was a gun popped through a small slot in the door, and shot the engineer.
It was all so unfair. The mission, all these soldiers lives wasted and for what? I ask you what. Because I do not know. Something stirred inside me. Something evil and feral. I grabbed the detonator. I was no longer Jacob Sharp. I was a monster, ready to kill. I blew the door, killing the man standing behind it and let out a roar.
I prepared my submachine gun and stormed in. Time was almost stopped as I moved through the bunker, killing everything that moved. Men seemed to melt from the walls. It didn't matter, they died in a matter of seconds. I soon reached the front of the bunker that overlooked the beach. I began my trek out of the bunker when I was attacked by an enemy 'mon with a knife. He knocked my gun through the front of the bunker. I unsheathed my bayonet, just in time to block the incoming knife. He jabbed again, again unsuccessful. My senses were in overdrive, as I was now running purely on adrenaline.
I made an attack of my own. I didn't want to kill him(yet)so I struck his leg. My bayonet moved faster than anything ever could move. Blood gushed and yells escaped as he was stabbed. He surrendered as it was obvious he couldn't win. I then unholstered my Colt .45 and began trying to find my way out of the bunker, my pistol pressed to the temple of the unfortunate Furret I had captured. I soon reentered the light, bathed in blood, a Furret cowering in fear. The friendlies stood around me, mouths agape. An officer, finally out of his trance, stated to set up camp. I growled lowly and asked why.
"Well the other men have already taken the other bunkers. We need to rest for the night."
My expression softened. The Furret...not so much. As I dug my foxhole, the adrenaline wore off, and the full realization of what had occurred hit me. I had killed at least seventeen men. And captured another. The man tied at my feet looked nothing like the enemy I had always pictured in this war.
When I had first heard of the war, the person I was fighting I always thought of was this evil, muscular, behemoth. Battle scarred, and a merciless killing machine. The concept of humane did not exist with the men I pictured. No such luck. These men were just like I was, afraid and pissed. Very pissed. I untied the cloth from his mouth. He coughed and sputtered.
"P-Please don't kill me!!!"
"You speak English?"
"Yes! They were using me as a translator."
"Why did you attack me then?"
"Well, what would you do in a situation where a crazed soldier began shooting everything?"
"...Fair 'nuff."
After this, silence reigned. I was sad. I had never killed before and wasn't coping that well. The Furret seemed to notice.
"First time you ever killed someone? I remember when I first had to kill. They had just captured me. They had taken a civilian hostage. They ordered me to shoot or they would shoot me."
"What did you do?"
"I killed her," he said with a tear in his eye.Chapter End Notes:Again R&R please