Enjoy "Battle Buddies". In the event you have any details about the beach for events during the D-Day invasion, I am open to any that would improve the quality of my story.
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Battle
Buddies
“You’re gonna be just fine, buddy. I promise.”
I pressed harder on the wound in his abdomen, but it wouldn’t stop
bleeding. I had to get him help, and
now, or he would die. Aaron looked up at
me, sweat and dirt mingling on his face.
His eyes pleaded with me as he moaned deeply.
“Man, I am gonna die.
I’m gonna die, George!” Aaron
cried as he used his one good arm to hold on to mine. His face was filled with anguish, tears
gushing down his cheeks.
“No, you aren’t. I
am going for help now.” Aaron let out a
deep breath, shut his eyes, the pain overwhelming him.
I
shook him. “Aaron! Do you hear me?” He opened his eyes slightly and closed them
again. I had to hurry. I had to get out of this bunker and get him
help before it was too late. He was my
battle buddy, my best friend since 2nd grade. I wasn’t gonna lose him now and have to tell
his mama he was gone. She wouldn’t be
able to bear it, and neither would I.
I
gathered my weapon in my hands and crept to the edge of the enemy’s cement
bunker. Aaron and I had arrived on the
beach of Normandy as part of the 29th Infantry Division, Company G. Our
mission—to overtake the beach from the Germans.
We had stormed the beach, surprising the enemy first with air attack,
but found that though they were under strength, they were dug in. The Krauts weren’t going to give up this
French beach without a fight. The men we
had taken out in this bunker definitely hadn’t.
I
stole as quickly as I dared across the bodies of the enemy strewn over the
bunker’s stone floor. Aaron and I had been
separated from our unit during the struggle up the beach to the shingle. We had been given orders to clear the bunkers
and continue up the hill at all costs. With grenades at the ready, we charged
the bunkers, and as the Germans emerged, fires blazing, we attacked, jumping
into the underground strong holds. In
the fight, George had suffered gravely, with a gaping wound in the abdomen and
several shots in his right arm. Somehow,
I had been left unscathed.
I
climbed up the side of the bunker to have a peek at the present situation,
while I tried to decide what to do.
Aaron had now lost consciousness, so time was short. A few yards off there was still heavy
fighting among our Allied forces and the Krauts. Mines had exploded everywhere along the
beach. The Germans had prepared well for
an eventual invasion with hedgehogs to block aircraft and buried
explosives. Men from both sides lay
lifeless all along the beach, meeting their maker today.
Suddenly,
I felt myself yanked harshly off the wall, my uniform ripping from the
force. I pushed myself quickly back
against the wall, straightening my helmet, only to see that I wasn’t alone with
Aaron and a bunch of dead Nazis.
Standing before me, his German dagger at his side, was a major of the
German army. Rage in his eyes, he rushed
me, throwing his body over mine. He
brought the dagger to my neck, ready to plunge and sever.
With
all my strength, I pushed back against the arm holding the harbinger of death. Every muscle strained against this enemy who
wanted me dead. I was losing the fight, though.
He outweighed me by more than 30 pounds, at least, and was very
strong. The dagger inched closer and
closer against my neck. I could see
blood crusted along its sheath. Clearly
he had killed others. I would have to
move, and quickly, or that dagger would be in my flesh, tasting my blood.
Instantly,
I let go of his arm and rolled to the side, allowing myself moments before he
would strike again. I looked quickly
around me. My weapon lay behind him on
the ground, abandoned in the struggle.
Luckily, I still had my pistol tucked securely in my boot. Without hesitation, I got to my knees, yanked
the pistol from its hiding place, cocked it, and pulled the trigger, just as
the German rushed at me again.
He
fell to his knees, hitting the cement floor hard, shock covering his dirty
face. He clutched his chest and brought
his hand closer for inspection. With
awe, he looked down to see the blood pouring from the wound close to his
heart. Finally, he gave one last pained
look at me and pitched backward, where he lay spread on the dirt floor, his
eyes staring to the sky, death washing over him.
I
breathed a huge sigh, my heart pounding in my chest, so thankful for my narrow
escape. I ran to retrieve my
weapon. My mission to help Aaron had to
continue. I had to get out of here!
Again,
I scurried up the side of the bunker and scanned the scene quickly, looking
desperately for the Red Cross band of a medic, the only one who could save
Aaron. He needed morphine and field
dressings to stop the bleeding. Not a
single medic in sight. Only death and
destruction in every direction. I would
have to go back out there, though, and find help. He was depending on me. I would
save him and bring him back home to his family.
With
a small prayer and a kiss to my St. Christopher’s medal, I jumped out of the
bunker, my weapon ready to deploy. I
raced along the beach, screaming over and over, “Medic! Medic!”
My screams only drew the attention of the enemy. A bullet whizzed past my ear. I could feel the heat it emitted due to its
close proximity to my head. My heart
raged in my chest as I paused a minute, catching my breath. That had been close.
I
pulled my weapon more securely against me, finger on the trigger, and continued
on through the carnage, repeatedly yelling for help. I ran through the sand,
rocks, and over bodies, firing to clear my path. My goal was no longer a Patriotic duty to my
country. It was to my best friend who
needed me. It was because of me that he
was here in the first place. I had made
him join up with me. He had wanted to go
to college for engineering and build airplanes one day. Instead, I promised him adventure and fame by
joining up. Because we were buddies, he
didn’t want me here by myself and said if I was in it, he would be, too.
How
I regretted pulling him into my dream of being a soldier. This was our first real mission, and I might
lose him. Wiping a tear from my eye, I
spotted a medic behind an abandoned vehicle!
Joy washed over me as I raced in his direction. He knelt over another wounded soldier,
affixing an IV. Others stood with a
stretcher next to him, ready to move the soldier from the battle. Another soldier held field dressings to his
legs and torso, working to stop the bleeding.
I noticed the man had lost his right arm, and I as I surveyed the
situation, I saw that a vehicle had clearly exploded, sending shrapnel all
around the area. Three others lay
lifeless around the vehicle, among them another American.
Dodging
bullets meant for me, I raced to the medic, bounding over downed machinery and
soldiers. Smoke from artillery fire
danced across the sky, making it very difficult to see where I was going. Pausing a moment, I scanned the horizon,
looking again for the medic. Where had
he gone? Finally, I again spotted him. I hurried along a series of hedgehogs. Sweat raged down my face in an angry river,
momentarily blinding me.
Suddenly
a loud boom echoed in my ears. I crashed
to the sand, landing on my back, the breath knocked out of me. I gave a huge gasp as pain soared through my
chest. Oh my God. I have been hit. Something was seriously wrong. I found that as hard as I tried, I couldn’t
move. My arms and legs seemed nailed to
the ground. My mind raced as tears
rolled down my face from the pain. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
You have to make it. Aaron is
counting on you.
I
looked up to see birds circling overhead.
Birds? How strange that they are so calm amid all of
this chaos. I watched them, their
broad wings cutting through the haze, and wished right then that I was in their
company, soaring high above, removed from all of this. Aaron needed me, though. I couldn’t give up. I grit my teeth against the pain and
whispered a small prayer.
Then
with all the strength I could muster, I rolled to my right side. Sharp pain pricked throughout my chest. I curled my body into the fetal position and brought
my hand to my chest to examine the damage.
A hunk of shrapnel, about 3 inches thick, had become imbedded in my
armor. I ran my hand under the armor to
find that I hadn’t been punctured by the projectile. Thank
God. That was a close one. The pain had to have come from the impact of
the blow. I bet I have a few cracked ribs.
Definitely could have been worse.
As
quickly as I dared, I lifted myself from the charred earth and looked around. Men and vehicles lay useless all around
me. How
did I survive that? I couldn’t
believe my good fortune. Maybe God had
been watching out for me. I had a
purpose. It was my duty to save
Aaron.
I
pushed myself up, standing upright slowly.
Dizziness and nausea caused me to stumble. Catching myself on an abandoned jeep, I took
several deep breathes and clenched my arm to my chest. Flashes of fire and smoke consumed the
countryside. It didn’t look like things
had lessoned at all.
“Sgt.
Brown! Sgt. Brown!” Someone was shouting for me. My body stiffened with alarm. I looked behind me to see my platoon leader,
Lt. Rogers, alone but for his weapon. He
motioned me to come to him where he sought cover behind a fire bombed German
tank. Relief filled me. I was no longer alone, and I could get help
for Aaron.
I
raced to the lieutenant, gunfire exploding around me. Ignoring the pain in my chest, I dove behind
the tank.
“Man,
where have you been? The entire platoon
is gone.”
“Gone,
sir?”
“Dead,
Sgt. Right after you and Sgt. Martin took that bunker, most of the men took
direct fire and then there was a blow that took the rest.”
“Sir,
we have to help Sgt. Martin. He was severely
injured in the bunker fight. I promised
him I would bring him help.” Lt. Rogers
wiped sweat from his brow. He, too, was
really just a kid. Had received his
commission only a year ago, and now he was leading men, men who had lost their
lives today. He scanned the scene,
clearly looking for a medic as I had done.
The battle raged on, but there was no medic in sight.
“Well,
Sgt. Let’s head back to the bunker.
Hopefully we will be able to get some help along the way.” Lt. Rogers pulled himself up against the
tank, trying to decide the best way back to the bunker. Chaos surrounded us. I noticed that the officer leaned a bit too
heavily on the tank for support. Blood
was now evident, running down the course of his uniform pants leg. He had been injured.
“Sir. You are hurt.
Are you sure you can make it to the bunker? Maybe you should stay here and wait for help.” He needed a medic quite desperately himself. I now noticed his breathing seemed rather
labored. How had I missed all of this
until now?
“Sgt.
I am fine. Just grazed me. Stop worrying about me. Let’s get to Sgt. Martin.” He took a deep, lingering breath, grasping
his chest.
I
surveyed the situation again. Things
didn’t look good. “We will just have to
make a run for it, Sir. Hope Lady Luck
is on our side.”
The
bunker lay about 100 yards from us. I
drew my weapon close to my body, said yet another prayer for safety, and bound
across the rocky sand, the pain in my chest now a familiar friend. I leapt over men and machinery, everything in
pieces. Turning behind me, I saw the lieutenant
following, holding his chest with one arm, weapon with the other.
Only a few more yards. I could see the bunker
ahead. Almost there. I hoped with
everything I had that when I got back to Aaron he would still be with us.
Dodging
overturned vehicles and bullets that whistled in every direction, I finally
arrived at the bunker, which was desolate.
I jumped into the barren hole, seeing Aaron just as I had left him. I rushed to his side.
“Aaron!” Not responding to my voice, I leaned closely
in. Joy and utter relief filled me as I
felt his breath on my cheek. Weak, but
there. He was still alive!
“He
still alive?” Lt. Rogers stood at the
top of the bunker, gazing in on our reunion.
Smoke swirled around him. Ever so
slowly, he came down into the bunker, pain clearly etched across his face, and
to my side.
“Sir,
he is hanging in there. He just might
make it.” We both smiled down on Aaron.
“Halt! Hände hoch!” Terror seized me. I knew that sound. It was German. I turned and looked upward to see a band of
German soldiers standing at the bunker’s opening, weapons drawn.
“Halt! Hände hoch!” Slowly the lieutenant and I found our
footing, looked to each other, our hands in the air. There was nothing we could do. There had been no time to locate our weapons
and try to defend ourselves. I looked
down at Aaron, helpless. I was at a
loss. What can I do now?
One of the soldiers came
to our sides, pushing us forward roughly, while another grabbed our weapons
from the floor.
“Bewegen! Out! schnell!” I couldn’t
believe this was happening as I was yanked to stand and hit with a large
truncheon on the back.
Another of the soldiers
came to Aaron’s side and kicked him harshly.
Aaron did not move nor utter a sound.
I hoped he was gone and felt no pain.
As an extra measure, the
solider raised his Luger, cocked it, and aimed for Aaron’s head. A maniacal grin flashed across his face as I
struggled against the soldier who held me.
I was helpless. I could do
nothing. How could I stop this and save
Aaron?
Screaming, I heaved
against the soldier with all of my might and pitched out of his grasp to the
hard floor, but I was already too late. The
shot had been fired. I looked up, spitting
the dirt from my mouth, feeling the blood dripping from my chin. Knowing I
would see a bullet through Aaron’s skull, a sob escaped from me.
Instead, I saw that the Nazi
soldier had fallen to the ground, a bullet lodged in his head. Blood had already begun to pool around him on
the floor. With amazement I looked up to
the bunker’s hole. The cavalry had
arrived. Five American soldiers stood
tall and proud, weapons drawn, aimed at our captors. The tables had turned. The captors became the captives, dropping
their weapons to the ground as our men rushed down into the bunker, pushing the
Nazis to the ground, searching them for other weapons.
I ran back to Aaron and
knelt beside him. His eyes cracked open
slightly. He gasped for breath and then
spoke. “I knew you would find help, buddy.” He coughed, closing his eyes, and
then continued. “Now let’s kick some
Nazi ass.”
A small laugh escaped. “We are going to do just that, Aaron.” The discharge of a weapon had never been so
sweet.
