| Author | Message | ||
     Kyle Marcy |
The sea rocked the landing craft port to starboard. The air smelt of salt and a thin mist filled the air. Up ahead, was 'Utah beach' as the guys at HQ had named it. He was looking forward to getting off this can since leaving Exeter, on the southern side of the UK. The British had been very hospitable. He was sorry he had to leave, especially since he didn't like the destination all that much. Normandy was an ugly, war torn, rocky peice of land on the northwestern side of France, swarming with Germans. Beach liberation was one of the worst jobs on an allied officer. Marcy, in this case, was the tipical American soldier with a double-bar captain's insignia on his helmet. His name was 'Mallory', actually, if you were referring to the character he portrayed. Marcy turned to see Farley, a major carrieing a Browning Assault Rifle and looking somewhat out of place. Marcy did not know Farley's character name, so he simply referred to him as Sir or Major when speaking until told otherwise. "Major, looks like Normandy up ahead, and the Krauts have a good reception planned for us..." Farley nodded, speaking now, "Prepare to disembark" All of the roughnecks on the landing craft nodded, shoting a chorused "Good to go!" The landing craft hit the beach, and everyone on the ship flooded out onto the beach, some making it to the Dragon's Teeth on the beach. Some, unfortunatly, died quickly from MG42 and Mauser rifle fire. Marcy quickly jumped down and found some cover behind a Dragon's tooth, machine gun fire whizzing by his head and comrades around him falling and slowly bleeding, some dead, some raiseing their hands towards the sky, preying to god, and asking to see their loved ones one last time. Marcy just kept his head down until the rest of the allied invasion regrouped at "point alpha". This would most certainly be interesting, he thought, smiling inwardly. |