He could taste salt and gun smoke on his tongue. It was early in the morning but no sleep had come to him last night and adrenaline and fear forced him awake now. There was a rattling of metal and a high screech before an explosion nearby rocked the landing craft he was in. The seawater sloshed across his shins as he hoisted his gun across his chest and pulled his helmet lower over his forehead. In front of him there were three rows of men and a metal barrier set to drop upon landing. On all sides there was nothing but open air and ocean, nothing ahead but endless sand. There was no room for failure here today. The men around him remained quiet, a subdued hush that spread across the choppy water to the other landing crafts. Shouts could be heard ahead on the beach, but none spoke out on the water.
Suddenly the craft lurched and slammed to a halt, forcing him to stumble into the soldier ahead of him. There were shouts and the barrier shuddered down and then the water hit him as the soldiers rushed forward. He surged with them, lifting his gun and raising his head against the onslaught of water. A splash to his left had him stutter as his neighbor fell into rapidly red turning water. There was no room for failure here today though, and so he must move on. Onward and forward he trudged as the water hit his waist and then his chest.
He was running now, side to side as his feet felt solid sand beneath him and the pounding surf relented as he rose above the waves of the shoreline. An explosion rocked him from his feet and the world spun as he hit the sand hard. Just steps from the water, the spray burned his throat while fiery salt seared his eyes. Disoriented and panicking he lurched to his feet to move forward again. There was blood along his hairline and he wouldn't have known the difference if the copper hadn’t spilled into his mouth.
Hefting his gun he fired at the bright spots along the cliff line, but the salt stung his eyes causing his aim to be wildly off. It was no longer quiet. Guns were snapping across the wind and he could hear the whistling of artillery landing closer and closer. Men were dropping around him like puppets with their strings cut. Somehow, he was still moving forward. The cliff side of sand rose before him and he dug in his heels as he sprinted upwards.
The sky was dripping blood. He could feel it prickling across his skin like electric wire. Iron and copper filled his mouth while salt stung his eyes. His pack and his gun grew heavier with every step up the sandy cliff he took, heavy with the burden of the fate of the world on his shoulders. He was firing almost blindly upwards at the enemy he knew was there, hoping that somehow a bullet would find its mark.
There were shouts across the line and as he looked around another shell detonated in front of him and the blast carried him backwards to land hard on his left leg and back. His gun flung from his hand and his head exploded with a kaleidoscope of colors and static. Rolling he scrambled to find up but every time he opened his eyes it was a fog of light and smoke and sand. He couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in his ears and the rattling of his brain knocked loose from the blast. He found his legs beneath him with sand below and sky above and he tried to rise but crumpled to the ground as his leg gave out. He rolled again to find his gun but his hand scrabbled at nothing but sand.
There was no room for failure.
A hand seized his shoulder and hauled him to his feet. Shouted words of encouragement reached him through his deafened ears and he pushed himself forward, his leg barely holding his weight. A handgun was shoved into his free hand and he immediately fired upwards. The cliff side rose before them as they struggled upwards and the wind continued to throw sand in their faces.
Onward and forward.
Onward.
There was nothing but salt and sea, fire and smoke, blood and earth. Everything wrapped up and carried away by the wind.
To all those who fought and continue to fight for freedom, here and across the world and time.
So this is many weeks and days late, but I wrote this to commemorate the 75th Anniversary of the Invasion of Normandy or the D-Day Invasions on June 6th. I wanted to take a snapshot of the scenes on the beach as a practice on some of my descriptive skills as well as leave the story open ended. Everyone knows the story of D-Day, so there was no need to go into plot lines and story details, all we needed was to be in the moment. Of course, I could never imagine the horror and terror of the actual invasion, so this is the best I could hope for.
:) Kathryn
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