“We just got new orders from the front.” The commander says lighting a match.

“We have to move up and reinforce the 184th Airborne. They are pinned down and can’t get to the extraction point. It’s a simple task.” The commander says pointing at the map strung up on the wall.

“Why don’t the 35th move up and help them? We have had our fair share of fighting for one day!” Pvt. Jonson says snarling and looking at the commander with disgust.

“Well Jonson. Commend wants the best Darn division to bail them out! No are you going to argue and let those men all die! Or are you going to ready up and help them?” The commander says looking only at Pvt. Jonson.
“Yes Sir! No man left behind!” Pvt. Jonson says putting his pack back on.

“Good. We move in 1 hour. Get ready for a bumpy ride.” The commander says turning and walking out of the tent. I look down and pull a picture out of my pocket. I look at it for a good few minutes then I put it away. I pick up my head and scan the interior of the tent. A few small tears in the canvas top and a few small markings of peace and good luck.

I stand up and Start walking towards the door and someone says my name behind me.

“Hey Cooper!” I turn around and see it’s my good friend Dave. We have been friends for what seems like forever. We used to ride bikes together as kids and our fathers used to work at the same lumber mill in the late 30s. We used to ride in the back of my father’s Ford Pickup truck and pretend we were in a plane and fighting the Germans.

Now it was true. We are at war with the Germans. We see people constantly dying in front of our eyes. The Eyes that used to be blue and bright are now dulled and gray by all the blood and death that I have seen. The well-trimmed facial hair was now a scraggly beard. When I look in the mirrors around the encampments I barely know it’s me.

“Cooper! What are you doing? Day dreaming again!” Dave says with a grin on his dirt covered face. I snap back to reality and chuckle at his foolish words.

“No sir I aint!” I say looking at him and pointing at his dirt covered face. “You got a little bit of crud on your face Davy boy!” I say pointing at his face with one eye closed.

“I do? Well I better get that off then!” Dave says rubbing his face. “Did I get it?” he says as serious as possible.
“Sure. Now it only looks like you haven’t showered in three years not five.” I say laughing as I pull out a small ration of cigarettes out of my jacket pocket and search for my matches.

“Hey Cooper. Need light?” Dave asks as he pulls out a small packet of matches out of his coat pocket. I reach over and take the packet of matches pull one out of the packet and strike it on the lighting strip. The sweet smell of the fresh lit match fills the air around me. I cover the match with my hands and put it to the end of my cigarette. The cigarette lights and puff on it to keep it going.

“Here are your matches Davey boy.” I say tossing him the packet of matches.

“It’s been a hard fight to get here Cooper but we made it. We are finally taking the fight to them!” Davey says standing up and patting me on the back. I smile and puff on my cigarette while I bend over to pick up my backpack off the bench. I reach over and grab my rifle. A Springfield Sniper rifle. The same gun I have had since in the deserts Africa. The stock is scratched up and weathered like everything else that has lasted this long in the war.
I slide the rifle over my shoulder and make for the door to the tent. I push aside the cloth on the front of the tent and everything unfolds in front of me. The muddy unkempt paths on the hills and bluffs around the encampment. Men walking down the muddy dirt paths to their squads and others just walking and talking with their buddies.

I hear the groaning of gasoline engines in the distance and a see a few tanks being dropped off on the shore. It was a long hard fight for these beaches. A lot harder that what command had thought. Hundreds of men dead. Gunned down in cold blood. Only just recruits. The minute the doors dropped they did too.

The Beaches of Normandy France would never be the same after the amount of blood that had been spilled on them sunk into the grains of sand that made up the miles of shoreline.

I walk slowly as I puff on my cigarette. The commander wanted us out in an hour and we were grouping up for deployment. We were going to be moving with the 84th armored division. The 184th had just reported a German armor column moving due west from the drop site. They reported Fifteen Panther tanks, three
PZ. IV tanks, and Five Heavy hitting Tiger tanks. Everyone shivered as the commander uttered the name “Tiger”. It’s the most feared tank in the world. Tanks knocked out in one shell from its big 8.8cm KwK 36L/56 gun.
The sound of the gasoline engines grew closer as the commander told us how we were going to attack. I turn to my left and see tanks rolling up the hill towards us. Fresh off the assembly line M4A3E8 tank was quick and maneuverable. Its armor was on the low side but its gun was the real kicker. Twenty of the “Easy 8s” Where moving up with us. Also Fifteen M18 Hellcats were moving up with us. The Hellcats were lightly armored and extremely quick. Its gun was a 90mm that could punch a hole through a Panther with ease.

“Cooper. Get on the 50 Cal. On the Hellcat.” The commander says pointing towards the Hellcat. I look at the tank and see that the tank crew is very experienced with the tank. Thirteen black crosses are painted on the side of the tank. Indicating that they have had thirteen armored kills. A high for the weak armored tank destroyer.
I take my backpack off and throw it on the back of the tank. I climb up on the back of the tank and grab the 50 Cal. Mounted on the turret of the tank.
“Check the magazine for the gun Cooper. If it’s low ask for some when you are passing the bunker near the eastern road. We stocked up on shells in the bunker.” Captain Spears says looking up from the bottom of the tank.
I unclip the cartridge from the gun and see that it’s full and clip it back on the gun. I pull back on the steel rod to inject a shell into the gun barrel.

“Good luck men! Bring our boys back home!” The tanks gasoline engines scream to life as one by one they lurch forward and not long at all we are off. I look back at the beaches as we drive away from them. The battle ships anchored off the coast silhouetted in the sunshine made me think of my home back in America. My wife to be waiting at home patently for the war end and for me to return home. Either alive or in a body bag.

“Strap in Cooper. It’s going to be a long ride from here to there.” The gunner in the tank says to me as he peeps his head out of the top the tank.

I smile and say “It’s no sin to me to rest for a long trip. Wake me up when we get into a scrap!” I sat laughing and leaning against the back of the turret on the tank with my backpack behind me as a back support.

The Gunner laughs and goes back inside the tank. I close my eyes after taking one more look at the shoreline and its miles of beaches and bunkers lining them. I then dose off into a light sleep as the tank steams forward toward enemy lines.

Ting! Ping! Ting! I hear the sounds of what I think to be rain tinging off the top of the tank. I slowly open my eyes to see the rain slowly falling onto the top of the tank. I pull myself up on the top of the tank and see that we were moving through a small village. “It’s too quiet.” I mumble to myself looking around pointing the gun at the small windows in the buildings.

As I start to relax and to let down my guard I hear a huge clap of what I think is thunder then I fell the ground shake underneath the tank. Dirt that is now flying through the air hits my tank and hits my face as well. I turn and see the first tank in our row has been hit and set on fire! I watch in horror as the top hatch opens up and a crew member falls out completely on fire and screaming to the devil. He falls off the back of the tank and rolls on the ground trying to extinguish the fire but it’s no use. He had already suffered severe burns and had burnt to death on the floor.

I scream at the commander “We have to keep moving! We need to stay behind cover from the guns!” I no more than utter the words out of my mouth and I hear another large BANG! The shell wizzes in and hits the tank at the rear of our row. Instantly the tank explodes and the turret blows off into the sky. The shell hit the shell storage blowing it all up at once. The once called tank was now a box of smoldering steal.

“The left flank! In the bushes! I think it’s a Panther sir!” The gunner says using binoculars to scout out the location of the hidden tank. “She’s aiming right for u….” He doesn’t finish his sentence. I look over where he is and he’s draping over the side of the turret. I pick him up and see that a sniper had put a shell strait through his skull.

“The gunner is dead!” I yell to the commander “What are we gonna do?” I ask pulling the dog tags off of the gunners’ dead body.

“You! Cooper! Go scout out the tank! We can’t see it from here! Take this radio to radio in the position and then pop some smoke for effect!” the commander says turning the tank so we were hidden from the enemy’s view. I jump down off of the tank and start running towards the nearby buildings for cover.