TDTLBU Chapter Forty-Five

The odds were impossible. An open stretch of sand three hundred yards wide and the enemy at the vantage point high above on the cliffs. There was no time to stop and return fire. The defenseless soldiers down on the beach were running a bloody gauntlet with little chance of survival. 

Gripping his rifle and lowering his head, Ronnie charged onto the beach, dodging the rain of fire. A bullet tore through the sleeve of his coat and he felt another graze the side of his helmet, but he kept on, jaw clenched in determination. Before him and behind him and beside him, men were falling… stumbling backwards as machine gun fire slammed into their bodies and sagging lifelessly to the ground. Glancing over his shoulder, he could barely make out the forms of the men behind him… they were obscured in the blackness of flying sand and debris. He didn’t even know any longer if they were men from his unit. Didn’t know how many had made it through or how many were already dead. 

As black as the scene was before him, it became blacker still as a man just a few yards ahead of him stepped on a hidden land mine, disappearing in the explosion that followed. Ronnie collapsed to his knees from the force of the blast, the wind knocked out of him as something hard and heavy slammed against his chest. For a moment he crouched motionless in the sand, wondering if he was dead. But he found he could rise again, managing to stay on his feet as he stumbled over the fallen men that were piling over the ground.

It was only by chance… or perhaps it was a miracle… that he recognized one of the bodies stretched out on the sand. His heart heavy and yet too numb to grieve, he crouched down beside his fallen friend, lifting his limp body and draping it across his shoulders. The added weight made his slow progress across the beach more difficult than he ever could have imagined...

But he never faltered. 

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"Come on, boys!" Mac called over his shoulder to the remaining members of his unit and the many stragglers that had joined them. He had lost sight of Ronnie who, just one moment before, had been in front of him. He had seen him fall, but hadn’t seen him rise and was certain that he was already dead. Desperate to find some semblance of order, Mac assumed immediate command of those around him. Seeing a clear path across the sand littered already with bodies and the hulking black of the German beach obstacles, he pushed ahead, leading the way.

And suddenly, the world exploded around him. Sand and debris showered in his face, blinding his eyes. He clawed at his face, desperate to see, but he couldn't stand anymore. A searing, gnawing, red-hot pain where his right leg had been only moments ago rammed fiercely through his entire body as he collapsed on the sand, unconscious.

✯✯✯

Several men had finally made it alive to the foot of the cliffs, sheltering in their shadow. Many had dragged the wounded there. Medics were working frantically to bandage wounds and administer morphine. They were actively doing blood transfusions, as much as was possible. 

Gasping for breath and choking on sand and gunpowder, Ronnie dropped to his knees at the foot of the cliffs. He had left Josh with the medics, although he had found no signs of life in his friend’s body. It wasn’t the first time that Ronnie had allowed himself to weep and he knew that it wouldn’t be the last. But in spite of the anguish that filled his soul, he grit his teeth and lifted his head, knowing he wouldn’t back down. His resolution to fight was stronger now than ever and he pulled himself to his feet once again, turning back to the open ground. 

“They won’t die in vain,” he muttered under his breath as he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. The second wave of infantry was just now embarking, sweeping out onto the beach in massive numbers. They fell just as quickly as the first wave. The tide was spewing dark red water onto the dark red sand. 

The invasion wasn’t going as planned. The tanks were not making it through to shore. Those tanks were vital. And so was staying together. As impossible a task as it seemed, Ronnie knew the men would need to be regrouped and organized somehow. They stood all around him now, hundreds of men with faces streaked with blood and grime, staring out at the carnage behind them with eyes that had seen far too many horrors. They were afraid. But anger was stronger than fear… and they were angry. 

“If this is going to work,” Ronnie spoke grimly to those closest to him. “We have to destroy the defenses on top. We have to get up there."

“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” one of the soldiers snapped. He was gripping his left arm, blood dripping beneath his fingers. 

Ronnie said nothing. But his eyes flashed fire and he clenched his jaw. He made mental count of the men around him as he peered through the black smoke and swirling sand. Lieutenant Billings he had seen shot down only a few minutes earlier. Sergeant O’Ryan and Sergeant Carter were both gone. He realized with a sinking feeling that he was the only officer within sight. The Germans were known for picking off those in command. He knew it was left to him now to take charge of those around him.

“Alright, men, let’s move it!” he yelled at anyone who would listen. “We hang around on this beach any longer, we’ll all be dead! If you lost your gun, there’s plenty out there, grab one and fight! We won't die in vain!"

The men around him sprang into action immediately, having needed only someone to take charge. They weren’t afraid to fight, they simply weren’t sure what to do. None of them had ever been in this kind of combat before.

“God, I’m counting on you to get us through,” Ronnie muttered through clenched teeth. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” It was the only prayer he allowed time for. He had dozens of men back in action around him and waiting for further orders.

✯✯✯

Major Donahue noted all that took place in his sector that day. Watched with approval as a mismatched group of men crawled along toward the foot of the cliffs, armed and organized and returning fire on the enemy. One soldier moved out ahead of the others, in full view of the enemy overhead. He pinned his eyes on that single soldier, watching as he climbed.

“That man’s a fool,” Lieutenant Craig  yelled. “A damn, crazy fool!” 

Major Donahue smiled. The lone soldier was making slow progress. He reached out for a foothold and slipped, nearly falling, but he was climbing again. Other men were following him now. Some fell as they were shot down, tumbling back to the foot of the cliffs. Others took their places. The first man had somehow… miraculously… made it nearly to the top. It was simple then. A few grenades was all it took. An entire nest of machine gunners disappeared into a cloud of smoke and ash. A few minutes and the one next to it was destroyed. An opening was made. The soldier beckoned to those beneath him and they rushed the cliffs wildly. Dozens at first and then hundreds, once they realized there was a way up. Just another one of many small victories achieved to contribute towards the great victory.

“A fool, you say?” the Major called back to the Lieutenant. “You mean a hero.” He made a mental note to find the soldier, if he had survived. Here was a man worthy of a silver star. He had seen many such brave and foolhardy actions today. This bloody hell was turning ordinary men into extraordinary heroes.

The victory didn’t happen at once. Bit by bit, piece by piece, the battered, broken army surged forward. Fueled by determination, eyes sparked with rage, the men who had seen their brothers die at their sides fought fiercely. Not one would die in vain. It was the unspoken rallying cry of the survivors.