This is a story about the landing on Omaha Beach in WWII. It is not a true story but it could have been. Any comments of course are welcome. Marvin.

The Beach, short story by Marvin K. Perkins

We were nothing more than kids, babes in the woods as it were. But all that would change that fateful day. We were green as grass but full of piss and vinegar and the courage of a thousand brave men rolled up into one brave heart that beat in our chests that day. Scared, hell yea we were scared. Crammed in the launch like a bunch of sardines ready to be served for lunch to the hungry German soldiers that awaited us on the beach. Omaha beach our target landing area and we were to take it at all costs. We all knew what that meant. A lot of brave men would die that day but we had to do our job so that others could be free of the tyranny of the Reich. Hitler’s finest were entrenched on the high ground above the beach and there would be hell to pay to knock them down off that pedestal.

Before we were even a hundred yards from the beach we started taking heavy fire. Machine guns, 88’s, and God knows what else reigned a steady barrage down on our heads from which there was no where to hide. Bobby Franklin, right beside me all of a sudden was blown bloody into the raging current and Ray Carson’s head tumbled in the drink, his helmet careened off the side of the boat with an eerie sound. Blood flowed in our launch like water as men cried and yelled in pain, praying for a way out but there was none only the sea. Some did take solace there only to be quickly drawn into the depths and were not seen again presumed drowned. We would have prayed for their souls but there was no time. Only time to duck for cover but there was no cover so we clung to each other and even those who didn’t believe in God believed and prayed to him that day.

We saw the beach coming up fast and knew it would soon be time to make a run for cover. We were supposed to take the beach but hell we would be lucky just to live long enough to make it there. Those who had already made it to the beach cowered behind anything they could find but were still being blown systematically to bits by the heavy German barrage from the hills above.

Then suddenly we were on the beach and running for our lives. I saw a man whose legs were blown completely off and he was crawling dragging the bloody stumps behind him. One man who had lost his arm was looking for in the rubble and was blown to pieces by a mortal shell not 20 yards away from our position. The bullets careened by us some finding their marks others simply passing by and doing no harm.

Medic, medic we need a medic over here one man yelled at the top of his lungs. But there was no help for him and he died in the sand, blood soaked writhing in excruciating pain. Many of our comrades in arms died but through the grace of God I lived through that day on the beach to tell this story. Every day I am thankful and anytime I see a beach and fireworks even at Disneyland I remember that day so long ago and get down on my knees and thank God once again for sparing me. Letting me live, marry and see my children grow up. I never take for granted the freedom we enjoy in this great land of ours we call America the beautiful.







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