Simply Shorts
Page 11
We were nothing more than kids, babes in the woods as it were. All that would change that fateful day. We were green as grass, but full of piss and vinegar. The courage of a thousand brave men rolled up into one brave heart beat in our chests that day. Scared? Hell yeah, 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 was our target landing area. We were to take it at any cost. 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, rained a steady barrage down on our heads, from which there was nowhere to hide. Bobby Franklin, right beside me, all of a sudden was blown bloody into the raging current. 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. 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 they were still being blown systematically to bits by the heavy German barrage from the hills above.
Suddenly we were on the beach and running for our lives. I saw a man whose legs were blown completely off. He was crawling, dragging the bloody stumps behind him. One man who had lost his arm and looking for it in the rubble, was blown to pieces by a mortar 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. There was no help for him, and he expired 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. I 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.
Timothy Weary