D-Day_Battle on the Beach

by Kate Messner

  Walt’s face burned with heat from the fire. He braced himself and pulled again. The man slid another few inches. They weren’t moving fast enough or far enough. Walt wanted to scream, but his throat burned. The fire and smoke had stolen away his voice.

  How long before the whole jeep blew up around them?

  Walt stared at the stacked-up gasoline cans and ammo boxes as if he could keep the fire away with his eyes. He knew that was impossible.

  But there was something he could do. It might get him killed. Or it might save them all. It was a chance he had to take.

  Walt sucked in a deep gulp of smoky air. Then he raced toward the burning jeep.

  The fire crackled with heat that threatened to burn away Walt’s uniform, but there was no time to stop and think. He had one chance.

  Walt pointed to the wounded soldiers. “Stay with them!” he shouted at Ranger.

  Walt staggered up to the jeep. He squeezed his eyes shut against the heat and smoke and grabbed two of the gas cans in his arms. He lugged them away toward the water and set them down in the sand.

  Then he started back toward the jeep.

  Again and again, Walt plunged into the smoke and flames. Two other men rushed in to help, and together, they hauled away the rest of the gasoline and ammunition. Walt set a box of hand grenades carefully onto the wet sand and collapsed beside it, clutching the back of his leg.

  Ranger raced to Walt’s side and nuzzled his shoulder. Walt clenched his teeth and sat up. He put a hand on Ranger’s back and stood, leaning hard against him. Together, they made their way back to the sheltered area.

  Walt sank down and let out a long breath.

  “You okay, Big Walt?” one of the other soldiers called out.

  Walt grimaced. “Got hit with shrapnel. I need to get this bandaged, and then —”

  Another soldier interrupted him. “What in the devil is a kid doing down here?”

  “What?” Walt winced at the pain in his leg as he stood. He stared out over the sand and rocks. “Oh no.”

  Leo had left the concrete pillbox. He was walking toward them, lugging the cat under one arm. Just ahead of him was the deadly stretch of beach Walt had crossed with Ranger.

  Leo was headed straight for the land mines.

  “No!” Walt shouted up the beach. “Go back!”

  But the wind and waves swallowed his words. The boy kept coming.

  Walt looked down at the golden retriever who had led him over the treacherous stretch of sand. It was a long shot. But this shaggy dog was the kid’s only hope. He snapped his fingers at Ranger. “Hey! Dog!” He pointed out over the beach toward Leo. “Go get him! Help him! Okay? Go on!” He patted Ranger’s backside and pointed again.

  Ranger started out over the rocky beach.

  “Careful!” Walt shouted.

  Ranger barked, and the boy looked up. But he didn’t stop walking. He was close to the part of the beach with the danger smell.

  Ranger barked again. Leo stopped walking and looked up.

  “Wait!” Walt was still shouting from the shingle. “Stop! Wait!”

  Ranger wanted to run to help Leo. But he had to go slowly, letting his nose lead him over the sand. Twice, he caught the sharp, earthy danger smell and circled around that spot on the sand. Finally, he reached Leo.

  Leo squatted down and gave Ranger a scratch behind his ear with the hand that wasn’t holding the cat.

  “It’s okay, dog,” Leo said. “The fighting’s mostly over. The jeep fire’s burning out. It’s safe. I’m just going to make sure Walt is all right.” He started forward, but Ranger stepped in front of him.

  “What is it, dog?” Leo asked, trying to move around Ranger.

  Ranger pawed at Leo’s leg and moved to block him again.

  “Go on, then.” Leo waited, and Ranger started forward through the sand and weeds. When he smelled the danger smell, he stopped and sat down.

  “Come on, dog.” Leo urged Ranger on.

  Ranger stayed put. Walt had known to circle around the chemical smell. Why didn’t Leo understand? Ranger barked. Then he pawed at Leo, nudging him away from the strange smell. He barked again and started around that area of sand.

  “You want me to follow you?” Leo said. “Okay.”

  Ranger led him on a winding path through the mines. Once the danger was behind them, he started trotting toward the sheltered area where the soldiers were resting.

  Walt had harsh words for Leo when they arrived. “I told you to stay put!”

  “It seemed safe. I —”

  “Safe?” Walt shook his head. “You just walked through an active minefield, kid. This time, you need to listen and stay here. We need to get the balloons up by dark, before the German planes come back. Then we’ll get you home.”

  Leo swallowed hard and nodded. He looked back up the beach and a shiver ran down his spine. Leo had seen the fallen men on the sand up there. He figured they’d been shot when the battle first started. But no. They’d been killed by exploding mines. Mines that could have killed him, too.

  Leo looked down at Ranger. “You saved me, didn’t you?” he whispered. Still holding the cat under one arm, he sank to his knees and wrapped the other around Ranger’s neck. “Thank you, dog.”

  Ranger leaned into Leo’s hug until the cat took a swipe at him. Then he pulled away and looked around. The soldiers were all reloading guns or eating or treating one another’s injuries. One man had pulled out a soggy bandage to wrap Walt’s leg wound.

  “Sorry, this is the best I’ve got,” the soldier said. “My whole pack got wet when we landed.”

  “I can help, now that I’m here,” Leo said quietly.

  Ranger wandered away. He poked around the shingle until he found his first aid kit. There was no humming. It sat quietly, nestled in the pebbles.

  Ranger had arrived in the middle of a fierce battle. He’d helped Walt save the soldiers from the waves. He’d found Leo in the fallen-down farmhouse. He’d roused Walt to save him from the burning jeep and led both of them safely through the minefield. When would he get to go home? Ranger pawed at the old metal box, but it still didn’t make a sound.

  “Hey, wait. That looks dry,” one of the soldiers said. He reached over, picked up Ranger’s first aid kit, and opened it. “Here we go.” He pulled out some bandages.

  Leo poured clean water over Walt’s leg wound. Then he helped the soldier wrap it in a clean, dry bandage.

  “You going to be a doctor one day?” Walt asked.

  Leo shook his head. “I want to be a teacher like my father,” he said. “But my grandmother is a nurse. She taught all of us a bit of medicine. Papa said that was good. We have to care for one another since no one else does.” He looked at Walt and whispered, “My family is Jewish. They treat us like we’re not even people. It’s been …” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Sorry. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Walt put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I understand more than you think,” he said quietly. “In America, people like me know how it feels to be looked at like you’re worth less than everyone else. That’s why we’re here,” he added. “Part of it anyway. To prove we can do a job just as good as anybody. Twice as good. Even in the army, they keep us separate, like we can’t do the same work.” He looked out over the beach. “But here we are, aren’t we? Pretty soon, we’ll get our balloons in the sky to keep the German planes away tonight. After that, we’ll follow whatever orders come next. Then maybe when we get home …” He didn’t finish.

  “You good now, Big Walt?” one of the other soldiers called over.

  “Let’s go.” Walt pushed himself up and looked down at Leo. “You stay here this time. I mean it.”

  “I will,” Leo said.

  Walt nodded. “All right, then. Time to raise some balloons.”

  The light was already fading when Walt and the other men from his battalion began moving balloons into place. Walt’s leg wound burned, but there was no time to rest. German planes would ar
rive with the darkness, carrying bombs meant to take out the Allied forces hunkered down on the beaches and along the ridge. It was a race against time, and the wind wasn’t helping.

  Walt and two other men had just begun unwinding the cable to raise the first balloon when a gust whipped over the beach. The balloon’s mooring lines were weighted down with sandbags, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Hold the cables!” Walt called. Every man grabbed a line and held on. The balloon bucked in the wind, a wild horse trying to break free. “Keep the nose in the air or we’ll lose it!”

  A mooring line snapped loose from a heap of sandbags.

  “Watch out!” someone shouted.

  Ranger barked.

  Walt raised his hands to shield his face. The cable whipped against him, but he grabbed at it. The steel line slid through his gloves, but at the last second, he got a grip on it and planted his feet in the sand. “Hold on!” he shouted to the other men.

  The wind roared over the waves. It gave the balloon one last great tug that nearly lifted Walt off his feet. But then it let up for a moment, and that was all it took for the men to secure the lines again.

  “We can’t wait any longer,” one of the soldiers said, looking at the darkening sky. “We have to get it up. Ready?”

  “Ready!” Walt secured his line to a sandbag and hurried to the winch that controlled the balloon’s main cable. Slowly, bit by bit, he let out the line that allowed the balloon to rise. The other men guided their mooring lines until the big metallic balloon floated like a shadow two thousand feet over the beach.

  Walt let out a long breath. The balloons’ defense wasn’t perfect, but any German pilot who dared to fly low over their troops would risk having his plane brought down by a wing snagged in the cables.

  This first balloon was only a start.

  “Let’s go! We have to keep moving!” Walt shouted. He worked alongside the other men from the 320th all night long. Twice, he heard the buzz of a German plane. Twice, the pilots approached and suddenly veered away. Had the balloons scared them off?

  There was no time to celebrate. Too much work still had to be done.

  Ranger stayed near Walt and the other soldiers for a while, but they kept tripping over him. Finally, he left and went to sit with Leo in the dark.

  The cat was already curled up, asleep, but Leo was sitting, looking out at the teams of men working all over the beach. “They really came,” he whispered. “Mémère promised they would. I so wanted to believe, but I wondered. Two years is such a long time to wait.” Leo yawned and patted Ranger on the head.

  Ranger didn’t know what Leo was saying, but he understood that sometimes people just needed to talk. They didn’t expect you to understand or answer. Luke did that sometimes, especially when he was sad or scared. When Leo finally curled up and closed his eyes, Ranger snuggled close beside him. But he stayed awake all night long, watching the men work on the beach, waiting for them to finish.

  Maybe then, Ranger’s work here would be done, too.

  When the sun woke Leo at dawn, a dozen balloons hung in a curtain over the beach. Walt and the other men had already loaded up their things.

  “Is it time to go?” Leo asked. He stood and brushed the wet sand from his trousers. “Do you want me to carry something?”

  “Sure. Good to have this, just in case.” Walt handed Ranger’s first aid kit to Leo.

  “Are you all going to stay in our village?” Leo asked.

  Walt shook his head. “Not for long. My battalion will be here awhile manning the balloons to protect the beach while they bring in more trucks and supplies. After that … we’ll go wherever we’re needed next.” He let out a long, tired sigh. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”

  Leo scooped up his cat and fell into line with the soldiers. Ranger walked between him and Walt. They made a long, wide circle around the dangerous area with the mines. They climbed over the ridge and along the plateau.

  Soon, Leo spotted his village in the early morning light. His eyes landed on the heap of wood and stone where the Blancs’ farmhouse used to be. It was completely destroyed. But when they got closer, Leo’s heart lifted with hope. Mr. Blanc and the boys were walking toward the barn. They’d survived the night in the ditch!

  Leo wanted to run ahead to meet them but thought he should stay with Walt and the other men, so he kept marching. The village was full of Allied soldiers. Even with all the damage from Allied bombs in the days before the invasion, people smiled and waved at them. Women brought out jugs of cider. Children chased after the American jeeps with bouquets of flowers.

  The Blancs were near the barn door, talking with some American servicemen when Leo and the others arrived. Belle squirmed in Leo’s arms, and he put her down so she could go inside. Mr. Blanc looked up. “Henri!” he called.

  Leo dropped the first aid kit in the weeds and ran into the farmer’s arms.

  Mr. Blanc turned to Walt and the other men. “Thank you. We never gave up hope. We knew you’d come.” Then he looked down at Ranger. “Is this an Allied dog?”

  “I guess so,” Leo said. He looked at Walt.

  Walt nodded, though he still didn’t know where the dog had come from. He looked back over his shoulder. The other men in his battalion were already moving on. “I should go. We have work to do. But I wish you all well.” He started off toward the other men.

  “Wait!” Leo called out. He ran to Walt and took his hand. “Thank you. I … I just wish you could stay.”

  “It’s all right.” Walt knelt down. “You’ll be safe now.”

  “But what if the Germans come back?” Leo said in a small voice.

  “They won’t,” Walt said. “We’ll make sure. Look.” He pointed to the monument down the road. During the occupation, German soldiers had taken down the French flag in the village square. Today, three of the local men were raising it again, with Allied soldiers looking on. Seeing the red, white, and blue of his country’s flag made Leo feel a little better.

  Mr. Blanc stepped up to his side. “Soon, the Allies will liberate Paris,” he said, “and your grandmother will come for you.”

  “And the rest of my family?” Leo said.

  “I hope so.” Mr. Blanc swallowed hard and looked away. “I will never stop hoping.”

  “Neither will I,” Leo said. He turned back to Walt. “Thank you. Again.” He knelt down. “And thank you, too, dog. I’ll never forget you.” He gave Ranger a tight hug.

  Ranger nuzzled Leo’s shoulder. The boy smelled like sand and salt and sweat. Also, cat.

  Ranger sneezed. Leo gave him one last pat, waved good-bye to Walt, and headed off to help the Blancs find the rest of their animals.

  “Take care,” Walt said, and started walking away.

  Ranger stood by the barn. He watched Leo, hurrying down the road to catch up to Mr. Blanc. Leo was safe now.

  Ranger looked at Walt, falling into line with the other soldiers. There was no more gunfire today. The smoke was clearing. The air was crisp and quiet.

  Except for a quiet hum coming from the weeds.

  Walt looked back over his shoulder. “You coming, dog?”

  Ranger sat down. He wasn’t. The humming was already getting louder. It was time to go home.

  Walt jogged back to Ranger. “You staying here? All right.” Walt squatted down and gave Ranger’s neck a good scratch. When he did, a folded-up paper fell from his jacket pocket. It was soggy and torn, but Walt could still make out the words printed on it. It was his order from General Eisenhower. “The eyes of the world are upon you …”

  Walt looked down at Ranger. “You carried out your duty as well as any of us, dog. Here …” He folded up the soggy paper and tucked it under Ranger’s collar. “You remember Big Walt, all right?” He gave Ranger one more scratch and ran to catch up with the rest of the soldiers.

  Ranger turned and poked through the weeds until he found his first aid kit. It was humming loudly now.

  Ranger nuzzled the strap over his neck. Th
e old metal box grew warm at his throat. Light spilled from the cracks. The humming grew louder and louder. The light became brighter and brighter. Soon, Ranger couldn’t see the soldiers or the fallen-down farmhouse or the village anymore. He felt as if he were being squeezed through a hole in the sky. He closed his eyes until the humming finally stopped.

  When he opened them, Luke was walking into the mudroom with a dish of cold water.

  “Here you go, Ranger!” Luke said. “No wonder you’re thirsty. That was some day at the beach, huh?”

  Ranger lowered his head and let the first aid kit fall to his dog bed. He nuzzled Luke’s hand and dipped his head for a good, long drink of water. While he drank, Luke stroked the fur on his back.

  “You’ve still got some sand in your fur,” he said. “We’ll have to get out the dog brush later. Or you could have a bath.” He patted Ranger’s head and then said, “Hey … what’s this?”

  Luke pulled out the scrap of paper and unfolded it. “ ‘You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months,’ ” he read. “ ‘The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you …’ It’s by General Eisenhower. Wasn’t he a World War Two guy?” Luke looked down at Ranger. “Where’d you get this? You didn’t chew up my social studies textbook, did you?” Luke stood and picked up his school bag from the mudroom bench. He poked through it and pulled out a book. It was fine. “Huh,” Luke said, looking down at the paper.

  Ranger looked up at Luke. He pawed at Luke’s hand, and Luke laughed. “Okay … I’m sorry I accused you of chewing up my school stuff. Here …” He dropped the slip of paper onto Ranger’s dog bed. “Don’t know where you found that, but it’s all yours.”

  “Luke!” Sadie called from the porch. “Mom wants you to come help put away the beach toys!”

  When Luke was gone, Ranger took another good, cold drink from his water dish. It really had been quite a day at the beach.