Longest Day

The comfort of my families laughter and the log burners warmth gives me the sweetest, most wholesome feeling. A feeling that rushes through my veins and re-news my sences all at once. Mine and Mary's new addition to the family is flailing his arms. I kneel down beside the delicately-weaved crib and reach for my son. But too soon, he's gone.

I'm back in the vessel and now all consiousness is regained. The contents of my fellow commrades stomaches fills the air, and my nostrils are introduced to the purtid smell of sweat and vomit. I can't take it- the smells, the orders, the pain, the panic, the sea, the people, the noise. Stop! I catch my breathe. If i'm going to get out of this alive, then I need to get my messed up head in check. Acknowleging my new curcumstances brings me back to reality. The look on the surrounding mens alarmed, sad faces tells me that it won't be long untill we reach the beaches of France. And soon enough, the ships tired door is lowered. We take our positions- my gun in one hand and my cross in the other. The first bullet from the enemy on the beaches is fired, and it's not the last. One by one the men fall like dominos. A wall of sea water crashes over the side as I crouch in protection. The remaining men are doing the same- crouching for our lives- seeking some sort of comfort from the ships side, all hoping we'll survive this long, dreadful day. I'm not one to be known for being weak or a coward. But right now, all I can feel is the fear for myself, and I know this is so very selfish. But taking a look at these lifeless men at my feet makes me think differnetly. These men, no sorry boys mostly, they all have families waiting at home, but there time is gone. I still have a chance. It may be a small one, but it's still a chance.

The order is given from the captain to abandon ship, and like good soldiers we do as he says. One after the other the lost souls hurl themselves overboard and I catch eyes with a young lad as he dissapears into the unkown. And in that one moment, I feel his fear. I steady my heartbeat and prepare to to enter the depths of the ocean. I'll need to move quickly now, for this watercraft is sinking, and it's sinking fast. One, two, three. And i'm in. Suddenly the needles of cold spread over every inch of my body and I struggle to come up for air, as i'm being weighed down. My brain kicks in and I begin to free myself from my weapon-filled backpack in a race to stay alive. The burning senstation spreads through and progresses to fill my lungs, and i'm trying, oh God i'm trying so damn hard to free myself with trembling, desperate hands. The strap loosens and I break free, scrambling to the surface. I'm free, but my cross is still clutched in right my right hand, and it will be to the very end. Air enters my begging lungs. It's a good feeling to get something back that you've been so wrongly starved of for such a long time. Well there beneath that salted water, felt like a lifeime.

Shots are being fired left, right and center and I can almost taste the victims' blood. It doesn't exactley give me the upperhand being right within fireing range. It's not so safe being here in the decieving sea. I have no protection or backup, so I need to get to the shore thick and fast. The enemy can easily view me from hear, with them ashore and me out here. It's too late. I've been spotted. My body goes in to panick mode and my limbs splash around in a desperate fleet to reach the desired destination. I take a second to look over in the distance towards the strong, bold machine guns; I wonder, which one will have the pleasure of taking my life? All around soldiers are dying. My soldiers. I swim on and focus on my goal. Then without warning, a bullet enters the left side of my skull. And I was sure, just for one moment, that I saw the image of my sons face fading from view.

    

Author's Note

Please do comment with constructive critisism, keep in mind that I am 14 years of age.