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Language Arts: Historical Fiction Short Story
Bulge Forest, Belgium Feb 14 1943,0600
It's so cold. Men should never have to fight in weather like this. Men’s boots and legs are freezing to the trenches. My unit and I wait for a German counter attack that seems to never come. Come to think of it, the men want the Germans to come and kill them so they don’t have to endure this cold.
The German general’s name is Lt. General Klink. NO one knows exactly why he’s not attacking our 30 man platoon with his 10 tiger tanks and 100 men!! Some say he’s not a good commander others say he’s waiting for us to crack in this weather. You see, us Americans didn’t get any winter gear due to shortages.
The Germans, on the other hand, have full winter gear and have enough food to last them another 5 mouths. “Any one got any cigs?” a young private asked.
Before we have time to answer shells start raining down are on position. Boom!!! “Cover!” our CO yells. Almost imminently, German tanks and men emerge from the trees. Bullets fly and explosions break my ears. There are many people shouting. The screams of pain from the dead and wounded that hunt me to this day.
After 10 minutes of dodging bullets I finally build up enough courage to stand up and shoot my M1 rifle. I got off 3 shots. I look to see if I had hit anything. What I saw was a bleeding German falling dead. I sit back down and think about what I just did. I shot and killed a Man……I will never forgive myself. It is war though, I think to myself. I’m going to have to do it again. Once again, I build up enough courage to peak out of the trench. I start firing like mad in all directions not caring if I hit anything just to shoot. I repeat this process at least four times until finally the tanks are so close I can smell the gasoline burning in the 1 ton engine. Everyone who is left in my unit scramble to find some sort of cover or anti-Tank weapon. A tall shot haired man screams that he has found one. All of us run over to help him with a huge bazooka. We aim and fire it. “BOOOOOOM”!!!! The shoot throws us all backwards flying into the air. Then we all hear a much needed sound, an explosion of a tiger tank. The men cheer as the tank burns furiously. We soon realize that there are still 9 of those things out there and they are really angry now. “Retreat=http://” A sergeant yells out. Boy we thanked the lord for that order, anything to get out of here. With sweat and blood all over me I run toward are retreatment point. Panting like mad, I still don’t know how I made it there, being so tired.
“Trucks”!!! Someone yells. No one says anything but were glad to see them. Men start boarding the trucks as fast as I’ve ever seen before. “Go, go, go”, we all say in unison. The truck drivers floor the accelerators and speed down the bumpy gravel road. Then just when we thought it was over one of the nearest tigers got one shot off before we were out of range. The round hit the last truck in the convoy. A fire ball engulfs the truck; every one in it dies immediately. It seems like the whole world fell silent. My mind flashed back to my home, on the lake in Main, so quiet and peaceful. We drive away with a bad feeling in my gut. This made me think, why are we fighting? What’s all this bloodshed for? I fall asleep the rest of the ride back to HQ like the other men, dreaming of a peaceful end.
Article posted May 9, 2010 at 08:53 AM •
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