Wings of Honor: Tales of Pyrrhia

Chapter 1: The Opening

It was hard to believe the war was over.

I was fighting my way out of the base of the Flakturm, dozens of SS protecting one of the few hard points before Berlin, when suddenly, the ground shook with a resounding vengeance. The Earth seemed to finally be done with Nazi tyranny.
It swallowed the entire structure. I saw explosions in the base, before the tower and everything in it lowered into the depths of hell. Then the smoke and fire rose to greet me. I could do little but shield my eyes and duck for cover.
Once the dust settled, both literally and figuratively, I stumbled around to find a lone soldier, holding a hellbox.
"Thunder!" I shouted
He swung around, his M1 still at the ready. I nearly shot him, before he yelled, "Flash."
I let out a big sigh.
"At ease airborne."
I walked up to him, slamming him on the shoulder with an oof.
"Come on, let's regroup at Charlie." I motioned with my head to follow.
He looked at my silver bar, nodded, then joined me headed back down the street.
The weapon I carried felt heavy in my hands, covered in dust and blood; but then again, what here wasn't? I held with me a real prize, the finest weapon the world had ever seen. A prototype version of a new class of weapon, the letters I had translated to MKB-42. A matching ZF-4 4x marksman's scope, I kept in my back pouch, in case I needed to range out. Half my ammo was depleted, but several of the downed soldiers had ammo I could use. What little I scrounged up, I stuffed in my pack.
I know, I'm a heartless son-of-a-bitch, but war doesn't care if you're Jesus or Judas. You lose your legs, based mostly on luck. Thankfully, me and my friend here were pretty lucky.
"Say, I never got your name, man." I looked over at the two chevron'd soldier.
"Corporal Travers." He responded.
"Well Travers, did you blow up that tower?"
He said nothing, so I looked at him. He realized he had zoned out, nodding almost imperceptibly.
"Damn. You should get a Medal of Honor for that." I patted him on the back again.
We continued walking down the shattered street, weary of the sounds of combat still echoing around us. The war was about over, but not for us. Not for any of us. We made our way to one of the green flares, symbols of safety and supplies.
"Thunder!" I called loudly, hoping they wouldn't think I was a kraut. Considering that I held a German weapon, but everything about me screamed American.
"Flash!" A voice yelled back, and we stepped into a small, partly shattered building. The radio and American flag signified this place as a Forward Operating Base, FOB for short.
"Who's the senior officer here?" I asked another grizzled soul. He pointed weakly at a man dressed for combat. I would've thought he was a Private if it weren't for the connected silver bars on his shoulders and helmet. I gave him a nod.
"Lieutenant Marvin Jerez. 101st airborne."
"Sit down." The strangely calm voice said.
I did, leaning my rifle on the rickety wooden chair that groaned under me. Travers kept standing by the door, his head still on a swivel for enemies.
"Judging by what you look like Lieutenant, if you and he were where I think you were, you might just be the luckiest men in the whole army."
I chuckled.
"I aim to please sir."
The captain stuck out his hand
"Townsend."
"Yes sir, Captain Townsend."
I took his handshake. He got up with a groan, arching his back and put his hands on his hips.
"How many people are you Marvin?"
"Two sir. I lost my squad when our bird was shot down."
"Are you the only survivor?"
"From what I know sir. A couple others made it out, but we were too badly scattered."
"I see. How combat effective are you?"
"I could use a nice cup of tea right about now."
He chuckled, and the man beside him smiled.
"What do you think Dick? You think we should send them to the rear?"
The First Sergeant said with a smile. "He's lucky enough to get through us. I think they deserve to get a day's rest."
The Officer nodded, turning back towards me. He grabbed a pen, writing out his order onto a small sheet of yellow paper.
"Regroup and rearm lieutenant."
I gave him another nod. Saluting here was dangerous here, and they knew that.
"Thank you, Captain."
I grabbed Travers, walking him back outside. Turning to him, "You're one lucky SOB, you know that right?"
He laughed, I patted him again.
"E're I got a cigarette for you, I don't smoke." Producing a slightly crumpled, long, white, stuffed tube of tobacco for my friend here. Grabbing my black painted lighter, flicking it open, and sparking the striker. I touched the end with the flickering tongue of flame, letting it lick at the end of the cigarette until it glowed. We were safe, at least for now.
We continued marching back, back behind allied lines. A small thought weighed in my mind.
By this time tomorrow, we'd be dropping in Berlin.