World War II: Escaping the Storm

Town Struggle

I walk down the streets of the town surrounding Dunkirk with my squad, Charlie, Alexander, Henry, Daniel, Adam, and Joseph.
None of us really had a high rank, we all carried basic rifles, standard grenades and a small amount of ammo.
I walk inside an old shop. It's abandoned, I see if the bread left behind is any good, but their just filled with mold and are as hard as stones. I check the back kitchen and check the sink. The faucet barely works. I'll take what I can get. I take my small metal canine and fill it up.
When I go outside to find my squad, I realize that it suddenly started raining single sheets of paper. I pick one up and look at what it has to say. The picture on the sheet shows a close up map of Dunkirk. It told us where we were by showing a big circle that said "YOU ARE HERE" in it. The map then showed the arrows pointing towards us, representing the Germans. On the top, it said, "WE SURROUND YOU".
I make my way back to my squad. Joseph looks at me and says, "We're going back to beach." I nod and start walking along the beaten up road with the rest of my squad.
Cracks of fire suddenly come out of nowhere, making Henry fall backward.
We all start to run without yelling anything.
The thunder continues to strike us. Joseph falls next to me.
We reach a brick wall and scale the wooden door in two motions, crashing our bodies on the other side.
Bullets crash through the wood, spraying splinters.
We continue to rush towards the beach. We turn the corner of a house and find our selves in the middle of a fire fight between a French defense and a wave of Germans.
I find ourselves fortunate for being close the French side. Gunfire erupts close to us.
I put up my hands and yell, "English! English!"
The fire from the French stops coming at us and we rush to their cover.
The French troopers have set up a thick wall of sandbags, being held in place by wooden planks.
One of them speaks in shaky English, "Fire back! Fire back!"
The French machine gun crackles, rifles pop from every which way down the road with buildings on both sides.
Andrew pops out from cover and fires three shots before coming back down.
I look above the sandbag wall and see German troops in gray uniforms rushing behind wagons, crates, and whatever else they could get behind as cover.
I raise the muzzle of my rifle to one running down the side of the road.
Pak!
The soldier falls to ground forwards. More German bodies littered the road in front of us, but they would not stop coming. No matter how many we shot down, more would come.
Eventually, the street was scattered in advancing German troops.
One of the French troops calls out, "Se retirer! Se retirer!"
I looked to the guy that spoke to us earlier, "What's he saying?!"
"He's saying fall back! Fall back!" he said before quickly following the others further down the street.
"We have to make it to the beach!" yells Andrew.
"Follow me!" I yell back.
The squad takes no second thoughts.
We rush through small alleys filled with trash cans and litter. We scale a shed, and jump off the other side behind a brick wall.
Our feet land in sand, and right before our eyes, is hundreds of thousands of soldiers in long lines leading to the ocean.