Brave the Waters

3- The Bunkers

A/N

Hey guys! I finally did it! I stopped procrastinating and actually wrote this chapter. I hope you guys like it! I really liked the ideas that I've been pouring into this story. Now that I've spent 2 hours working on and revising this chapter. I'm going to take a needed break to fold five million origami cranes. Just kidding. Probably around 10. And then I'll start working on my story some more. 

Can't wait to hear what you guys think about it! 

June 6, 1944: Normandy 

~Y/N Pierson~

I had thought the beaches would've been the hardest part. MG's razing the ground below, grenades whistling through the air, mist clouding a soldier's vision. But down here, it was the same as above; however, there were many more ways that a man could hide down here. Smoke billowed from charred bodies, concealing smaller compartments carved into the ground and pathways leading to other trenches. Even if I had trained for years, I still wouldn't be prepared.

As I fired my M1 Garand off into the haze, I couldn't help but think... Why had I signed up for this? I knew since Kasserine that I had wanted to redeem my father, but how stupid was I? I knew how bloody war was. I knew that there were going to be things that I didn't want to see. I just didn't know that it would be this... heart breaking. I saw men dying or dead on the ground. Some couldn't have been older than 18. 

I shook my head. There wasn't time for thinking. At least, about that. I got another shot on a Kraut, and heard Turner shouting in the background. "Krauts are dug in, Daniels, get a grenade in that bunker." 

Daniels rushed forward, grabbing one of the grenades hooked to his belt. I rushed behind him, firing off into the space in front of the bunker to provide cover for him as he yanked the pin and threw the grenade. 

"Grenade out!" He shouted.

Moments later it exploded, sending debris and what I assume was human fragments through the air. Despite my calm demeanor, it felt like my heart was pounding my chest with a sledgehammer.  We cleared bunker after bunker, mowing down soldiers left and right until we were finally close to the last bunker.  

"Stiles! Aiello! With me. Daniels, you, Zussman and Pierson clear the last bunker. Rally at the top of the bluff , and for fuck's sake don't get yourself killed!" My father shouted as we all stacked up around the exit of the fourth bunker. "Daniels! Get the door!"

"Yes sergeant!" He yelled back in his southern drawl.

The three of us exited, marching out not even 100 feet in front of the last bunker. Shots were being fired from all different directions, making it impossible to go forward till we had shot some soldiers down. When we were focused, the three of us worked really well together. 3 by 3, the Krauts began falling down, souls leaving to meet their maker. 

I watched as Daniels headed into the last bunker, but something seemed off. "Daniels-"

Before I could warn him, a soldier rushed him, struggling for control of his rifle. Thankfully, as Zussman and I finally got into the room, he had managed to push the man off of him. Zussman planted his knee on the man's chest, letting punches fly. Then a small flash caught my eyes. "Zussman!"

The Kraut had grabbed a knife from his trousers, plunging it into Zussman's abdomen and then rushed to finish off Daniels. I wanted to help him, but I couldn't; I had to stop Zussman from bleeding out. Grabbing a bandage from a small standard issued kit, I pressed it into his wound. Almost immediately, the white cloth was soaked bright red.  Daniels was rushing over to us, having used his own helmet to bash the man's skull in.