WW2

Chapter 3: Exodus

The waves crashed against the ship, and the overfilled passengers looked up anxiously at the sky. Inside the boat, it was more cramped. Men, many of which were soaking wet, cramped up as tea and toast were served by women. "Stuffy would serve as a compliment," John chuckled as he engulfed his toast.

The 3 constantly collided with men also walking past. Oliver looked at the entrance being closed, and shivers went down his spine. The afternoon merged into the evening, and the cold crept under the itchy skins, sand and salt clinging onto the men.

"The exit door is that way," Oliver pointed out.

"And I am trying to find a place slightly less cramped that's also warmer," John responded as he picked up another slice.

"Weren't you the one worried about U-Boats?"

"Weren't you the one worried about Stukas?"

"Sorry if I don't want to end up drowning."

"Sorry if I don't want to freeze to death."

"People," Jules interrupted.

The discomfort, both mentally and physically, had strained their thoughts. Like all the other ships, they needed safety, food, water, and sleep. They huddled together in the dire time, leaning against a wall for some support for their legs.

There was light chatter; John honed onto one conversation, though. A lady was comforting a couple of soldiers who looked no older than 18—young boys who shouldn't have to endure this.

"...the coast is just an hour or so away, your safe now..." she lied, not just to the boy, but to her self too.

Some spirits were being lifted as the beach's horrors faded into darkness. The prospect of returning home caused some laughter here and there. The fall of France was secondary to people's minds, it was as if they were at the pub on a rainy night.

A shadowy shape appeared in the water, lurking under the waves - a German U-boat had slipped silently into their midst. Panic erupted as the hull splintered and broke apart. Men collapsed into the freezing depths; screaming and silent alike. Chaos ensued. The survivors saw the boats lights flicker out, as the metal frame threatened to collapse.

Water flooded in causing everyone to run for the exit, a stampede. The evening darkness did not help either, nor did the ice forming in their veins. Mere seconds past, and the water level was already half way. People pushed and shoved as they cried out to God, desperately searching for a way to escape the sinking vessel. The exit was submerged in dark maze of debris. The sound of the ship's groaning metal was deafening, and the air filled with the smell of salt and a glimmer of oil.

John swam to where he thought was the exit, frantically patting the walls to find the door. Juels and Oliver were doing the same. Muscles cramped up, and oxygen ran low. As the dark cold embrace of death was taking hold, light appeared from the heavens.

Someone found and opened the door. Like a school of fish; everyone swam towards it. The bottleneck of bodies cut into the skin, burned by the salt. Yet, their struggles did not end there. Under the moonlight, the vast sea seemed void of anything. As if they were in purgatory.

 Amidst the freezing ocean, John's body was barely holding on. The cold waters lapped at him relentlessly, and he tried to gather his energy to move his limbs. His clothes were soaking wet, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. He looked around him, all he could see were waves, ocean, and people as far as the eye could see. Then the smell sank in... oil.

Viscous liquid spilled into the sea. A slick, oily sheet on the surface spread fast around the sinking wreckage, who's tombstone began to burn ablaze. John scrambled to escape the inferno, the oil was caught and lit. It engulfed everything within its path. Not caring for the screams of the men as their faces melted off. Their lungs choking on black smog. Bones exposed to the harsh hellfire, and feet sunk deep into the antarctic like waters.