WW2

Chapter 10: Battle Of Saumur

Lighting flashed before his eyes, his name echoing in a hollow voice throughout the graveyard. John John, it shrieked as arms began escaping from the graves. Bone, blood, and bodies rose up in the air, hung by an invisible force staring down at him. He looked up, and back down. He was in the fields of France, on a retreat to the coast. Blood-red faces looked down upon him, demons of the sky as his position was ambushed with a flurry of explosions, planes, troops, tanks, horses... his friend laid their lifeless and unrecognisable before he started to float. Before he began to be consumed by the Demons above... he awoke from his horrid dreams to the terrifying reality of war. The tires screeched against the ground.

Juels rushed the sleepy soldiers on their feet and out of the plane, "The Germans have air superiority Ruth; the French are low on planes. Make yours count."

Ruth saluted him before he rushed off to his own plane. The others ran to a truck which awaited them. The men entered the vehicle as Juels spoke with the French commanding officer. It was brief, like the journey to the defensive line.

Oliver and John began their search for Luca, whilst Juels was asked to help move the truck into a defensible position. Barbed wire and machine guns were set up, and kill zones were refined. Oliver and John went to the temporary head quarters.

It was dense, packed, and messy. Men hurried back and forth, papers collapsed on the floor, lights shuttered on and off in the quakes of artillery. Oliver approached a woman and asked about the whereabouts of Luca. She directed him to the island at the centre of the river before rushing to her pilling duties.

They soon met up with Juels at the island in the centre of Loire river. Shells were relentlessly pummelling the defensive line, and the Luftwaffe began the first wave of bombardments just a kilometre from their location.

Oliver reminded, "Those shells are-"

"Softening us for a attack."

"An," John corrected.

They wandered the decimated houses, the wrecked lines of defence, the rows of corpses. It was adamant that France had been lost, despite the daunting reality, every foot of French soil would have to be fought for. None of the men wanted to return to France just yet, John's stomach turned inside out as he desperately searched for Luca. He silently cursed at the man as Oliver asked some of the French officers for his location.

"Merde!" A soldier shouted as he pointed to opposing end of the river.

The 1st Cavalry Division was advancing armed to the teeth with rockets, tanks, and a windfall of machine guns. Bullets flung across the water and began eating the concrete walls that were loosely fitted together.

The 3 men ran for cover behind some sandbags. An old 25mm machine gun began firing back on the onslaught of advancing Germans. The bullets bouncing off the armour and temporarily holding down the infantry.

"We have to hold them off!" Juels shouted, "Return fire!" He peeked the sandbags and aimed it at a soldier, he fired a round, the bullet ripped a hole through his chest. The man collapsed in agony, his lungs filling with blood. Juels aimed his rifle to a German officer brandishing and unleashing the MP-38 behind a Panther. Juels fired another shot, it ricocheted off the metal splitting apart and sending fragments to this face. It silenced the submachine gun, but the officer lived on.

A tank shell shrieked past the air, sending shivers down to the very bone. It demolished the remnants of a house. Men screamed the building came crashing down. As the dust cleared, hope came through the rubble. A heavy tank, the Char B1, rolled down the road and turned its turret to the Panther. The enemy fired another shot, this time, it was aimed at the French tank. The shell bounced off the front armour leaving a deep dent.