A Fight for Survival

This is only the beginning

June 6th, 1944 - Normandy, France 

David looked out the window, watching as gliders all around them were being shot down. Alex, Lip, Drew, and some other Easy Company members he couldn't seem to remember were with him in the glider. Their jumpmaster gave them the okay. The sound of equipment checks, and then they jumped out. As David approached the doorway, he said a silent prayer, "Lord, give me the strength, so I can give you the glory." He leaped out.

As he landed, he discarded his parachute and slowly made his way to the woodline. Along the way, he found Lip, Alex, and a few 82nd Airborne troopers. As they made their way toward the river, Lip stopped them, listening. Click. Click. Alex clicked three times back as Lip called out as he crossed the water to the other side, "Is that you, Lieutenant Winters?" The small group ran across the small creek. Dick whispered for them to sit. "Okay, any weapons?" "No, sir," Lip answered. "As soon as I hit that prop blast, so long, leg bag. All I got is a knife and TNT. LB and Alex have their M-1s, along with the 82nd boys here, though." Dick nodded, looking around. "Good. I need a compass." David interjected, "I don't, but Alex probably does, being the intelligence." The group looked around. "Alright, but where is she?" "She's right here." Molly popped up next to Dick with Alex, seemingly out of the dark.

Drew remarked, "You Hunters scare the shit outta me when you do that." Alex smirked, "Well, someone has to look around for landmarks. Sir, I saw a sign back there that said, 'Sainte-Mère-Église'." She pulled out a compass and handed it to Dick, who took it. "Thanks. Raincoat?" An 82nd soldier handed him a coat. Then the 82nd soldier glanced over at Alex and Molly. "Holy shit, you two are Hunters. I've read all about you in the Army magazines." Dick popped out and looked at Alex, who went under the coat to take a better look at the map with his flashlight. "We're about seven kilometers away from our objective. And four hours away from when we need to have it secured." Molly nodded, keeping her voice low. "Looks like we have a bit of walking to do, boys."

"Hey, Sarge, where are we going?" one of the 82nd boys asked Lip. Alexis, trailing behind Dick and Molly, couldn't help but smile. Leave it to those two to be figuring out a plan, even now. "Causeway Number Two, Utah Beach," Lip replied, his voice tight. "The Germans flooded the fields inland. We don't clear those routes, our boys ain't going nowhere." "Ten of us ain't gonna secure a road," the other 82nd trooper muttered. "That Louie don't even have a weapon," another voice chimed in, a hint of nervousness in it. Alexis, sticking close to Lip like he was her lifeline, kept her mouth shut. She didn't know these men, not really, but the relief at finding some friendly faces was immense.

They were nearing a railroad track when Dick and Molly both threw up their hands, stopping the group short. Footsteps, metallic and rhythmic, echoed from around the bend. "I don't remember hearing about any railroads near our objective," a voice drifted from the trees ahead—Malarkey. "I'm telling ya, this is the spur line that runs parallel to the river," another voice, Joe Toye's, insisted. "We should be coming up to a road and bridge ahead." "Yeah? How would you know?" Malarkey scoffed. "Because I studied the sand tables, alright?" Toye shot back. The bickering stopped abruptly. Alexis caught Dick's eye, and he nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. "Flash!" Dick called out, his voice low but carrying. "Thunder!" came the immediate response from the trees. Six figures emerged, their faces a mixture of relief and disbelief. "Lieutenant, is that you?" Malarkey breathed, his eyes wide. "Malarkey?" Dick returned, stepping forward. "Ginger!" Malarkey exclaimed, spotting Molly and pulling her into a hug, relief radiating off of him. "I thought that was you, cuz." 

"Hey, Alex, that you?" Bill Guarnere's voice was quieter than usual, strained. Alexis offered him a small smile, her heart aching for him. She'd heard about his brother. She watched as Molly, ever efficient, gave Guarnere and Hall quick instructions, positioning them at the front of the group. Guarnere, his face pale and drawn, moved with a tightly controlled anger that set Alexis on edge. They formed a loose circle around Dick, a silent acknowledgment that he, unarmed as he was, was their best hope in this chaotic mess. Alexis felt a surge of pride, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. They were still separated, scattered, but at least they had found each other. For now, that was enough.

Molly moved with the practiced stealth of a hunter, each step a silent calculation of risk and reward. The men followed her lead, their faces grim under the dawning sky. When Hall, the young scout, froze and crouched low, she knew they were nearing their target. A horse's whinny, sharp and close, sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. Dick pushed past her, his eyes scanning the terrain ahead. He disappeared for a moment, then hurried back, calling for Lip and Guarnere. "Guarnere," Dick's voice was tight with tension as he directed the men into position. They found a concealed spot overlooking the road, the rest of the men fanning out around them. Alexis, her face drawn, exchanged a silent nod with Lip. They were ready.

The wait was agonizing. Every rustle of leaves, every chirp of a bird, sounded deafening in the stillness. Then, the faint drumming of hooves, growing steadily louder. German voices, harsh and guttural, drifted through the trees. Molly's hand tightened on her rifle, her finger hovering near the trigger. Dick held up a hand, his eyes fixed on the approaching wagon. He caught Molly's eye and motioned for her to get down, to be ready. She settled into the cold earth, her sniper rifle a reassuring weight against her shoulder. Through the scope, she watched the horses' heads bobbing, the black bulk of the wagon drawing closer. Then, all hell broke loose. A burst of gunfire erupted from their left flank, followed by a chorus of shouts and screams. Horses reared, their panicked whinnies piercing the air. Germans tumbled from the wagon, cut down in a hail of bullets. Molly hesitated, her finger tightening on the trigger, but the chaos was too great, the targets too confused. This wasn't the clean, calculated shot she was used to.

"That's enough, Guarnere!" Dick's voice, raw with fury, cut through the din. He shoved Guarnere back from the road, his face a mask of rage. Molly holstered her rifle and approached cautiously, her eyes scanning the scene. German bodies lay sprawled in the mud, the stench of gunpowder and blood heavy in the air. "Everyone okay?" Dick's voice was tight as he held Guarnere's gaze. The big man looked away, his face pale. A lone horse whinnied mournfully in the distance. "Next time I say wait for my command, you wait for my command, Sergeant," Dick's voice was low and dangerous. "Yes, sir," Guarnere mumbled, his defiance gone. A single shot rang out, sharp and final. Molly spun around, her heart in her throat. Toye stood over a fallen German, his Luger smoking in his hand. His face was a mask of cold fury, his eyes devoid of remorse.

"Dick, don't be so hard on him," Molly murmured, placing a hand on Dick's arm. "He just lost his brother in Italy." Dick closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping with the weight of it all. "I know," he sighed, his voice heavy with fatigue. "I just want him to be careful. I don't want either of us to be writing another letter to their family about their son."