Happy reading!
**
Somewhere over Normandy
What sounded like a pair of BAR's mixed in with the M1's, has what had commenced engagement with the Kraut's below Jack.
The powerful caliber that these paratroopers were packing lit the German patrol up, including the barn itself.
Bullets were piercing the thinly wooded walls, sending splinters of wood flying inward as the bullet impacted the wall.
Jack held his breath as he watched the Wehrmacht troops take cover in the barn, tripping over each other as they ran about in search for cover.
The Germans below him were scattered throughout the barn, taking cover behind whatever they could find. And it seemed to be doing the trick since a lot of the wood is taking more damage than the enemy themselves.
"Fusillo, take a squad up and secure that barn! Thatch, Vito, take your boys and secure a perimeter around that barn! This isn't the dz, something went wrong... Get that barn secured and keep that 360 perimeters tight, this will be the newly designated rally point once it's cleared." The authoritative voice commands and the sounds of several footsteps could be heard in their haste to move up and secure the inside.
Upon closer inspection, they looked less equipped compared to the standard soldier, and maybe Polish too.
There were only 5, maybe 6 of them in this patrol and they didn't really wish to fight either by what Jack could tell.
"Diese ist deine nur Wahl, kommen Sie heraus und aufgeben oder sterbt!" Someone called out from outside of the barn, and the Ost troops below looked at each other. They mulled over the idea of getting to live and see day break again.
"Nicht schießen mir bitte, ich komme heraus!" One of the soldiers replied before he dropped his weapon and came out with his hands held up, he was shaken up but did his best to hide his fear.
"Sprechen Sie English?" The man asked the Ost soldier as the rest of his squad mates slowly came out of the barn too, giving themselves up.
"Nein, er sprecht Englisch..." The soldier said, pointing towards the youngest man in the group.
The young man looked no more than 18, maybe 17 years old, and he wasn't very pleased to be put on the spot like that from the other man.
The American who was asking the questions looked at the younger boy and shook his head a little bit, they're always so young when they join to fight in the wars.
"Is that true, you speak English?"
"Y-yes sir, I do..."
"I have a quick question for you, why the hell are you all so ill equipped?" The First Sergeant asked the boy.
"We're Osttruppen in the Ostlegionen... The, uh, eastern legions... We're part of the individual Polish eastern troops you could say. We are in charge of defending the coast here, conscripted or forced to fight, some of us are volunteers as well... But we're just cannon fodder more or less..." The young boy said watching as the Americans move past them to clear out the barn.
The conversation continued on as the First Sergeant tried getting any information out of him and his buddies.
Jack was relieved when he saw friendly uniforms enter the barn, and didn't hesitate to call out for help "Hey, hey! Up here, someone get me down, I'm caught up in the cords!"
As a majority of the squad secured the barn, they looked up and noticed that Jack was truly ensnared in his parachute lines.
"Hang tight sir, we'll get you down from there!" One of the corporals had said while everyone else began piling hay up underneath Jack to cushion his possible fall.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Eagles
Ficción histórica"You're about to embark on a great crusade..." General Dwight D. Eisenhower had said in his speech to the troops prior to the opening assault on Normandy's shores. However, Jack and James O'Brian never heard that speech, because they were in the air...
