Day of Days

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A story of a fight against impeccable odds.
When Frank's transport aircraft crash lands on the morning of June 6th 1944, him and two other survivors fight against the Nazi war machine single handedly.

1941 was probably the most traumatic year of my life. It’s the same year my parents died; I turned 18, the year I dropped out of collage, and the same year Pearl Harbor was attacked. I joined the military in 1942, but was not sent out to fight till June 6th 1944. Prior to that date me, my friend, and the rest of easy company trained for that date, or as it was called, D-day which means day of days, a military parlance used to denote the day on which a combat attack or operation is to be initiated.

Despite the name easy, it is not that at all, we have to run for a long distance, and yes we do have water with us, but we can’t drink it. On that run, someone did drink some and was made to do the whole thing over again, by himself.

When it was June 5th, we got every thing ready and went over everything one more time. When we were finally over Normandy on June 6th 1941 I was told to get ready to jump. (Yes I did say jump, I was about to jump from a plane that was getting shot at, release my parachute, and hopefully land safely on the ground.) When the green light went on, we jumped, or at least I did, the moment I left the plane got hit by an anti aircraft shell and exploded. I watched in horror as the plane plummeted to the ground. Because of this, my parachute didn’t come all the way out, and I hit the ground, hard.

I guess I hit the ground a little too hard, because the moment I tried to stand up pain shot up through my leg. So I slowly limped towards the burning wreck of my plane. When I got there I could not believe it, there were three survivors. The plane had apparently crashed close to a river, so the passengers where able to make there way slowly to the river to save them.

After the fire died down, the three survivors took shelter in the plane while I searched for things that could be salvaged, such as, food, ammo, and guns. After finding what I could I limped out side, but it was not long till one of the survivors yelled out to me, “What’s wrong with your leg, looks pretty bad the way you’re limping on it.”



I then told him the way I landed and let him inspect it. “Looks like you tore a couple muscles, sprained pretty good and might have cracked the bone.” He proclaimed after a thorough examination, “I think you should rest on it for two days, unless you need to walk.” I replied “ok” and quickly fell to sleep to the gunshots and explosions outside.

When I woke up my leg still hurt, but I could walk on it, the three survivors where still sleeping. So I looked at their burns, they weren’t to bad, just some second and first degree burns, except on one, he had some massive third degree burns, I then realized it was the man who had examined my leg. I went to get some water in my helmet for the man’s burns. When I came back, I noticed he wasn’t breathing.

After I buried him I was attacked by a small platoon of Germans. I ran for cover in the airplane and started shooting at the Germans. It wasn’t long till the other two survivors woke up, and after realizing I wasn’t practice shooting they picked up their guns and started shooting at the Germans themselves.

About five minuets into the battle it seemed as if the Germans were about to retreat, but that’s when the survivor next to me screamed “I’m hit!” then he fell over and died, shot right through the heart.

That’s when the Germans knew they could take us on. And it was not long till the man on the other side of me cried out as if in great pain then slumped over. At that moment it was me against a thousand. I then let them have it. I saw more and more men fall in front of me. But they just kept coming, that’s when I felt it, a great pain in the top of my right leg. I looked down though I knew where it had hit me, right in an artery; I only had minutes to live, so I started to bring down more and more Germans until I was too weak to hold the gun then I prayed. It was then I heard the exited shouts of the Germans, they where shouting the only word that I knew in German, “tank” I looked up half expecting to see a huge panzer pointing its huge barrel at me, instead I saw the Germans fleeing into the thick underbrush. Then I heard a few American shouts, I shouted “in here!” the best I could, that’s when I started to get dizzy so I shouted “get a medic!” in a few seconds there was one, then knowing I had a few breaths left I uttered these last words “thank you.”

Submitted: December 04, 2014

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Add Your Comments:


Ben A Vanguarde

Vividly written. Great storytelling.

Fri, December 5th, 2014 8:53pm


Thank you! Glad you liked it Ben!

Fri, December 5th, 2014 1:05pm


Best story by far!

Fri, January 16th, 2015 3:23am

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