"Troops, brace yourself!" Captain - shouted. He was stood at the front of the boat as we approached the sure. The salt whipped at the side of the boat clawing at our faces. Our khaki clothes would more than likely become the seaweed sooner or later. Private Roy Hidberson was in front of me, he was shaking. He bent over emptying his stomach. Putrid colours seeped beneath my boots, but they soon would be washed away. We all held our guns close to our chest. They were our safety and our life resource. The sound of the bullets mixed with the scream was not a pleasant one, yet it was getting closer by the second.
"Troops, meet Captain Leers' troops up at the safety point and then proceed to clear the bunker!" he screamed these commands as the boat ran against the sand of the beach. The plate lowered slowly. It was as if we were on stage and the curtain was going up, and we were about to perform for our toughest audience yet.
"Go troops now" Captain - yelled as the gate finally lowered. We saw Armageddon before our eyes. The corpses of many were strewed across the beach in a unholy manner. A man was missing his lower body and clawing at the beach trying to crawl for safety. The coast had run red and the darkness was truly upon us. This was the final onslaught. A large deafening band went off followed by rapid gunfire. We were sitting ducks and the Germans knew it. The noise phased in to white noise. I turned to see Captain - waving his arms and mouthing orders. Shell shock. I stepped forward trying to dodge the bullets scared for our lives. What were we truly fighting for I kept thinking to myself. We were all just pawns in the game. Well we were told to protect the king. That was our job. The sand fell away beneath my boot. It was soft from the water. The sea was still beating, urging us to go forward. The bullets were soaring through the sky like swallows caught in a spring breeze.I started to run forward, half our of patrism and half out of fear. But I had to run regardless, standing still was going to help nobody.
Two minutes of running across the beach and I was hit. Pain soared through my body from the hole now in my chest. Within moments I was on the floor. The pain was unbearable. The hot metal had burrowed it's way into me, I couldn't move from the pain. I screamed as loud as I could, but it only got washed away in the wind. This was my end and the only thing I could think about was my mother. How I wanted her to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay one last time, and at the moment I was five years old again. I had fell off my bike and badly cut my left leg. It hurt a lot and I thought it was the most painful thing ever. I pushed my bike home and left it in the front garden. I went inside the house and climbed up on the high seats and cried, blood still trickling down my leg. The room was warm, it was spring. The smell of lavender in the garden was lift up through the open window and carried through to my nostrils. My mother walked in through the arched doorway and just looked at me. She had hazel hair and it hung effortlessly by her face. She had a yellow summer dress on, it looked so soft. She walked over and sat next to me and placed my head in her lap. She stroked my hair with her long slender fingers.
"It will be all right my darling." She had a soft Irish accent. My tears fell on to her dress and hid in the folds hiding until they were needed again.
"I won't let anyone hurt you, you understand. When I'm around you're as safe as you can be. Jesus himself could not hurt you if I was there." She soothed whilst slowly stroking my hair. Her fingers getting caught in knots. Her warmth and faith surrounded me coddling me til my tears were dry.
"I will love you forever my darling, and I promise this will be okay" She finished. I looked up to see her looking down at me smiling. Her deep brown eyes capturing my sadness and tossing it away.
"Now how about we see to that cut." She stood up and held out her hand. Her smile beaming and warm. I greached out and took her hand and she walked me to the kitchen. I had a slight limp. She sat me on the kitchen side as she fussed about the medicine box. She wiped away the blood and covered it. She placed a kiss on the wound.
"All better now." She asked sweetly. I nodded and smiled. She smiled back. The moment then froze in my mind. The smell of lavender slowly died away. The kitchen slowly dimmed. My mother who once stood before me blew away like sand in the wind. Her warmth started to die away followed by her faith and the pain came back. This time though it wasn't the pain of a five year old who had cut his leg. It was of a soldier, dying on a beach in the middle of nowhere. Wanting his mother to help him but knowing that his life was fading away and he was completely lost forever.
