{.Endless Waltz.}

**I am going to set up a Discussion Thread now. And Jok, I do not appreciate you starting it off because we were going to start off differently, but oh well. It has started already and I am not willing to let down the other people. I would also like to remind you to try to use proper grammar and capitalization.

I will post later.

EDIT: The Discussion Thread is Here. Make sure you keep track of it for there may be plot lines added and we don't want you to miss out.

**Jok, if you wanted to start off this so quickly, you should have made your own. Icognito was very kind by saying that it was alright and not deleting your posts but the fact that you used such atrocious grammer is something I myself am fairly angry about. I dont want to come off as being cruel, but you should realise I am coming off as being Incognito's inforcer for she wont do so herself. Dont cause any more damage, kay?

I'm saying this as not only a YWSer but as Incog's older sister and I dont like that she was upset because she couldnt even start her own storybook.**

Hiroyuki

He held his gun in his fingers, hands shaking uncontrollably as he held his breath. He could hear the mockery of the other soldiers when he closed his almond-shaped eyes, then opened them with a strong sense of what was right and wrong. He would die for his country whether or not the soldiers thought he loyal to the country or not. He would denounce his nationality if he had to to gain the trust of his home, his place of peace. He would protect his peace and his rights.

"Please help him," Hiro spoke in his broken english. He was fairly fluent in english but when he was scared his mind suddenly panicked and he started to forget half the words he tried desperately to remember. "He... hit his head."

Jenny, the medic, looked down at the boy, resting her hand against his head then grabbed some guaze from out of her pack. His helmet had been lost in the tossle and when he fell his head had hit the ground hard. It was bleeding but nothing too serious. Hiro held his head up as Jenny started to wrap the guaze around his head.

"There," she said quickly, handing him his discarded helmet. "I fear he may have a concussion."

Her voice was barely audible behind the barrage of noise that enveloped all around them.

"I will watch him," Hiro stated simply before taking his gun in his hands and staring over the debris. His comrad's were being picked off by snipers.. easy. Raising the gun higher, he began to pick off every german soldier he could, his teeth clenched as he did so. Every shot was on set, none wasted. The only thing that came with the pressure of death for him was the pressure to keep his shot in line. That pressure normally killed a sniper for their shots were awful, but his became more prestine under such hatred. He would kill as many as it took to make sure they were all safe.

~~

~The.Dreamwalker

Matt~~

On the boat I checked and rechecked the workings on the springfield.

"Five minuted 'till contact!"

I looked up and saw the sheer cliff of Normandy Beach rising up in front of me. I let a shiveer run through my body before readying myself for the charge.

The gate went down and we ran out. bullets whistled by and the men beside me dropped like flies. I threw myself on the ground behind a rock and pulled the bolt back on my rifle.

I peaked my head up and had a three second look before a bullet hit the rock. I let out a long breath, then popped up and let out a single shot. I looked up and the person was gone. I let out another breath before popping up for another shot. I was about to get back down when I saw the RPG leveled at my cover. I cussed and through myself away, running up the beach. A bullet ripped into my thigh and I fell into the trench.

I tore off my shirt and did a quick fix for the gash on my thigh.

I wobbled to my feet and saw the US forced struggling to advance up the beach. This would be a long day.

Matt~~

On the boat I checked and rechecked the workings on the springfield.

"Five minuted 'till contact!"

I looked up and saw the sheer cliff of Normandy Beach rising up in front of me. I let a shiveer run through my body before readying myself for the charge.

The gate went down and we ran out. bullets whistled by and the men beside me dropped like flies. I threw myself on the ground behind a rock and pulled the bolt back on my rifle.

I peaked my head up and had a three second look before a bullet hit the rock. I let out a long breath, then popped up and let out a single shot. I looked up and the person was gone. I let out another breath before popping up for another shot. I was about to get back down when I saw the RPG leveled at my cover. I cussed and through myself away, running up the beach. A bullet ripped into my thigh and I fell into the trench.

I tore off my shirt and did a quick fix for the gash on my thigh.

I wobbled to my feet and saw the US forced struggling to advance up the beach. This would be a long day.

Cpl. Benjamin Warrant Martin

He exited the boat quickly and ambled right into one of the many crators that were close to the waters edge. They were most likely made from either enemy mortar fire or from the large pillboxes that stood omniously farther up the beach. Shifting his Springfeild in his arms, Warrant slipped up the beach agile, dodging any gunfire that came at him luckily. His platoon had been split up on multiple boats, blended with another platoon, so trying to catch sight of them seemed impossible in this mess.

One of their planes flew over head sending an array of rapid fire on the enemy giving him the chance to get up and sprint. There was a trench just a while ahead, if he could just get their in time...

To Warrant's surprise, he saw a head pop up from the trench, wearing the green American helmet and automatically Warrant felt recognition of the man. He was part of their platoon, and if he was going to continue this way, his head was going to be shot off.

"Oi!" Warrant yelled at him, trying to catch his attention. "Get down!" His voice could barely be heard from the machine gun fire that blazoned from a small German encampment up ahead. They had spotted him. But just before they turned the gun, Warrant fell face first into the trench pulling Matt down with him. A cloud of sand and dust was lifted from the the rapid fire of the machine gun.

"Where is the rest of our platoon?" Warrant felt himself ask briskly. "Have you seen any of them?"

"No sir, but I believe they shouldn't be far off." The man replied, grasping his gun tighter. It was then that Warrant saw the injury in the man's thigh, the blood was starting to stain through the ragged cloth already. The man tried to cover it but Warrant had already spotted it.

"You got shot soldier."

"It is nothing that won't heal." He said persistantly.

"We need to get a medic to you." Warrant felt himself start to tremble. The last time he had said that line, someone had ended up dying. "Where is Jenny?"

"I don't know sir."

"Damn."

---------------------------------

~Incognito

Private Jonathan Bryant, "Sketch"

His foot tapped against the ground, adrenaline already pulsing through his body as the boat neared the shore. He looked about himself, standing a little to peek forward. The sight was horrific, barely visible puffs of red rising from the boats that had already landed. The muffled rattle of machine guns in the pillboxes on the hill, and the roar of mortar shells hitting the ground, reached his ears, and he decided that there was no way he was going out the main entrance of the boat.

He shifted a little left, getting close to the edge. "Hey, what're you doing, man?" A soldier about his age asked, "You've got plenty of room!"

Sketch's eyes were a little wild, he had to survive this. He'd been promised a flamethrower if they could get supplies to the beach, and that was not an opportunity he was about to pass up. Besides, they were going to need Engineers like him if they were going to crack open the concrete fortresses on the hill.

"I'm going over the side." He said, grinning wildly, "No point dying now, eh?" The man nodded, shrinking away a little as he recognised the mad Engineer for who he was.

"Contact!" The man at the front yelled, hitting a lever. The metal plate guarding them from the machine guns fell forward, and blood immediately sprayed from the yelling man's chest. He fell sideways, half clogging the way out as he screamed. There was commotion at the front, soldiers clambering over him and dying in the process.

Sketch was already over the edge, holding his breath as he swam through the shallows, as deep as possible. His eyes stung from the salt, and bullets whizzed past him in the silence, trailing comet tails of bubbles.

He surged out of the water and sprinted up the beach, Springfield clutched it one hand, the other holding his helmet on his head. A hand reached up from a trench and grabbed his ankle, sending him sprawling into it. Another engineer, "Sketch! What the hell are you doing, man? You'll be killed if you just try to rush that hill!"

He looked about himself, "Where's Anne?"

"Your squad's radio girl? I think I saw her 'bout a hundred metres that way!" The man yelled back, pointing down the trench.

Sketch ran off in that direction, ducking to avoid the bullets and shells from snipers, machine guns and mortars that sprayed dirt all over him. He finally found Anne, and grabbed the redhead by the shoulders, frantic, "Anne! How long until the supply boats get here? You have to get in contact!" He let go of her and brandished his rifle, "All I've got with me is this damned thing, and I want what I'm best with!" He looked around, and, as an afterthought, added, "And where's the rest of the platoon?"

Keith Smith (Smitz)-

It was odd how time slowed and yet sped up during a battle. Everything's coming at you so fast yet all the other men around you flip over and die as if in slow motion. Limbs and bodies flew up in the air as another mortar round hit a hundred yards away.

I looked around and immediately saw Anne. "Anne!" She and some engineers were ducking from the rain of bullets. I ran up and slid under cover.

"Nice slide," Sketch commented.

"Anne, when are those supplies coming?"

"He already asked that! I don't know!"

"Well-" Another round hit and shook the earth. "Blast." I looked over and started firing the Thompson I held. A small group of Germans fell, but that didn't help us much.

"Where's Tyler when you need him? He's supposed to keep the blasted platoon together!"

"Who knows," Sketch called and fired his gun.

**Sorry, I didn't reall know what to post. Keith is an artillery officer and is supposed to be with the major artillery like howitzers. There weren't any howitzers on the American's side of the field.**

Anne~~
After being questioned twice the trench was filled with soilders shooting and throwing. The ringing of one's ears were unbearable.

"DAMN IT GET ME THE SUPPLY BOATS!" She yelled into her radio's head pieace.

There was only static without answer.

"I SAID GET ME THE GOD DAMN SUPPLY BOATS BEFORE SOMEONE'S FUCKING HEAD IS CHEWED OFF!!!"

Smitz and Sketch fired about her, seeming to keep the other shooters at bay.

"please..."She whispered helplessly into her head piece. The small station she was at shook under the explosions and nose.

"Are they on their way?" Sketch asked, his hair was a mess and his right arm was bleeding.

"I have no clue," She looked about whispering, "Please god, oh god,"

"Sargent Harris are you there? Sargent Harris," A fuzzy voice came through her head phones.

"Yes I am! Are you sending any-"

"Look towards the bay Anne dear," Boats were coming by the doubles.

"Hell yeah!" She cried as tears ran down her cheeks.

"What Sargent?"

"Nothing sir," She answered as she smiled into her mike.

my comp died so i may be a long time in between postings

Hiro

He looked down at the bandaged man who was now sitting up, rubbing the back of his head underneath his helmet, eyes staring blankly ahead.

"What the hell..." He muttered under his breath. Hiro suddenly handed him his gun, voice rushed.

"You must protect yourself," Hiro murmured through clenched teeth, braid wiping across his face as another barrage hit the shoreline. "Protect Jenny too."

Hiro then got on his feet and bolted as fast as he could back towards the shoreline where he would be able to stock up with a new sniper rifle and a bag of ammo. He felt the dirt under his left foot push up as someone fired and barely missed, so he ran faster, ducking down at to make himself look smaller till finally he made it to the encampment in which he stocked up quickly. When he was finally armed and ready to return, he bolted back to where Jenny and the soldier had been hiding. She looked terrified to say the least, but he could tell she wanted nothing more then to help as many people as possible, and there were many people in need of her assistance.

So he made a decision, not on his rank, but on his pride that he would make sure to protect her while she helped as many people she could. Yes she had the red cross on her and yes it was true that they were not supposed to fire at such medics, but sometimes those sorts of things were uncontrollable, and if he had to, he would protect her with his life for she was saving others.

So he got back to the place in which they hid, gun in hand as he watched the soldier sniping mildly, his shots ragged due to the fact that he was both untrained in sniping and he had a mild concussion.

"Tell me where you need to go and I'll clear the path," Hiro stated simply to Jenny who was looking over at a man who seemed to have been shot in the thigh.

"That way," she pointed in the direction. Hiro nodded, putting his rifle on his shoulder before pegging off four soldiers in which would most likely target her from this range. The closer soldiers, he hit in places like the knees and the arms, but the farther off ones couldnt be helped.

Jenny then ran towards the man with the bullet wound in his thigh and Hiro stayed put, sniping whoever fired in any range near her.

Private Jonathan Bryant, "Sketch"

"Hell yes!" Sketch shouted triumphantly as the supply ships hit the shore. "Now we can really give the Krauts a taste of some all-American goodness!"

Smitz clapped a hand on his good shoulder, hauling him back, "Hold your horses, Sketch. We all want those supplies, but you think your going to be twice lucky getting back to that boat? And you think you'll be able to make it back here afterwards? No one, Sketch, no one can dodge that many bullets."

He nodded, scowling at the distance between their makeshift trench and the armoured boats squatting in the shallows. Then he turned his scowl towards the pillboxes on the hill. "Well then. I guess we'll just have to start clearing them out before I can get my hands on something worth using." He licked his lips a little, then grinned, "Hey...I do have a spare satchel charge on me. Do you think we'd be able to get far enough up that hill for me to sling it through to 'em?"

It wasn't how Sketch had envisaged clearing out the bunkers, but he was known for getting a little twitchy, so no Quartermaster with any sense was going to let him near a flamethrower until he was out of the boats. And now he couldn't reach one, so conventional engineer weaponry was going to have to do. Of course, the distance he'd need to be at to throw his satchel in, no sane engineer would attempt. Even if they were known for being somewhat crazy for building bridges and setting bombs under fire, Sketch was crazy even by their standards, at least under the right circumstances. And these...these were definitely the right circumstances.

Smitz looked a little nervous at the suggestion that they get that close, as did Anne. Sketch grinned from one to the other, "Well?" He asked, "Do you guys think we can?" Then it occured to him, at last, that they outranked him. He mentally shook himself, trying to calm his all-too-jumpy body, then saluted Anne, "But I guess you're in charge, Annie! So it's your call if we do or don't."

Keith (Smitz)-

"Thank God!" I cheered as men were heading to the boats.

"Good going Anne!" Sketch shouted and fired again. I fired rounds upon rounds at the Nazis heading towards us.

"We need to get out of this trench," Anne shouted over the bombs.

"Kind of late!" I shouted back and fired. Blast, I'm running low on ammunition. We all needed to get back to those supply boats.

I felt a hand practically punch my shoulder and spun around. It was our Lieutenant.

"We'll take it from here Smith. You all go resupply."

I nodded and dragged Anne and Sketch away, both of us still shooting while we ran as to protect Anne (though she could probably protect herself).

James Tyler

I held my weapon, bringing down Nazi after Nazi. My 1911 Pistol fired truly and I silently said a prayer of thanks for all of the hours I spent in practicing my shot. I wasn't nearly as good as Takashiro, but I could defiantly hold my own.

"And get the rest of my damn platoon here!" I yelled back, hoping one of the three had heard me. I started muttering under my breath as I shot more of the enemy down, "Chaos gets you killed. Organized chaos is how you win wars."

I ducked down, scanning the area for my platoon.

"Private Cauthon, head back to the supply boats until a medic is found. You're no use to us if that leg gets any worse.” I turned to Warrant, “Where the hell is Jenny?”

“We don’t know, sir.”

“Damn.” I looked around again, “Get someone to get Anne back so we can find someone who does know.”

My mind was reeling with ideas. Those pillboxes were going to be the death of us if we didn’t deal with them quickly.

Matt~~

I shrugged the rifle back up to my shoulder and fired off a couple of more shots towards teh german front before ducking back under cover. I was not scared, I just was not foolish with my life.

The rest of our squad was there from the quick glance I gave them.

"Let me see your leg."

I turned to see Jenny pulling out a medical kit but I shrugged her off, "No. It just scraped my leg. It's no big deal, go help someone else thats worse off."

"Im the medic. You do what I say. Now show me your leg."

I stuck out my leg and resigned myself to not being able to help the fight.

When she said she was finished I offered a thanks and then peeped out over the ditch again. The supply boats were drifting towards shore and a wave of relief flowed through me.

"Captain, you want to fall back? Or hold position?"

Anne~~

They really needed to give her her own gun, like seriously. She was now surrounded by three of her squadron and they were risking their lives as they all ran towards the supply boats. Nazis were everywhere and kept coming,they seemed to never just die. She punched one in the face with a quick thunk of her fist.

"Hah tell that to your mother!" She yelled as the man went down.

"Anne!" Sketch yelled as he fired more, "Duck!"

"Oh crap-" She ducked and ran in between the circle formation the men had formed, before thoguh she picked up the man's gun whom she had so graciously punched unconscious.

"How do you shoot this thing?!" Anne held up the german gun and shot a man in the leg who was coming forward with his own version of the gun.

"Oh.." She shot again and again aiming for the men's legs and arms.

The supply boats were finally close by and within running distance, but it was kind of hard at the moment. The ground's carnage matched her hair but she just shot more at the enemy. The men surrounding her had also seemed to be running out. The small formation ran up the ramp that the boat had put on the beach two milliseconds before hand.

"Sargent," the private saluted Anne as she wearily walked by.

"Private," She saluted him back with a wave, "Get these men what ever they ask for. The saved me the trouble of going to hell,"

"Yes mam!"

"Thank you so much, you are the greatest people alive and if you need anything just tell me straight up" She wouldn't usually hug her troops but this time she just had to"Oh and by the way where is the radio room?" She asked the private.