July 1944
Dear diary,
I died yesterday, and yet here I sit writing in my journal as if nothing has happened. I died. I watched my body being taken down from a tree hanging from my white parachute. I screamed and cried while my commander ordered my body to be sent home to Alabama, and yet no one heard me. I yelled and yelled and waited for the angel of death to take me away, and yet here I sit . . . waiting. All I can do now is watch and wait for my time to come. Time to come? yeah as if some one like me has a chance of steppin inside those pearly gates. Saint Peter would laugh at me and send me packing to my own kin. Right back down here. I guess if you don't have the honor of dwellin with God they just leave you on Earth now, in your own personal hell. I bet you're interested in how I died... Well Here it goes.
"Go! Go! Go! We're over the drop zone!" The airman stood by the drop ramp, waving his arms forward. Every non-skin forming piece of clothing flapped in the breeze like a fish out of water.
"This is it Jalen! See you on the ground!" Those were the last words Jimmy (Jimbo) Fischer ever spoke to me. He dove out of the back of our glider and commenced parachuting behind enemy lines. I followed right after him, the frigid French air stinging my lungs as I dove head over heels, plummeting to the ground below.
Air whistling past my ears, I pulled my rip-cord and was tugged upward. The night air around me filled up with thousands of parachutes. The mass invasion of Normandy had begun, and I was in the heart of it. My unit, the 101st Airbourne, was going to distract German armor and secure key bridges and land masses to halt the German defense forces from defending the beach head. This was our mission, and we did not fail. I was part of the screaming eagles, America's Go-to force when a butt whooping was needed, and we do not fail.
As we plummetted groundward, German Flak-88's opened up fire on our troops. Jimbo being closer to the ground and in range of the explosive shrapnel rounds, was torn to shreds right before my eyes, along with a dozen other men from my company.
We were all left defenseless and open to harm from the large land-to-air guns. Plane after plane, man after man went down from the airborn shrapnel; deadly stingers flew through the air ripping through armor and flesh alike with no remorse.
Being completely defenseless, all I could do was watch as a missile launched, fiery tail in pursuit, over my head detonating just feet above me. Shrapnel showered down, ripping my parachute and colliding with my helmet. Losing control of my descent, a shard of metal smacked into the rear of my helmet, sending me into an unconscious spiral, spinning towards my death, me being none the wiser.
In other news, no sign of Jimbo anywhere, I've looked. I seem to be the only dead person still around here. The only thing I can interact with is my journal. I don't feel the breeze, the sun, the soft grass, nothing. This life will be interesting
Gender:
Points: 605
Reviews: 75