“The Unkown Soldier”

            He was euphoric once his feet were on the ground. The paratrooper’s fall from the plane, with the red glow of bullets rising from the ground was forever burned in his mind, although he did not think of it once he had safely touched the occupied French soil. The eighteen year old virgin warrior only knew that plane he had jumped from exploded shortly after his leap of faith, and that his landing was nowhere close to the rally point. Most of his comrades had died before they had a chance to exit the plane.  Nazis were everywhere and he was severely outnumbered.

The largest invasion force ever assembled crossed the English Channel, heading for the coast of France. Thousands of other soldiers were dropped behind enemy lines to disrupt any German reinforcements that would attempt to thwart the invasion. Hitler’s curtain draped much of the world. The world’s greatest war was at its ruthless climax. Men from all walks of life were prepared for their death, so that reason stood a chance to survive.

The young man quickly dumped his parachute and loaded his weapon, while keeping his head down like he was hugging the fertile ground. A slight west wind blew. The brave warrior urinated then drank some water. Planes were still flying over and projectiles were still rocketing through the sky, littering the early June night with seeds of destruction.  The near distant report of large caliber anti-aircraft guns, along with the occasional explosion was all he heard. Other than the noise of the fighting, the atmosphere sustained a mixed feeling of peace and eeriness. The young hero did not wish to stay in the open field in which he landed.

 He sought refuge in a fortress of oaks nearby, staying low and moving with stealth. The kind of stealth only a country boy would know. Stealth built over a lifetime of living away from the development of the new age. Like so many brave souls who fought in that war, he still held old traditions in his bones. His kind were still rugged, a breed which would one day dwindle, but will never disappear because it is impossible for them to fade. The infantryman had grown up on a farm among a large family, and had worked outside his entire life, helping provide for his poor family whom he loved so. Crouching behind a hundred year old oak tree, he briefly thought of his family back home. Then he thought about the millions of families like his in America, and across the planet. The helpless children who had perished and the many more who would perish if the United States failed, he thought of them. He walked through the forest, invigorated by the thought of home and the people he would save and avenge.

The stout heart moved naturally threw the forest and kept close to the field where he had landed in case some friendly forces jumped in. Where was he? In France, that was all he knew. They were supposed to jump in and attack positions situated around a key bridge. He prayed for a friend, another American to talk with and watch his back. Like all people he did not want to die alone.

“Nice night for a walk, eh!” came a voice from above. A man sat dangling from a tree, still in his harness.

“Man am I thrilled to see you,” replied the American in a hushed tone.  “What’s your name?”

“Ed Harris. Now quiet down and keep your eye out while I get out this tree.” Ed pressed against his reserve parachute which sat on his stomach, and pulled a lever that deployed his backup. Ironically the extra chute would have been useless had Ed’s original parachute failed to open because the planes flew at five hundred feet for combat jumps, which would not have left enough time for a second chance. Harris lowered the reserve parachute to the ground and climbed down the strong thin rope.

“Now that I’m outta that tree, how ‘bout we go kill some fuckin Krauts!”

Someone else had escaped from the plane. He could sense that Ed was an older man that outranked him, and had probably fought in the first war. Intense fighting could be heard within a mile. The allies were on a war party that day; countless predators falling from the sky committed to victory, while thousands more were rocking on boats crossing the windy channel. The young warrior followed the veteran Ed, as he fingered the wood grain of his M-1 Garand rifle. They walked among the oaks.

            The purr of airplanes could be heard. In a whisper, “Are they gonna jump over the same field we did?”

“If they do there’s a bad chance they’ll get shot down like our bird did,” replied Ed. “We gotta find them anti-aircraft guns and take’m out, or at least try to distract’em while our brothers jump in.”

The two made their way to the tree line that skirted the large field. The humming of planes grew louder. The mechanized birds carried more soldiers that anxiously waited to have their feet on the ground once more.

“They’re comin right for this same field,” said Ed. “As soon as the Germans start firin at our boys, we’re goin in guns blazin!”

The young man did not know if Ed was crazy or if he really cared that much about fellow soldiers. The hero cared about winning the war for everyone back home. He thought about the faces he had seen on the plane. Many were his friends who had suffered months of agonizing training, molded into primal physical condition in order to serve a massive and noble cause. So many men had endured so much, only to be shot out of the sky without ever having fired a single shot at the enemy. Never again would they look upon a beautiful woman, or perhaps marry one and experience the joy of children because a greedy and twisted man had coerced the German nation to spread an evil banner across the globe.

Forces outside himself draped the paratrooper with dedication only a noble man can feel. Both he and Ed waited patiently underneath the trees for the planes to cross the field and German guns to begin firing. The uneasiness of violence loomed upon the atmosphere. Men were about to do what they have always done, fight and kill one another for country and comrades. It would not be pleasant or fun, it would be confusing, and fast, and gruesome.

“When they start shootin’ were gonna rush’em,” ordered Ed. “Don’t shoot until we get right up on ‘em cause they don’t know we’re here.”

A line of planes with well over a thousand troops approached the field. Three different German positions began spraying the sky with lead. One of the German guns was surprisingly only about one hundred yards away. Without saying a word Ed sprinted towards the enemy while the young American followed behind. As the two sprinted onwards a strong west wind began to blow, and superhuman courage pumped through the two warriors.

Ed nearly ran on top of two Germans as he sprayed his Thompson into their chest. They were upon the anti-aircraft gun and every discharge from the giant gun was deafening. A Nazi had seen Ed kill the two men and he shot Ed in the face and killed him.

He continued the charge and instinctively shot the man who killed his comrade. The three operators of the German gun were in shock as the first American they had ever seen blasted rounds through their torso. The two other German positions still fired into the sky and the first American plane was half covered in flames as it plummeted towards its demise.

He was beautiful as his perfectly coordinated body galloped across the open plain towards his next target. He was unaware but he had reached a state of nirvana because nothing troubled his mind as air pumped through his lungs and his destination lay moments before him. This was the way he had always pretended when he was younger, running amongst the enemy and bringing havoc to those who intended on killing him.

The next gun lie on the other side of a small hill. He stopped and pulled out two grenades. The paratrooper pulled the pins and tossed the grenades next to the firing cannons. As soon as he heard the explosion he rushed around the small hill. Two Germans were running up the hill to discover where the explosion had come from and did not see the man who would end their life. He shot them both. They fell and died quickly. He approached the big gun and finished off the two men that the grenades had injured.

The allied planes had begun dropping soldiers from the sky. The earth shook and the force of explosion rocked the warrior’s body as another plane was shot down. He located the next anti-aircraft position and began to move towards it when a Nazi lying in the grass shot him on the right side of his chest and through his stomach.

He fell back onto the moist ground. As he lie, he looked up at the stars. More planes passed over and the sight was awesome as the sky filled with parachutes, and men floated downward. The sound of more gunshots echoed across northern France. He thought of his mother and brothers and sisters. Then he thought of a girl he would have married and the day he kissed her by the river. He died as the war raged on and another gust of wind blew in from the west.