The Story Of Metz

The same soldier came and picked me up, I hugged and kissed my family goodbye. I was heartbroken but I was helping the union, defeat the rebels. I heard our front door shut behind me, and I promised myself that I was going to make it back. After 3 days of traveling we made it to the camp, and my canteen was empty. The general was there to greet me and told me the plan. I settled in for that night and ate dinner. It was definitely worst dinner I have ever had. I turned my lamp out and I snuggled next to my dog in the pup tent to keep warm than I was snug as a bug. It was a burdel cold night. Early that morning, soldiers woke up and most of them had frostbite on their fingers and

I took a look into his mind and through his eyes, and I couldn’t see anything. It was rubble and dusty, lying on the cold hard dirt. Cuts and bruises all over his body, and all he was thinking was if he was going to die. Earlier that day, he had killed one of the main leaders of the enemy, and had been promoted to colonel. And now, he was lying on the battlefield, cold and lifeless.

A missile has hit trucks travelling back to camp about 2 miles away. I ask the captain “how many?” he replies “3 trucks, 33 recruits” I am shocked but determined to go and help them. As I get there I see there’s nothing around for miles, just sand dunes and a few elephant trees and rocks. The scene was chaos, me and a few others joined the 10 medics already there. The captain confirmed 13 dead and the rest injured. So I begin to help patching up a broken ankle on lieutenant Quinn. he was driving the first truck and his ankle was trapped under a foot pedal, he will be fine but some had serious head injuries who have been taken back already. I am sat talking to Quinn asking him how its been out there, “he said quiet, I think they were waiting for this opportunity”. Then I hear a sound, like a plane only getting louder, and in an instant everywhere was dark, sounds fuzzy like an electromagnetic noise from a television, I begin to get flashbacks of my husband and children. I hope they will be okay then I was

The sound of German scouts awoke Lt. Ryan Erickson, he’d hung in the tree for hours after his plane was shot down, all the while his harness digging into him. He was in a large cedar tree smelling of burning fuel from the black smoke billowing out of his plane, the tree Erickson was in was well covered, he knew the scouts couldn’t see him given he could barely see his plane, and if he stayed in the tree he wouldn't make it through the night. He got their attention by dropping his pistol and giving a weak wave, he had been in the smoke since the plane crash so he could barely walk when the Krauts got him down, so they loaded him in an ambulance and sent him to the medical building in Stalag 8b, a POW camp southwest of teschen.

As he pulled the trigger, the sound of a machine gun echoed, throwing me off balance. I fell to the ground as a tiny drop of sweat striked my hand. “ Help! Help! ”, I cried for I was afraid. Not only afraid of that vigorous sound, but afraid that my family would lose me.

The noise of gunfire was all around me. Left and right, my comrades were falling, and I could do nothing. The sound of screams and explosions echoed through my head. Our helicopter had gone down in the heat of battle. Whether or not my copilot survived, was unknown to me. At the time, all I knew was that I needed to continue to fight for my country. As screams echoed from other comrades, tears flew down my weather beaten face.

This scene was all too familiar. The crackling of gunfire ringing in his ears and the acrid smoke burning his nose as he crawled through the carnage. The battle was still raging and he watched as soldier after soldier fell around him. Friends and comrades as well as some strangers or people he only met in passing, they were all dying.

I shake my head, the thought of family allowing heaviness to weigh on my shoulders, and I stalk back to my bunk. After Devlin stands up, I tightly and swiftly make my bed, exactly how my sergeant taught each of us in boot camp. Our leader wakes everyone up; we are heading out on a mission today. Even though we do this every day, I cannot help but wonder if I will see this place again. Pushing these thoughts aside, Delvin and I head to the mess hall. Our younger friends, Cato and Felix Germain, are fast behind us. The two are never apart, best friends and actual brothers. The four of us made our way through the line, I thanked each person as they plopped food down on my plate, one of the female servers seemed surprised at my southern accent. I just smirk and move on, my wife, Adara, hates the way women gaze at me. This individual thought, causes my mind to revolve only on thoughts of her. Thoughts of my wife seemed to help calm me. The memory of her small figure against mine, how soft her raven hair was, or how kind her chestnut eyes were.

I wiped the sadness from my face and gazed at the beautiful sunrise hoping to find salvation in its rays. For some weird reason, it felt comforting, like my brother was consoling me from the grave. Leaves were blowing with the wind and my hair brushed in and out of my vision. Birds sang to their children as the ball of flame rose higher, signaling morning. The chill hit me then, and I remembered that a shirt would probably be necessary today. The world really could be beautiful sometimes, if not for the bloodthirsty monsters trying to end me around every corner.

As another day goes by I lay there in the true prairie. The Germans had invaded The United States Of America. Gunshots after gunshots going off. Men , Women and Children are lying helpless in the streets. Being so young and so scared you have no clue what to do. There are no sirens as stores are being looted fires arise from vehicles. Thinking you are too young to die is all that runs through your mind.

Less than 20 feet away from me, a bomb exploded. Blood spattered, and bits of acrid smelling skin sailed passed my ear. Behind me, a group of American soldiers charged forward, their machine guns aimed towards the sand dunes. I looked down at my little brother Martin, who was laying curled up in the fetal position, his head pressed against my chest.

Captain Tony Lane was an A-Team Commander, 19th Special Forces Group, 2nd Battalion, Charlie Company out of Kenova, West Virginia. He and his team were on the run from an infantry company from the 172nd Infantry Regiment that was under the command of Colonel Magnus. The team had spied what looked like a squad of soldiers earlier in the day heading their way and there was no doubt they would find the hide. In the hurry to evacuate the hide and move further into the forest to hide from the approaching soldiers Sergeant First Class Toby Powell tripped and block his ankle. Out of all the things that could happen at the most inopportune time this was it. Captain Lane ordered the rucksacks to be left and destroyed. They were all piled, so they thought, and a thermite grenade thrown on top did the job. The only problem was that SFC Powell’s ruck was left against the wall because everyone thought he had tossed it in the pile.

The morning of your life assures and promises a new beginning. It is the time to secure your present moment on earth. Never waste your morning till feel secure and accomplishment of how things are working to your good.

One day out of the blue, German officers marched through our door and took us away. We drove in the back of a truck for hours until we reached the train station. Then we were forced to pay for a train ticket to go to this secret place. The eight of us huddled tightly together, telling each other how much we loved one another. “What is happening?” I asked my husband. He answered, “I’m not sure, but just know that if something really does happen--” He then was interrupted by the sudden stop of the train. He never finished his sentence.

The pouring rain was falling hard and fast like a speeding steam train, accompanied by a thick mix of fog and smoke that blocked the sun more than 200 feet away. The path we were traveling on was blocked by fresh and rotting bodies, enormous puddles from the days of rain, hiding the massive amounts of shrapnel whizzing through the thick fog, smoke and the mud too. I turned and looked at how my fellow soldiers were holding up. On my left was Arthur, the youngest solider in our squad. He looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, one most common after everything he’s been through, he was so terrified you could see the tears rolling down his mud covered face.