The ramp slammed down, bullets instantly filling the small assault craft. As the projectiles slowly made they're way through the human mass i decided it was best to bail over the side. No better. Men all around, gasping as the life leaves their body, heartbeat by heartbeat. Bullets creating little vortexes in the water as they zipped through, some finding their mark. I lost my rifle, along with all my gear as i desperately tried to break the surface of the water. Suddenly strong hands pulled me up and into shallow water. I spluttered as the ice cold liquid drained from my lungs in great heaves. Then my mind returned to the current crisis. A burning P-52 blazed overhead, making its final mission by crashing into a bunker farther down the body strewn beach. Men surged forward only to be cut down by support fire from nearby machine gun nests. Something grabs at my foot, i look down to see the face of a young boy, no more than 18, blood pouring from the gaping hole in his body, tears weaving clean streaks on his blood soaked cheeks. I look up and wonder, how has it come to this?
