Omaha
By Tom Moor
“30 seconds!” yelled the driver. “Alright! Listen up! We’re going to be running right into the machinegun fire. If you make it through, we’ll rendezvous at the far side of the beach. Got it!?” Sgt. Baker yelled. “10 seconds!” yelled the driver again. As we got closer I heard the pings of the bullets hitting the boat. I heard the planes flying overhead. I could hear the distant artillery firing in the background. I was scared. I felt the sea water as it splashed over the edge of the boat. “God be with you!” said the driver as the ramp went down.
5 of the men were killed instantly by the barrage of bullets. I jumped over the side of the boat onto the body strewn beach. I crawled over the rough sand that stuck to my uniform as I moved. A fighter plane flew over guns flashing. One of the German bunkers exploded into a flume of fire, offering us some relief. I jumped up and started sprinting. A bullet grazed my arm, twirling me around. I landed right behind an anti-tank barrier just as the machine gun fire intensified. Men were falling down all around me as my eyes gazed upon the gory beach. Men that had been shot or blown up were yelling. Men that were unharmed were yelling. It was utter chaos. Bullets were popping and pinging all around me. Finally I stored up all my courage, grabbed my rifle, turned, took aim, and fired.