This is the first bit of book one of a five book series(possibly six)that i am working on,its about a man named Sam Livingston who joins the army to fight the Nazi's in WW2,then it continues w/life
A gust of wind swept through the valley and into the trench, bringing with it the odor of death and decay. It caused me to pitch over. My hand flew to cover my nose. I tried desperately not to vomit.
A man nearby chuckled, “What’s the matter Sam, the smell getting to ya?” He said with a southern drawl and proceeded to grin, this was my friend Frank.
“Yeah…we’ve been here what, six months and haven’t so much as a few yards here and there.” I said. Frank and I were bunkmates in boot camp, we both endured the hardships of Fort Evermont, just a few miles out side of Tacoma Washington, and rewards of it, and came out smelling like roses.
“I heard that we’re going to go to Africa, then up to Italy, but you can’t believe everything ya here.” Frank said.
I nodded, I too had heard about that, though I doubted its possibility, what with the stalemate here in France, the Allies couldn’t afford to lose soldiers on the fronts, or so I thought, after awhile I fell asleep.
When I woke up, I couldn’t remember where I was, at first I thought I was lying in a graveyard, with all the bodies laying around, but everything came back to me quickly, then Frank ran up to me.
“Hey Sam, guess what, I was right, we’re moving out now, to go to Africa, better hurry.” He said.
I sat up, still a little groggy from sleeping, but I stood and followed him.
Our company was moved to a little town on the coast of France, along the English Channel. We were loaded onto a destroyer, guarded by a two others, due to the recent sinking of them. The destroyer took us to a small town in Tunisia; the trip took two months, which equaled many times I got seasick. When we arrived, we saw that there were going many more soldiers than us. The Invasion was set to begin in two weeks, enough time to rest and re-supply for the long battle ahead. As the days passed I got anxious, I was rested and ready, but the generals wanted to wait for the right time, so we could sneak up on them, I also met a few others who were to join us in the invasion. On the day we were to set out, I woke up to calm skies, the birds chirping, and sunlight streaming through the window of our barracks. ‘A good sign’ I thought, was I wrong. We set out in a transport ship. ‘Here we go’, I thought.
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The pitch-black sky was motionless and the air held a crisp fresh smell to it, and the wind was quiet, except for the occasional blasts, from enemy artillery fire that met the transports in hopes to sink them. As our transport neared the beach an artillery shell exploded near us, it knock over the transport and sent everyone flying, I flew into the air and landed with a sickening crunch coming from my left shoulder, but I was still alive. I swam back towards the transport and found Frank-floating face down on the water, nearly dead. I dragged him to a deserted bunker made of sand and mud, carefully trying not to get shot. I ducked as an artillery shell exploded above my head, releasing an ear-splitting roar.
“Frank, are you o.k.” I asked. He groaned, “Yeah, I’m going to have a hell of headache ‘cause of that bomb.”
“That’s the least of our worries, if we want to live, then we’ve got to run like the wind, and get the hell off this beach.” I said. I helped him up, he was a little shaky but ready. We ran up the beach, hiding and running, trying not to get shot. We reached a concrete barrier, about thirty feet high, with slits so gunners can shoot out of them, this stood in our way to safety. I suddenly heard the sound of planes and looked up in time to see a group of P-51’s fly over us and release bombs. The planes are here…oh no! I thought, feeling slightly relieved, yet, worried that a bomb would hit me.
; I had little time to do anything. A roar thundered as the bombs hit their targets, I was knocked to the ground by the blast, dazed by the explosion I struggled to stand up, and finally, I got up, but blacked out.
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When I woke, I could feel the warmth of sunlight on my face, I blinked, trying to see straight and saw that I was lying in a hospital wing along with other injured soldiers. I pushed myself up right in a sitting position and started to look around when I saw my friend Frank lying contently in a bed, slumbering away his pain. “Frank…hey Frank are you awake?” I said quietly, though loud enough that he would hear me, but he didn’t stir.
Just then a blond haired nurse walked in, “ How are you feeling Mr. Livingston?” She asked. “I’m feeling better, how’s Frank, he took a wallop on that beach.” I asked. “He’s fine, there’s going to be bumps and bruises though, they found him underneath a pile of rubble of what used to be an enemy defensive barrier.” She said. “Wow.” I said, surprised, but thankful, that Frank survived. “You both should be back on the frontlines within a week.” She said with s reassuring smile. She turned to leave but paused and turned around, “Oh, and by the way, the Allies have taken Sicily, and part of southern Italy.” She added, and then she left. I laid back on my bed and tried to recount the last few days in my head, it seemed like only yesterday I was a young man from Klamath Falls, Oregon, having just gotten out of high school, eager to serve my country…little did I know the horrors of war, I soon drifted off to sleep.
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It took three days to fully heal and rest; Frank and I were discharged from the hospital and sent to the Italian front headquarters to be re-assigned where we were needed. When we reached the camp both Frank and I was lead to the commanding officers tent, in the middle of the camp.
“Lt. Livingston and O’Hare reporting sir.” I said as we both saluted. “At ease Lieutenants, I’m general Berker, I heard about what happened to you both, you’re lucky…now, about your posts, both of you are going to be assigned to the 3rd Infantry division, they’re going to be the first to head north, and hopefully take Rome, both of you go get your gear and get ready, you move out in an hour.”
“Yes sir.” I said. I left to find my residence tent, where I would be staying, though only for less than an hour…I found it in about five minutes. I entered the tent and saw two men sitting at a make-shift table playing cards, one of them got up and walked over to me, “Livingston, correct?” The man asked. “Yes.” I said. “I’m Charlie Dunlin, this here is Daniel Johnson”, he indicated the man he was playing cards with, “I heard about you getting blown sky-high, just glad it wasn’t me, this is your cot”, he pointed to a cot in the back, He said. I walked over to it and laid down, I was beat…I fell to sleep fairly quickly.
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I was woken up thirty minutes later, but it seemed longer. “Lt. Livingston, I am Captain Bryan Traze, 176th Paratroopers Division, you’ve been re-assigned to us, you have ten minutes to grab your stuff.” I sat up and reached for my pack and my rifle. Captain Traz turned and left, I followed. He led me to another tent, about a mile away. When I entered the tent I saw a large table that encompassed nearly the whole room, on the table laid a map of Italy, on either side of the table stood men in dark green uniforms, with patches on their right shoulder, it beard a white crest with black capital “P” in the middle, two lightning bolts crossed the middle of the crest, and on the top of the crest was the name of the Division and location. “6th Paratroopers Division, this is the newest member, Lt. Samuel Livingston,” Captain Traze continued, “we move out in three minutes. You are to meet me at the airstrip” he turned and left.
A few seconds later a man approached me,” I’m Lt. Donald Cutter, your cover man, just follow me to the airstrip, oh… this rifle is yours.” Donald said, as he handed me a brand new rifle. He turned and grabbed his pack and headed out of the tent. I followed suit, as he led me to the airfield.
When we arrived at the airfield we were escorted to a glider, as we approached the glider a man in his late forties walked towards us, “I am Captain John Arden, mission leader, this glider is what we’re going to use, we are going to drop in behind enemy lines near a town called
Gaeta, while there we are going to first establish contact with the local resistance leader, Renoldi Geona, secondly, we will aid them in taking out the local Nazi soldiers, then take the town, we must succeed, this is a strategic point in the attempt to take Rome, we must not fail, everybody clear?” “Yes sir.” Everyone replied. “Okay... everybody move out!” Captain Arden said. Everyone jogged to the plane, our packs bouncing with our movement. I climbed into the glider and found a seat, but soon realized that we were assigned to certain seats, specified by our two-man teams. “Livingston, Cutter, here and here.” Arden said as he indicated two seats next to each other. “Alright, start getting the rest of your gear on, helmet, parachutes, which should be in your packs, and your rifles which needs to be connected to this rope,” he indicated the rope which hanged from the uniforms, “it is so you don’t lose your rifle in the free fall or landing.” Said Arden. A few minutes past as the team got the rest of their gear together. After the team had got together their gear, and were ready, Captain Arden signaled the pilot to take off. I let my head lay back and relax against the wall of the plane.
“Five minutes until drop, everybody get ready.” Captain Arden called. I struggled to sit up; my legs had fallen asleep and refused to wake with the rest of my body. I managed to get up in a couple of tries. “When you land you are to split up in cover buddies so you hopefully won’t get shot, but the entire group needs to scatter just enough to know where each other are, you know the rest.” He returned to the cockpit for a few seconds then returned. “Okay, lets go!” He opened the side door of the plane, the effect nearly caused him to fly out, but he covered it up, he motioned for the first group to go to the door. “First group…go; second group…go…” Finally it was Cutter’s turn and mine. “Next group,” he yelled loud enough that we both could hear him, I moved to the door, behind Cutter…he leapt careening through the air. I started to get a little afraid. “Livingston…go!” Captain Aden yelled. Without thinking I jumped out, a sudden rush of fear, adrenaline, and sickness hit me as I careened out of control. I stabled my self so that I wasn’t doing cartwheels in the air. As I shot down through the air like bullet, about a million thoughts rushed into my head, possible death being one of them. Cutter signaled me to pull the cord, I pulled it and the parachute came out perfectly, no need to scream. As I drifted down to the earth I glanced around and saw a peaceful, serine forest, but in the distance, to what I thought was the south, were the flashes and echoes of artillery. The flashes illuminated the sky like the annual fourth of July fireworks did back home in Klamath Falls, how could a place like Italy get dragged into a war like this, a few minutes later I caught up with the ground, I landed hard, sticking my hands out to brace myself was useless. I lay on the ground quietly for about five minutes, listening. Trying to discern if there was anyone around me, other than the rest of the group. I didn’t hear anything so I got up...
I saw Cutter a few feet away, lying on the ground. I quietly walked over towards him and waved my hand, hoping to get his attention. He motioned me over. We started walking towards where we were told Gaeta was; hopefully we would find the rest of the division. We had been walking for a few minutes when suddenly there was an explosion a few feet away. Gunfire soon followed. I dove for the ground, finding cover by a nearby tree. I looked frantically around to see what exactly was happening. I saw two Nazi soldiers maneuvering a machine gun. I loaded my rifle, aimed, and fired. It was a direct hit. The first of the two Nazis maneuvering the machine gun fell with a stunned look on his face, and a hole in his forehead. I re-loaded my rifle, took aim, and fired. The bullet went straight into the neck, causing the soldier to grab his neck, trying to stop the bleeding, but then he fell on the ground and remained motionless, forever. I maneuvered my self towards the machine gun. I approached the machine gun quietly; I checked it to see if it was loaded, it was. I searched for enemy targets to hit, and hopefully even the odds. I saw two Nazis taking aim, I quickly aimed consecutively at both of them and fired, both fell dead.
I continued to search, aim, and shoot; being careful not to shoot anyone that was on the same side I was. Suddenly, a bullet ripped through my shoulder, causing me to cry out in pain. I fell to the ground. I was in shock. I lay on the ground for what seemed like eternity, but then the violence stopped and there were voices coming from my left. I was motionless, trying not to attract attention. A person came over to me, to check my pulse. I let him, praying that it wasn’t a Nazi soldier coming to see if he could finish me off. Instead of feeling a gun to my head or instant death, there was a strong, reassuring voice. « Mr. Livingston, you are in good hands, we are not Nazi soldiers. » I opened my eyes. I saw a man who had black hair but small streaks of white sprouted from his temples giving evidence of having lived a long life; he was slightly heavy set and looked like he was in his early fifties. « Renodli Geona, Italian Resistance leader in Gaeta. » he said.
He offered a hand to help me up, I accepted, reaching up for his hand. “Follow me, you will meet those of your comrades who where lucky enough to escape un-scathed.” He turned and started walking. I followed. I had been following him for a while when we approached a village. “This is Gaeta.” Said Renoldi. We followed the main road into Gaeta. We reached a little house; which I presumed was the Italian resistance headquarters; I was correct.
Ronoldi knocked twice on the door. A voice sounded through the door. “Password?”
“Liberte á Italia.” The door opened with a man holding a rifle; aimed out the door. Renoldi motioned me to enter. I abided. He followed me in. I was greeted with the sight of the rest of the 176th. They sat around a small fireplace. “I will go gather something for all of you to eat.” Renoldi said. He turned and walked through a doorway that was on the left as you walked into the cottage. I sat near the fire near Cutter. “What happened?” I asked. Cutter looked at me; his face bore a grim dressing. “Well, we landed safely; but then we were ambushed by a Nazi platoon, it seems that they were out on patrol. They just so happened to be passing by when we landed; guess they heard us hitting the ground. They ambushed us pretty hard, trying to split us up into separate groups; to confuse and weaken us”, he gave a grim smile,” and it worked.” He added.