A Trip To Cracker Barrel
You adjust your infantry helmet as your landing craft rafts towards Normandy Beach. Patrick lights a cig while Kyle cleans his M1 Garand. Private Ryan looks at a photograph of his girl back in Alabama. He was always an introverted kid, a victim of the draft, but a patriot nonetheless. Michael looks at a photo of his wife with her boyfriend. He smiles. Logan and Nick play a game of poker (an early prototype of Balatro). They play with bottle caps and an old card set missing many in the deck, the waves toss and mix caps but it doesn't matter, its all a distraction to try and forget what comes next. Juni hurls from seasickness. Logan writes a note and slides it to Kyle, he grins with ill intent and subtly nods his head. Captain Commando takes deep breaths, drowning out the waves with the white noise in his head. If he focuses hard enough, the noise sounds like the beach outside his home. He's there with his wife, and his son, Liam Headshot. The waves roll, as father and son run in the sand, he picks up Liam, only 9 years old, and they laugh as the waves knock them both over. Leaving Liam fatherless would ruin him. He holds the memory for as long as he can, smiling but no one can see it except for Liam. For now he remains straight faced in motion with the rocking of the waves, an ignored stopwatch in hand relays their expiration dates.
No one speaks.
The monotonous beating of waves is broken by what sounds like gravel beating against the metal hull, but deep down everyone knows they are projectiles arriving to claim their lives. Following them, the quiet rhythm of machine guns match the beat of the lead.
As they grow closer the bullets leave marks, now fresh enough from the barrel to nearly puncture holes.
The captain kills the silence of the crew.
"REMEMBER WHO WE ARE AND WHAT WE ARE HERE TO DO. WE ARE UNITS TO BE KILLED. OBJECTS TO BE USED. THE MEANS FOR THE ENDS. WHEN DEATH COMES KNOCKING WE AREN'T SURPRISED, RATHER OUR SUITCASES ARE ALREADY PACKED. I WILL DIE, YOU WILL DIE, AND IF ANYONE LIVES ITS BECAUSE HELL IS NO LONGER VACANT."
He looks for the first time at the stopwatch.
"ONE MINUTE UNTIL THE WAVES NO LONGER CRADLE OUR POOR ASSES."
A mere moment after his speech, another landing craft comes into sight, its crew eerily still. It is noticed too late but the craft of charred corpses is on a direct path hurdling into your vessel. The men inside the other craft screech in terror, as some are missing arms, legs, or more. Many others wail as the burning fuel of their ship coats them, the flames illuminating parts of the body never meant to be exposed to the eye. The two tombs collide, knocking your craft off path and killing the driver. Many of your crew are knocked over board, and amongst them is Juni clutching onto the edge of the railing over the violent waters.
The bullet rain rattles, matching the volume of the primal screaming.
No one speaks.
The monotonous beating of waves is broken by what sounds like gravel beating against the metal hull, but deep down everyone knows they are projectiles arriving to claim their lives. Following them, the quiet rhythm of machine guns match the beat of the lead.
As they grow closer the bullets leave marks, now fresh enough from the barrel to nearly puncture holes.
The captain kills the silence of the crew.
"REMEMBER WHO WE ARE AND WHAT WE ARE HERE TO DO. WE ARE UNITS TO BE KILLED. OBJECTS TO BE USED. THE MEANS FOR THE ENDS. WHEN DEATH COMES KNOCKING WE AREN'T SURPRISED, RATHER OUR SUITCASES ARE ALREADY PACKED. I WILL DIE, YOU WILL DIE, AND IF ANYONE LIVES ITS BECAUSE HELL IS NO LONGER VACANT."
He looks for the first time at the stopwatch.
"ONE MINUTE UNTIL THE WAVES NO LONGER CRADLE OUR POOR ASSES."
A mere moment after his speech, another landing craft comes into sight, its crew eerily still. It is noticed too late but the craft of charred corpses is on a direct path hurdling into your vessel. The men inside the other craft screech in terror, as some are missing arms, legs, or more. Many others wail as the burning fuel of their ship coats them, the flames illuminating parts of the body never meant to be exposed to the eye. The two tombs collide, knocking your craft off path and killing the driver. Many of your crew are knocked over board, and amongst them is Juni clutching onto the edge of the railing over the violent waters.
The bullet rain rattles, matching the volume of the primal screaming.