Dear Mrs Smith,
It is with regret that I write this letter to inform you of the death of your son, Pvt. Thomas Smith. He was KIA when he was launching on an assault on the French town of Brest. Tommy was a top-notch soldier and his company will never ever forget this hero amongst soldiers.
Sgt. David Jones
I sat in my boat, rhythmically rocking from side to side, waves crashing over and on top of me. My fellow company were leaning over the side heaving their guts into the English Channel. Omaha beach came into view; a sinister outline of German Turret guns chilled us to the core. “Alright guys, this is it! Keep low and stay alive!” Sgt. Jones shouted. I treated my Sergeant as my father, listening to his every word and obeying his every command.
Then the bullets came, I could see water splashing, blood spraying and I could hear bullets fizz past my ears. I dived straight into the sea, I could swim, but my kit was weighing me down. Underwater, I saw soldiers being shot and writhing around in the water, the blood like smoke from their body. I swam as hard as I could to the beach, it was strange, purposely going to the place I feared. I hit the beach, and headed for cover, a crater blown into the ground. I looked round, soldiers lay, bleeding, some with only a torso, others just a helmet.
submitted at 7:06pm
24 November 2007