Other Fan Fiction ❯ A Paratrooper's Experience ❯ Operation Market-Garden ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter 8

September 17, 1944

950 hours

 

 

 

 

It was time to jump. It was time to start Operation Market-Garden. Suddenly, the light turned red. We stood up and hooked up. A minute later, it turned green.

“ Go, go, go!” ordered Lt. Boone. Ever since Normandy, Lt. Boone had become our leading officer. Everyone trusted and respected him.

I quickly jumped out and felt the fast breeze of the air. I could see and hear explosions. Planes were being destroyed and most were damaged. I floated and perfectly landed without getting hurt.

By the time I landed the fighting had already begun. My squad was busy shooting some Krauts near a house. I decided to run and help them out.

“ Hey, help us here Smith.” Anderson said as he picked off the enemies.

“ Hey you got back from that hospital?” I asked.

“ Yes. Now fire your Thompson, dammit!” he replied as his clip ran out.

I nodded and fired my weapon. It immediately hit 2 Krauts trying to charge in our position.

I quickly reloaded and fired at the Germans again. This time all of the bullets missed.

“ Wow you sure suck ass, Smith.” Sgt. Nichols commented. Sgt. Nichols was a fresh recruit from England.

“ Shut the hell up.” I replied as I reloaded.

“Rückzug!” A German shouted as they fell back.

“ Alright let's mop up.” Lt. Boone stated as he stood up. He motioned for us to follow. We understood and followed.

Then we approached a house with some clothes hanging from the clothesline. I looked up and saw a man holding a lamp and pointed to a shirt hanging. Curious, I fired my Thompson on the shirt. A Kraut fell down from behind the shirt. Blood dripped from his shoulders.

When we continued we saw an 88 artillery gun with its crew operating it. More Germans were patrolling the area. We immediately planted a machine gun and fired at the unaware Germans. They immediately fired back at us. I shot at the 88 crew. They immediately died from the powerful fire of my Thompson.

“Tank! Northwest!” Nichols cried.

It was true. A tank was approaching.