The wind was fierce, the English Channel surrounded me. The harsh waves crashing against the sturdy walls of the boat. I hoped that the walls would hold. Adrenaline swelling inside of me. The putrid smell of sick clogged my nose; I couldn’t help but notice my comrades making the sign of the cross.
Looking to my left and to my right as far as the eye can see were war ships.
My body started to freeze up,
The beach a few yards out everybody preparing to
get of the boat and run into the death-defying sea.
That moment the whistle blew, the ramp fell and…
it was time.
That moment I realised the strength of the water was stronger then I imagined. My legs weakend; I began breathing faster, heart thumping rapidly.
Hands shaking I held my gun above the water level, which was up to my waist. The world around me was like running in slow motion but dodging bullets at the same time.
The sound of engines behind us, machine guns firing and men shouting was deafening my ears.
Then it hit me…
My friend had been shot and I couldn’t help him. We hadn’t even reached the beach yet…
but I had to carry on. Feeling nauseous I reached the shore, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide or dive behind.
Blood covered everything but it was my blood…
I had been shot …without time to react I was down.