Chapter 1 Omaha Beach

  "Boom!" Along with the deafening roar of a nearby shell, the massive power stirred up mud that directly buried me hiding behind the anti-tank stakes.

  I was shaken by the explosion of shells, my head buzzing, I shook my head hard and emerged from the soil, it took a while to gradually come back to my senses! In front of me were several reinforced concrete fortifications, forming a crossfire, constantly spitting out flames, "Boom boom boom" wherever they passed was simply flesh and blood flying everywhere, forming an impassable wall of fire. And the mortars hiding behind the cover continued to throw shells onto the beach, adding more terror to this bloody sea area!

  Just as the bunker's firepower paused for a moment, I saw a soldier with a big nose covering his helmet, jumping out of the bunker and running forward with his rifle, about to jump into the crater left by the previous shell. Unfortunately, his luck was not good, and the MG42 machine gun inside the bunker started firing again, its 7.92mm bullets pouring down like hail, instantly turning him into a beehive... no, it should be said that he became a bloody mess of flesh and blood. This cruel and bloody scene made my whole body tremble with fear!

  "Oh my god! Is it because I played too much WWII games? Heaven, don't play with me like this!" I clutched the top of my head, which was covered by a ridiculously small steel helmet, and crouched behind an anti-tank stake like a startled ostrich. In fact, since the 12th time playing that damn game, suddenly finding myself in the body of an American soldier, under such intense artillery fire, any thoughts had become insignificant. Staying alive was all that mattered!

  The intense bombardment and the brutality of the battlefield, this is not something that can be portrayed in a movie or game. Almost everything seen is death; too many wounded soldiers on the verge of death are groaning, lying on the ground in agony, with the sound of the waves, there are not a few who have rushed into the sea and drowned alive. Severed limbs are no longer fresh here, just within arm's reach, there is an unowned thigh floating quietly over there. The blood of too many people has completely dyed this sea area into a bloody sea, I don't know how many sharks have swarmed in to smell the blood, perhaps soon I will also become the remnants of their biting and tearing! And not far away on the sea, there are countless Samuel Chase infantry landing ships that are about to pour wave after wave of soldiers onto this devil's beach!

  "Konti Zhong Shi, what should we do? The German artillery fire is too fierce! Many brothers have been scattered!" A few American soldiers hiding behind a battered anti-tank stake not far from me shouted loudly in hoarse voices.

  Damn it! Alright, from the memories I read, my current identity is called Konti, a sergeant in Company A of the US Army Rangers, assigned to the Omaha Beach assault. Damn the crossover, damn the game! The only way to survive is to get off this damned beach! This isn't about orders, it's about survival!

  I raised my head and took a look, on the other side there were several American soldiers rushing to take cover on the beach, the MG42 heavy machine gun was like a great white shark smelling blood, chasing after them! This is an opportunity!

  "Boom! Boom!" The fierce battle had already made all the coordination and cover lose their due tacit understanding. I ran desperately, and as soon as I dove into that huge crater, the German MG42 machine gun followed me like a dog, with bullets "whizzing" around the crater. One of them grazed my back, causing a burning pain that almost made me cry. I reached out to touch it, and found that it had rubbed against my spine, just barely missing shattering it and sending me to meet the American God. But looking at those few American soldiers from before, they were ultimately shot like sieves, dead beyond dead!

  "Medic! Medic!" Touching his own blood, to be honest, although there's blood and limbs everywhere here, seeing that much of his own blood made him feel a bit dizzy!

  "Sergeant! Sergeant! What are we gonna do!" An American soldier, carrying an infantry radio set, also jumped into this nearly one-meter-deep crater and squeezed in with me, anxiously looking at me!

  "Damn it! What else can we do? Rush over! Otherwise, we'll all be waiting for death here!" Looking at this unknown messenger soldier who somehow found me, my face felt like it was going to turn green. Damn it, I needed a medic, damn it, this wound is killing me!

  "What about the officers? Are they all dead?" War has reduced civilization to nothing, and I have returned to the era of being a rough beast. What civilization, what courtesy, in this hell where cannons are firing continuously, it's all gone to the devil.

  The phone booth soldier was expressionless, but still replied in an American-style dry humor: "They're all dead! You're the luckiest officer I can find!"

  "Damn it, I'm so damn lucky!"

  The Omaha beach is crescent-shaped, wider in the middle and narrower at both ends, with cliffs about 30-50 meters high at both ends. The beach is a relatively gentle slope, standing in this small crater, I looked up and estimated that the distance from the beach to the small protective sand dike was about 300 meters away. The small protective sand dike is composed of rubble and gravel, about half a meter high, enough to hide many people. In fact, more importantly, due to the large angle of depression, the German pillbox and artillery fire cannot completely cover this place. That is to say, as long as I can rush here, my life will be at least saved by half!

  The German machine guns were like the scythe of the Grim Reaper, tirelessly sweeping the beach with their fire, while the heavy artillery and mortar shells churned up mud waves, making the entire ground tremble non-stop. On this small beach, they wantonly vented their power, telling people that they were inviolable here.

  "Forward, forward! All to the sea wall!" I don't know how many people heard my voice. But I saw a lot of living people, bravely rushing forward, although most did not rush to their destination and fell in the hail of bullets, but still some lucky soldiers rushed to the bottom of the embankment.

  The German commander apparently lost his cool and ordered part of the coastal firepower to cover the seawall with suppressive fire, instantly relieving some of the pressure on the entire beachhead.

  "Too good! Charge!" In this case, don't charge. Once the enemy commander reacts and gathers reinforcements, the troops that charged forward will soon be suppressed again or completely wiped out, which would be a loss.

  The radioman was right behind me, crouching low as we sprinted towards the seawall. Maybe the German firepower had deemed our two solitary figures not worth bothering with and instead focused on the landing craft that had just pulled up to the beach, their forward hatches taking a pounding, "Rat-a-tat-tat" ripping into the bodies of American soldiers who hadn't made it out in time, the intense cannon fire cutting off the troops who'd already reached the seawall from the supporting units behind them, snuffing out what little momentum we'd gained. I was still in grave danger!

  "Officer, officer! Where are our tanks?" The various units had already dispersed, and several soldiers who had rushed to the seawall saw the radioman carrying a backpack radio behind me, thinking my rank was very high, didn't even bother to look at the insignia on my uniform, and asked me bluntly.

  "Damn it! Don't ask me! Who's in command here?!" "Shit, how the hell should I know why that damn tank didn't follow us?"

  The capture of Omaha Beach was the most important part of the American Normandy landings. The beach is located on the northern coast of France and faces directly onto the English Channel, stretching for 8 kilometers from Sainte-Honorine-des-Pertes in the east to Vierville-sur-Mer in the west. This beach held great significance for the Allies, as if they could successfully capture it, British troops landing at Gold Beach to the east would be able to link up with American forces landing at Utah Beach to the west; this would allow the entire Normandy front to be integrated into a single, cohesive battle line along the English Channel. From here, strategic supplies could flow continuously to various battlefields! The Germans' defeat was already sealed!

  In the overall Allied operational plan, at the same time as the infantry landing, there was a battalion of tank troops that would closely follow and support the battle, but now in this difficult moment, Sherman's figure is nowhere to be seen.

  "Sir, you're in command here!"

  "Damn it! It's absolutely wonderful! Radio operator, radio operator are you dead? Report to the commander, call the tank, call the tank!" For this temporarily appointed battlefield commander, I have become numb. The role of the commander has become negligible here, and his only function is to convey orders and urge attacks. Who knows when I will be shot down by a single bullet, and then another guy from who-knows-where takes over this position.

  "This is Alpha Company, repeat, this is Alpha Company! Enemy fire is too intense, we cannot take D1 Beach! Repeat, we cannot take D1 Beach! I need tanks! I need tanks!" The battlefield's artillery almost drowned out the radio operator's already hoarse voice.

  "Tanks can't support, tanks can't support! We need you to clear the beachhead! Repeat, we need you to clear the beach!" The desperate voice on the other end of the radio had already become numb.

  "Damn it, the tank can't make it, call in naval gunfire support for me!" I don't know if the artillery support that Americans can call in at any time and place in the game can respond in this real world where artillery fire is pouring down from the sky. Now I'm praying to God for protection!

  The signal corps soldier lay on the ground, shouting for artillery support with his throat torn apart. The Germans apparently discovered the long antenna extending from the signal corps and determined that this was a battlefield command center, and a MG42 heavy machine gun kept this place as its focus of fire.

  "What the devil, what troops are these?" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

  "Sir, we're all mixed up here! There are men from A Company, F Company and G Company, and also some from the Navy's demolition team!"

  "Sappers! Sappers! Blow up the barbed wire with explosive tubes!" The wound on his back, torn by machine gun bullets, had been hastily bandaged by a medic who rushed up from behind, but it still hurt terribly.

  "Sir, you're really lucky! Just a hair's breadth from being sent home!" The medic's joke wasn't that funny.

  "Oh, thank God! I hope you're as lucky!" For some reason, since crossing over into this American soldier's body, this kind of dialogue that is completely devoid of nutrition and humor always comes out effortlessly. Perhaps this dry humor is inherent to Americans? Even though the soul of a native-born Chinese person like me has taken over this body, it can't change this habit. Whatever, now isn't the time to think about this issue.

  "Get the explosive tube! Get it quickly, damn it! I'm going to die here!" In the battlefield where cannons shook the sky and made one's ears deaf, everywhere was filled with desperate curses and inaudible prayers. The cruelty couldn't be described by any language.

  A few American sappers finally found a few explosive tubes, bent over and rushed towards the embankment. The Germans apparently discovered them, and the MG42 machine gun blocked their way with a firing rate of 750 rounds per minute. One of the unlucky ones in front was hit, his body paused for a moment, and then was torn apart instantly. In this hell, people who have arrived here have become bloodthirsty and numb, the death of comrades has made too many people feel no fear or terror, life is no longer their own, it has nothing to do with bravery!

  The sapper brought the explosive cylinder and finally broke through, then began to set up the fuse. At this time, I was shocked to find that my temporary telephone soldier had died at some point, and what's more, the telephone had been pierced by a machine gun bullet and was completely scrapped.

  "Damn it!" I cursed loudly.

  The barbed wire blocking the advance was about to be blown open, but dozens of American soldiers rushing up the seawall were so focused on running forward that they had unknowingly dropped their guns in some corner, and a portion of the soldiers' firearms had become unusable due to being clogged with mud. In this situation, even if an opening was blasted, there would be no way or strength to continue breaking through the German defenses.

  "Gather firearms and ammunition! Gather firearms and ammunition quickly!" I loudly roared at this group of anxious American soldiers, for here I am the commander!

  Several dozen rifles were concentrated from the dead and living, distributed to the twenty-odd American soldiers still able to move on the seawall. Looking at the disorganized American soldiers who had been beaten, I had no choice but to take command and temporarily organized three assault teams, preparing for a forced assault. At this time, the engineer had already installed the explosive tube and stretched it into the barbed wire.

  "Get down! Get down! Lower your head and get down!" The engineer soldiers kept loudly reminding.

  A loud "boom" sound, the iron wire net was blasted open a big gap, many American soldiers who had been suppressed by the Germans for a long time suddenly let out a cheer!

  "D1 gap has opened! D1 is open!"

  "Grenades, grenades!" My command was not made in vain, as behind the barbed wire there were still thirty meters of sandy beach below the cliff. Within this short distance, the Germans had laid out nearly a hundred mines of various types. If we didn't take care and rushed forward with our heads down, my team of almost thirty people wouldn't be enough to withstand the explosion. In an instant, nearly a hundred American MK2 "pineapple" grenades were thrown out. Rumbling sounds erupted one after another, with the sound of grenades exploding and various mines being blown up and detonating. The massive black smoke from the explosions had not yet dissipated, and the enemy had not yet reacted...

  "Charge! Charge!"

  Seven or eight American soldiers, emerged from the cover of the embankment and charged forward! The German machine guns also helped out, after nearly a day of fighting, possibly causing the machine guns to jam, the German soldiers were busy replacing parts! If not now, when?

  "Charge! Everyone charge!" Without hesitation, I sprinted forward again with a burst of speed and luck, narrowly avoiding the Grim Reaper's scythe once more as the MG42 on the hilltop resumed its familiar "Rat-a-tat-tat" sound, shredding the American soldiers behind me to pieces.

  I randomly asked a few people around me, and two-thirds of them declined. Now there are only about ten people left. Oh my god, do I have to be the only one in command?

  "Damn it!" Hiding under the building at the bottom of the cliff fort, just forming a very narrow firepower dead angle with the German defense line. However, safety is temporary. When the enemy attacks from the side, we dozen people will be a pile of slaughtered pigs. "This won't do! The Germans will eventually gather artillery to clean up this place!"

  "Who has a mirror and chewing gum?"

  Someone behind me pulled out a small mirror from their pocket, while another black soldier was not idle, at this time, still chewing gum, hearing that I wanted gum, he grinned at me.

  "Damn it!" escaped his lips. He pulled out a dagger and stuck it to the mirror with chewing gum, making a simple observation mirror.

  An MG 42 was hiding in a bunker right in front of us, spitting out flames and blocking our advance!