Racism-Personal Narrative

avoid the marksman who discovered me, using the Nazi’s hedgehogs, metal barricades, for cover (Austra). The crater was now only about 10 yards in front of me, but they bullets started coming faster and in larger numbers. I took two more steps and dived forward. I landed in the crater, immediately turning around to look for Sgt. Thompson. I found the boat, but I couldn’t see him. Not a split second later, three guys pour out from around the corner of the boat, Sgt. Thompson included. The first man that turned the corner was instantly eliminated. I turned back around to cover them. I took aim at the bunkers and began to shoot at the bright lights flashing from the crow’s nests. These were the machine gunners. Each shot I took carefully, inhaling

Let’s figure out what our next move is and continue to move up.” he said. He looked over to the five men leaning against the sand. “We need to get behind that barbed wire and start advancing up those bluffs to those bunkers (Runge)! I’m Sgt. Thompson. I will be your new C.O. (this stood for Commanding Officer)!”
They were all low ranking soldiers. One of them spoke up, “I’m Pvt. Peters, and this is Pvt. Johnson, Pvt. Brown, and Pvt. McKenzie. We’ve been stuck here for quite some time! We need to hold up behind the wall of barbed wire (D-Day Barbed Wire), using the dunes for cover. We will be safe from enemy fire and can get some of these explosives to eliminate the wall so we can advance! We’ve been trying to radio for air support, but we aren’t getting a damn response!”
Sgt. Thompson suggested a plan. We were to move up to the wall, one by one, covered by Pvt. McKenzie. So we did just that, moving up one at a time, covering one another. Various troops were catching on to what we were doing and began to try and reach the dunes. Not all of them were successful. One soldier, only about 18 years old, popped his head up from his cover in the sand. His helmet instantly flew off of his head, and his head had all but disappeared. What seemed to be a gallon of red paint soaked the soldiers behind him. I lost sight of what was going on and fell into deep thought. Who is his mother? Where did he live before being sucked into the life-sucking abyss we called

We were at the only entrance, so we lined the wall, on each side of the door. Just as we were about to toss in explosives, a grenade rolled out. Pvt. Brown was the first to notice it. He leapt forward from the wall, and laid on top of it. Preparing for the worst, we all lowered our heads. It was a dud, ineffective. It didn’t go off, but Brown was fully exposed to all who were inside. Bullet after bullet penetrated his body. Pvt. Peters looked at the body of his once close friend. I saw the anger swell within him. Seconds later, he turned the corner into the doorway, screaming at an ear piercing level. “Die you German bastards!”