Rewrote part 2.3's Ending, Wrote part 2.4 of my short stories series, so that yiwei can stop bugging me constantly. EnJoy!
Part 2.3
I woke to the smell of strong aroma of a nice hot pot of coffee being boiled over the stove. As strong tantalizing smell wafted deep into my nose, I realized that I had ate nothing for the past two days, save for the flask of whiskey I found. I shook myself awake, went into the living room and saw Sophie setting up the table for breakfast, which consisted of a few eggs that was sizzling in the pan on the stove, a nice big pot of a incredibly fragrant coffee and a few slices of bread.
She made me sit down and placed a plate of egg and bread, together with a cup of coffee in front of me. I thanked her for the meal, and wolfed down my food. After the meal, she told me that I could stay as long as I liked, as I was in no condition to fight in the war with my leg wounded. I took up her offer and thanked her profusely, offering my help for any chores she needed around the house.
The days went by without any incident, I helped her draw water from the well, weed and look after the plants she grew in her garden. It was one week later. It was the middle of the night, when Sophie shook me awake. She had a wild and frantic look in the face that scared the living daylights out of me. She just told me to grab my gear, place my uniform in the bag and follow her; saying that she had to move off soon.
When I asked her what’s the reason for moving in the middle of the night; she said that the Germans found out that she was with the local French resistance, and that they were coming after her. I groggily got to my feet, took my uniform and stuffed it in my bag, wore my boots and followed after her. Before we made it to the door, a big fat German officer kicked open the white wooden door and strode in. His left hand was placed in his pocket, and in his right hand, he held a huge pistol; that looked small in his humongous palms. The pistol was cocked, with a round chambered inside the barrel.
I felt downright uneasy as the officer, which looked very much like those hypocritical, greedy world war two German officer that Hollywood portrays, leveled his pistol and aimed it at my chest. He had a sadistic smile on his face as he fingered the trigger. Before he could shoot, Sophie leapt forward and tried to knock the officer off balance. But the officer was so big and strong Sophie’s attempt was akin to a fly trying to move a cow. The German officer did not fall down, but he did lose his concentration for a split second; grabbing that chance, I pulled out the dagger I kept hidden in my boots and lunged at the officer, plunging the knife deep into his upper torso, pulling out the dagger, I saw his face full of hatred, horror, fear and pain. Before he could react, I plunged the dagger back in and stabbed repeatedly, until he fell to the ground, struggling with the very last ounce of life left in him, trashing his legs wildly. I saw the partly obscured moon covered by hazy dark clouds from his eyes that showed nothing but painful agony, knowing that it would be the very last thing that he would see.
With bright red blood bubbling from his mouth, I knew that my knife punctured his lungs. With the moonlight now shining gently in to the house, the hazy light reflected bright red blood on my dagger. I dropped the youth knife, reached in my bag for the metal flask of whiskey; but before I could reach it, I felt an agonizing pain in my lower back. I shot straight back up, sending jolts of pain from both my back and my thighs back into my brain. I looked up, straight into Sophie’s face, with her face covered in such shock that made me wonder what happened to her, until I saw the still smoking pistol in her hands.
Part 2.4, With a “Shake and Twist” ™ Ardi.
I looked up, straight into Sophie’s face, with her face covered in such shock that made me wonder what happened to her, until I saw the still Smoking pistol in her hands.
As I slumped against the walls, Sophie dropped to her knees, crying uncontrollably.
I could only make out a faint “je suis désolé, I didn’t mean to…” Before I blacked out and fainted.
When I woke up in the ever familiar bed, I was dressed in clean clothes, and there was a bandage wrapped over my wound. Sophie was sitting in an old wooden chair next to the bed, and there was a bullet in an old metal tray next to her, which told me that the bullet in my body was removed, probably with the tweezers in the first aid kit we took from the Red Cross package earlier on.
Pain shot from my waist all the way back up into my head as I attempted to sit up. Sophie looked at me apologetically and explained, that the officer has been terrorizing her for three years, repeatedly harassing and looting her things, last night’s attack was a blur for her, as she took up the Luger from the floor, she closed her eyes and fired in the darkness and confusion, not knowing that I have already killed the German officer, as it was dark, and the struggling added to the confusion as to who was killing who.
I gently told her that it was alright, that I was still alive and kicking.
I further rested for two days to let my wound recover as much as possible, wore the clean clothes and continued on with my task, promising Sophie that I would come and visit her if chances permits.
I hefted up my backpack unto my back, reloaded all the magazines, checked the sights of my weapons and off I went, in to the night.
Did I tell you how much I hated the night? On a dark night, It’s pitch black, you couldn’t see someone clearly, all the trees that lined the roads all looks like German soldiers silhouette, The branches looks like the rifles, and the knobs on the trees looks like grenades bulging from their pockets.
On a good night, with a bright full moon, The scope of my sniper rifle, or any metal parts that I might carry would reflect the moon very efficiently, and catching mister grim reaper himself by the eye, and his scythe would come swishing down upon me.
As I continued towards Caen, I snapped myself out of my thoughts, and began paying attention to my surroundings, landing my feet as softly as possible, listening to any sound that stands out of the crickets incessant calls.
My Objective was two fold, It was to land behind enemy lines at Gold beach, I would press towards the city of Caen, along way, I was to take out target of opportunity should they present themselves, such as;
1)
i ]German officers
ii]German N.C.O’s
( To hinder any coordinated counter-attacks on our invasion forces)
2) Radio operators and their radio sets
(To prevent German forces on updating their high command in Berlin.)
3) Disable enemy tanks through sabotage to key components
(very obvious why)
Under no circumstances, was I to join into a normal infantry platoon or fighting unit, Ground commanders have been briefed that the actions of snipers in the field was only answerable to either General. Eisenhower, Montgomery, Churchill, and Lastly, God.
The Second phase of my plan, if Mr. Grim does not claims me; was that I would sneak into Caen, and play a deadly game of Cat and Mouse with enemy snipers in the pulverized city, thus clearing the city of any snipers; and clearing the way for the larger invasion force.
Suddenly, my eyes caught sight of a speck of red dot suspended in the air, roughly three hundred meters away. I got on my belly and inched my way forward, until I could make out the chocking smell of the German cigarettes; it contained so much damned horse hay that it might as well been made into horse feed.
Hiding in a slight upside down L shape depression in the side of the road, I made sure I was covered from his sight should he walk down; I took out my darkened, but still very intricately decorated Hitler youth knife out of it’s sheath and gently stuck it in the soft ground.
I was doing all this because, when a target looks too easy, i.e. Smoking in the night, Taking a crap in the woods, the only reason they would do risky things like this in war time would be, they have a buddy not far away, holding a very deadly rifle or in this case, A buddy sitting in a machine gun post, reading a book; but nevertheless ready to pounce up to his MG-42; which could spew hot lead at 1200 bullets per minutes.
I took a Small handful of stones and flung it further down to where I was lying. The Smoker German took the bait, and casually made his way down the road to see what was going on, without even informing his buddy, Bad mistake. My dagger has his name on it right now. As he strolled past me, I gently stood up, stalked behind him.
All in the time of four seconds, I cupped my gloved left hands that contained a palm full of mud and cupped over his mouth and nose pressing down really hard. I stabbed the knife in my right hands into his throat repeatedly, and was satisfied that after 15 seconds, he simply died due to excessive bleeding and the ever lack of oxygen.
I quickly took out his Jacket which recognized him as a private first class and put it on. I was now Private First Class. Friedrich Schneider Frisking through the body quickly, I found nothing of interest.
Now moving up the road, the German sentry paid no attention to me as he thought his buddy returned from maybe relieving himself or some other crap like that. I walked straight pass him, turned around quietly and gently crept up to him.
as I stood behind him, he back and saw my shadow covered face. At that very instant, I raised my elbow and sent it crashing down towards the top of his skull, and I heard the crack of the bones breaking, of both his severed spine and the top of his skull, as blood oozed out from his nose, went through his body and found a nice souvenir, a custom made serrated tip knife/dagger, and the blade so sharp, it would have put a doctor’s scalpel to shame; The knife sheath was another object of wonder, it had a ruby placed snugly in the middle of the sheath, and intricate patters were carved around the ruby. There was also a swastika flag wrapping the whole knife. I placed the whole knife and flag in my jacket pocket, where it has buttons to keep things from falling out.
I than sabotage the fifth round and the sixth round in the mg-42 Magazine belt, such that when it’s fired, it would create an explosion such that the gun will blow up, that being done, I moved a few hundred meters into the dense forest beside be, carefully dug a foxhole and curled to sleep for the night.
FINALLY! PART 2.4 IS COmPLETED!!