A Winter From Hell

I had been through all of the battles that the 101st Airborne has taken part in. Many men have fallen defending freedom and liberating Europe from the Nazi giant. From Africa to Market Garden I have fought. None of the men we have lost died in vain. They fought to their bitter end before being killed. They are the real heroes of this war.
I sat in my foxhole remembering that. We have been holding the line in Belgium for about a month now. On December 6th Hitler launched an offensive in the Arden forest on the border of France and Belgium. The bitter cold has frozen weapons and has halted some of our armored divisions. Each day the German counter attack trying to push us back. German artillery bobbards us before a counter attack. It destroys everything.
“Men stay in your fox holes I think I….INCOMING!”
Artillery fell from the sky hitting the groung without mercy. This must have been the third time this month. As the shells fell I satyed crouched in my fox hole. I chuckled a little bit. The loud explosions reminded me of me and my dad. Every Fourth of July we would set off all kinds fire works. The shells reminded my of fire works going off. I would have not been laughing if I had known that two of my comrades were hit by German artillery shells. When it finally ended the sergeant came running out yelling.
“SAY IN YOUR FOX HOLES THERE GONA MAKE ANOTHER COUNTER ATTACK!”
We went quite and we could hear a faint monde in the distance.
“Medic lets get a Medic here now!” Yelled the Sarge.
I was told to go help the other two soldiers assisting the medic. It was only a twenty-five foot walk but visibility is poor due to the constant snow. Two soldiers were hit by German artillery fire. Caparzo and O’Neil. Caparzo had his right leg blown off at the shin. O’Neil had no missing arms or legs but had bad cuts and deep gashes.
“Lets get these men to the town now. Get a jeep up here now!” said the medic.
I ran back to the HQ and got a jeep. I final got back and helped load the wounded on the jeep.
“Town is one mile west of here. It’s a little town called Sir La Vince. Take them to the church, you can’t miss it it’s a big building.” Said the Medic.
I made my way to town. The roads were in bad condition due to all the snow and ice. I got to the town. I got a few nurses to help bring in the wounded men. The town looked horrible. The Germans had bombed it a few times. I went inside to see the fellow men that were wounded. The image of men half frozen with their innards hanging out will forever be embedding in into my mind.
“Sir I need help now in here” I heard from a nurse.
I went running over to assist her. The soldier was lying on a cot badly wounded. His platoon had been ambushed by a German recon unit. Apparently he was shot in the stomach three times with a German machine gun.
“Soldier come here and apply pressure to his stomach wound,” said the Nurse.
His stomach was cut open. My hands had to go into his already cut open stomach to apply the correct pressure to his wound. This would slow the blood flow to the wound. My hands went into the wound. My hands felt his innards. He was writhing in pain. I can’t blame him. Having being shot and then having a mans hands in your stomach to stop the bleeding is painful.
“Hold on soldier” I said to the wounded man.
“I-I.. Am t-t-trying,” He mumbled.
“You got a wife or kids, don’t let them down your going to make it” I reassured him.
“I-I.am married, I-I…don’t have any kids” He replied very sickly.
“You’re going to make it, your going to go home fine ok,” I said.
“Give my wife this,” He said.
He pulled out a piece of paper folded up.
“I wrote this back in June after we landed in Normandy. I just want to tell her hoe much I love her,” He said with a tear in her eye.
“I will I promise you that” I replied back to him.
“He is dead,” said the Nurse.
I took my hands out of his stomach. My hands were covered up to my for arms with blood of a one living person. Now is lifeless shell of what was once a man helping to fight for democracy and to crush the fascist monster. I took a towel and wiped the blood off my arms and hands. I took the note from his lifeless hand. I put it in my jacket pocket.
I left the hospital and went back out to my jeep. I sat in the seat slumped over the steering wheel crying. The last time I saw any carnage that bad was when we landed on Normandy. I want this war to be over now. I cleared my eyes and started the jeep. I drove back to my post in the Arden Forest. Back to the foxhole waiting for another German bombardment. I got word that after I got back from the town the Germans bombed it till it was a smoldering pile of ruble. I liked the nurse that needed help. I go word that she was killed.