then the explosives started to rain down like crazy.
“We can’t stay here. Come on, lad.”
Eric followed his uncle and the other men as they scrambled for cover.
A man was cut in half right in front of him and his blood and guts splattered all over Eric. He stopped to barf but his Uncle pulled him along.
“You can do that later. And keep low.”
They moved along, crouched as the enemy planes continued their bombardment.
“This is crazy.”
“War is crazy,” shouted his uncle.
Eric watched another soldier be decapitated.
He stopped to gawk and another man that was behind him almost ran him over.
“Get out of my way.”
Eric fell and watched as everyone ran past him.
Suddenly George McRea, now a young man, yanked him off his seat.
“No time for a nap boy.”
Uncle Alfred had stopped and was looking for Eric.
“Come on.”
Suddenly, there was more rumbling and a squadron of planes from behind them roared onto the scene.
“The good guys,” Alfred smiled.
The two flying armies squared off in the sky while the men below scrambled to find shelter.
A bomb dropped and part of the troop was instantly gone like someone had hit the delete button on a keyboard.
The remaining few soldiers scrambled up the hill with guns blazing. Eric tried to keep pace but fell down in the mud. Uncle Alfred picked him up and George McCrea helped.
They arrived at the top of the hill and turned around to watch the dog war in the sky take place.
“Look out!”
One of the enemy planes had been hit. It was smoking and on fire heading right at them. Eric was stunned and couldn’t move; his muscles were tight like wires.
Uncle Alfred pulled him away at the last second as the plane crashed into the ground and burst into flames.
“At least it’s not one of ours.”
“Look out, the tanks are coming.”
From the right flank the enemy tanks rolled toward the small group of men with guns blazing.
George’s arm was sheered right off. He fell down in obvious pain.
“Help me.”
Uncle Alfred and Eric picked George up and moved him along.
The tank attack was merciless.
George fell down again.
“Pick him up and I’ll stall them.”
Eric picked up George like a bag of wheat and threw him over his shoulder before he ran off. The shells exploded to his right and to his left as he carried the rather large man as best as he could without falling.
Uncle Alfred turned around and shot at the tanks, as did the handful of other men.
Suddenly a plane flew over and bombed a couple of the tanks. One was flipped over its back like a turtle. A second later it burst into flames.
“There’s protection over there.”
The small company of men headed for the line of trees.
“But the tanks.”
Uncle Alfred unleashed a grenade at one of the remaining tanks. It exploded but did very little damage.
Eric still carried George but was exhausted.
“I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
“It’s only a little further” encouraged Uncle Alfred.
Eric found a new energy and was about a hundred feet from getting an unconscious George to the foxhole.
“We can’t stay here long,” warned Uncle Alfred.
Two of the Allied planes moved across and bombed the advancing tanks with a barrage of artillery that shook the ground so hard it toppled Eric.
He stood up and tank fire grazed his leg. He fell down again and was almost afraid to look down.
“You’re okay.”
Eric’s left leg was bleeding but it was still intact. He picked up George and renewed the mission.
They were just at the foxhole when a new group of tanks moved across the field.
“More tanks!”
“Don’t worry, boy, they’re the good guys.”
The friendly tanks engaged the enemy tanks in a head to head battle that didn’t last very long. By the time it was over the few men in Uncle Alfred’s company who had survived the vicious onslaught were safe in the foxhole.
“You did real good boy.”
“Thanks. Is he going to be okay?”
“Well, we’ve stopped the bleeding. We need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. But we have to wait until the enemy is finished off.”
Another plane flew by and took out the last tank.
“They got ‘em,” screamed Eric.
“They did. We might be in a war and have to defeat the enemy, but someone’s husband, father, brother, uncle, cousin and friend was just killed. There’s no joy in that boy.”
Eric looked down and realized that his Uncle was right.
Suddenly, one of the tank personnel emerged from their damaged vehicle and rushed toward the foxhole with guns blazing.
Uncle Alfred shot and killed the guy but not before receiving a bullet in the neck.
“Oh, no. You can’t die.”
Uncle Alfred looked at him and smiled. “I’m not going to die boy but if I do can you tell my family that I died a hero?”
“What is your name?” Eric realized that he didn’t know the man’s name.
“My name is Private Alfred Sanderson.”
“Uncle Alfred.”
“I’m not your uncle boy. But thanks for thinking that way.
Suddenly,
