Angels

June 6, 1944

, Normandy, Northern France.

Some say rain is God's cry... Whether in poetic fervor, in jest, or in complete seriousness, they attribute the role of heavenly tears to ordinary raindrops.

It poured down in buckets that day.

Heaven had been mourning us since we set sail from the British ports of Southampton.

If I had known what awaited us in the coming days, I would have wept with it.

Around six in the morning, a disquieting whistle sounded aboard the cruiser USS Destiny. The time had come. After a moment of chaotic running and chaotic shouting, we were packed into elongated landing craft, more like sardine cans than ordinary cargo vessels. Final orders, final words of comfort from the soldiers of the support group, and we were off. The cramped, claustrophobic cylinders unmoored from their mother ships with a metallic groan and headed for the coast.

The barges moved toward shore at lightning speed, cutting through the foaming surface of the sea—far faster than any of us could have hoped. The closer we got to the wet sand of the French beach, the more voices joined in the prayer echoing off the cold walls of the speeding barge.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing... He lets me lie down in green pastures, leads me beside the waters where I can rest, he refreshes my soul, he leads me in the right paths, for his name's sake, though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me."

Kid had just vomited. Poor boy. He'd only finished basic training a month ago, and those idiots at headquarters were sending him in the first wave of the assault... Captain Gennarro didn't even try to hide the obvious: we had the hardest job, our piece of the pie had the most seeds.

"Remember," the captain's bass voice snapped me out of my reverie. Standing at the rear of the barge, a powerful man with a square, stubbly jaw nervously shook his rain-snuffed cigar. "Don't huddle together: a few huddled together make a great target, but one is a waste of ammunition. Be careful not to sand your weapons and cover the backs of your comrades who will be pushing closer to the Germans..."

A powerful wave suddenly lashed the side of our barge... Good. A cold shower was in order. I had to stay sober... In a few moments, I would be thrown onto the beaches of Normandy, one of thousands of soldiers storming the German fortifications... Meanwhile, my thoughts were swirling around my childhood, my mother, my home... They were far away. At just such a moment, I had to think...

Damn!

The barge next to me exploded in a blaze of fire!

Metal fragments and pieces of human flesh flew everywhere..."

Oh God... But... I knew them...

It was Tom's barge... Tommi, my friend from university... Is he dead?

No, no, this couldn't be happening.

German artillery shells began to whizz around us. Every now and then, a stray salvo would explode centimeters from our barge, drenching us in water heated from the explosion...

God, I beg you, let me survive this.

The rain fell steadily.

The rattle of drops hitting the metal floor of our little ship slowly began to mix with another sound:

the rattle of machine guns.

I think we're getting closer.

Christ, what am I doing here?! I'm an English writer, not a soldier! I should be holding a pen, not a rifle! My goal is words, prose, content, not killing!

With every meter that brought us closer to shore, I felt my legs give way beneath me. The rattle of rifle fire from the distance turned into an almost constant roar of gunfire. The Germans' bullets crashed against the barge's side like furious, charging animals eager to tear us apart... A stray struck the edge of the ramp, ricocheted off, and hurtled toward the rear...

It went straight through the barge operator's throat...

"Medic!" shouted Captain Gennarro, leaping to the boat's controls... If it weren't for his quick reaction, we would have rammed the barge on the starboard side... "Medic!"

Warner pushed through the panicking ranks and ran toward the operator, choking on his own blood. I hadn't even noticed he was a medic before... The red cross on his helmet had somehow escaped my notice...

"Hold on!" he roared at the man hit, trying to stem the gushing wound. "It'll be alright! You'll see! You'll pull through!"

For a moment, I even believed it... It wasn't until Warner's profuse curse brought me back to earth, as the cameraman began to shake in death convulsions. The poor thing bled to death before we even reached shore...

One of the guys burst into tears as the barge was rocked by the shockwave from the explosion right next to our side... We were helpless, locked in a cramped steel coffin, carrying us to our own funeral.

"30 seconds!" roared Gennarro, trying to keep the boat on course despite the raging German artillery fire. "Step away from the ramp!"

It was the longest 30 seconds of my life.

As soon as it was over... I regretted not having used that time to pray.

The moment we lowered the ramp, a burst of German heavy machine gun fire cut down the first two ranks. Without thinking, inspired by a sudden surge of self-preservation, I rushed forward. In the barge, we were like sitting ducks waiting to be shot. Our only hope was to reach the anti-tank barriers scattered across the beach and hide behind the metallic X-shaped obstacles...

My head was completely blank...

I was screaming something... I don't know what...

I started running forward, deafened by the methodical bursts of German rifle fire whistling past my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Warner, running right behind me, being cut down standing up. I didn't have time to think about it. All around me was an orchestra of human screams and the roar of gunfire... I rushed to the nearest barrier...

Only when I leaped towards it and felt it separate me from the hail of German bullets did thoughts and feelings return to my empty head... I fell to my knees and began to weep bitterly. Tears slowly flowed in trickles, which soon became small rivulets, mingling with the raindrops on my face... Leaning back against the cold, rusted metal, I stared at the sky...

It was still pouring.

I wanted to grab my rifle and charge forward, towards the Germans... But I couldn't. Fear paralyzed me completely... I felt helpless, furious, and terrified all at once... Every muscle in my body was tense to the limit... And I sobbed. My eyes were watering, mourning the bodies of my comrades buried in the wet sand...

The wet sand slowly began to turn crimson.

The scent of the sea breeze turned into the stench of fresh blood...

I felt like vomiting.

Suddenly I saw him running towards me...

Kid, that's what everyone called him.

God only knows what his real name was... He was a rather handsome young man, full of enthusiasm and willingness, always kind and obliging... Eighteen years old.

But at that moment, terror was etched on his face—just like mine. I saw his fear-filled eyes very clearly, even though he was still quite a distance away, weaving between the craters of artillery fire and the bodies of our comrades...

I saw them clearly as he ran towards me.

I saw them also as a burst of German machine guns ripped open his liver.

His hot intestine shot into the air... He fell to the ground with a silent scream.

I couldn't take it anymore.

Roaring like a wounded bear, I grabbed my weapon and ran along the beach, rushing towards the German defense positions. All around me, our men were falling like flies... I didn't have time to think about it at the time, but the fact that the Germans couldn't hit me was a miracle...

"Look out!" a bass cry suddenly rang out behind me.

I felt hands pushing me forward... Before I fell, a hot gust of air carried me even higher... I glided a few meters, then, with a gash in my head and burned legs, I landed facedown in the sand...

The impact with the ground was hard enough to lose all contact with reality... Suddenly, silence reigned... There were no more bangs, no whistling bullets, no screams of the wounded, no gurgling of the dying... I turned my head awkwardly, searching for the hands that had pushed me away from the flames of the explosion... I couldn't get up, but it wasn't hard for me to find my savior with my eyes...

The charred corpse of Captain Gennarr was still smoldering at the bottom of a small crater... And above him... A figure towered... All in white, illuminated, bright...

An angel, I thought, drowning in daze.

The bright creature illuminated everything around with its very face... A face both beautiful and imperceptible, hidden behind a shroud of light... White wings fluttered calmly, as if in all their majesty they ignored the German bullets whizzing by... The angelic being leaned over Gennarr, grasping him in her delicate, beautiful hand and pulling him up...

However, she didn't lift the captain's charred corpse, but HIM, the real "him"...

Then I did something irrational.

I want to kidnap him, flashed through my dazed mind.

Dictated by a dark voice somewhere within, I didn't wait a moment longer... I

raised the rifle to my eye...

I aimed, pulled the trigger... I fired...

The white creature screeched in agony as the bullet pierced its heart... Yet nothing supernatural emerged from beneath the white velvet robe... Blood gushed...

Blood.

I killed her – it suddenly echoed in my thoughts as tears filled my eyes – I killed her…

I fell to my knees, sobbing terribly… The bullets whistling around me no longer mattered to me, the fascists carrying out the massacre no longer mattered, not even my dying comrades in arms mattered… For a few seconds I saw the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my life and… I shot her.

I don't know by what miracle I survived the landing. I woke up in a field hospital two days later... None of the survivors could confirm my words... I was sent for psychiatric examination, then to a facility... But hypnosis didn't help, nor did long conversations, witchcraft, or medication... To everyone's surprise, none of the psychiatrists could find the hidden untruth in my words...

I killed an angel.

Yes, I'm sure of it...

Since that fateful day, I've lived with a heavy burden... With great pain...

The sky is pouring rain again...

Just like that day...

And I cry with him...