Parks lay quietly in the grass on the ground.
Christenson was lying behind him, neither of them made a sound, not even a breath.
Parks's eyes were fixed on the front, and in the cover of night, a group of figures swayed not far away, rustling through the grass, and even the cold, faint light of gun barrels could be seen reflecting in the moonlight.
These were small German squads, now spread throughout Normandy, searching for American paratroopers who had fallen from the sky, to eliminate them before they could gather.
Parks turned his head slightly and gestured to Christenson: three German soldiers.
Two Mauser P38 submachine guns.
They were walking directly towards them.
"What should we do?" Christenson's voice, though lowered, was trembling, indicating his nervousness.
Parks quietly pulled his head back, then retreated and whispered to Christenson: "Wait for my command.
I need your help, Christenson, let's take them down!"
"I know, I know!" Christenson nodded woodenly.
"You go to the woods on the left and hold them there with your pistol, I'll go around from the right and get behind them," Parks whispered.
This was a trick he often used before: attracting attention, then ambushing from behind.
Even if they were at a disadvantage in terms of weapons and equipment, they could often turn the tide and create miracles.
"Are you using this knife?" Christenson suddenly saw Parks pull out a paratrooper knife and couldn't help but be stunned; in his opinion, this was undoubtedly too dangerous!
Parks didn't explain, just nodded, then whispered to him: "Go!" because they saw the three figures getting closer and closer, and even faintly heard their voices.
Christenson crouched low, using the cover of the grass, slipped into the woods, and then leaned against a large tree.
He held his gun with both hands, resting them on his thighs.
His palms were sweaty, and his heart pounded rapidly.
Then he squinted, looking towards Parks, but he didn't see anyone; that patch of grass blocked his view.
"Damn it!" Christenson cursed under his breath.
If this was the case, he wouldn't be able to see Parks's gestures clearly.
The German were nearby.
Their voices grew louder and louder.
"Never mind!" Christenson encouraged himself, then raised his pistol, ready to ambush, but then heard the three German stop and discuss something together.
"Have we been discovered?" Christenson suddenly felt despair, and he looked again in the direction Parks had moved.
If he couldn't see him again, then he would go it alone, "Anyway, it's just death!" Thinking of this, his hands began to tremble.
As he glanced over, he saw Parks's signal—attack.
Christenson suddenly darted out from behind the tree and fired three shots at the three German.
The three German had just stopped; they were lighting cigarettes, with their heads down, completely unprepared.
"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" Three gunshots startled them, and they frantically dropped their cigarettes and dove into the grass, quickly hiding themselves.
Christenson had been too flustered just now, and all three shots missed.
Then he quickly hid behind the tree again, and immediately after, that tree was riddled with flying wood chips.
The German began to return fire.
Parks chose a very good time to attack, because the three German had stopped, and one of them was distributing cigarettes to each person, while the others gathered around to light them.
But Christenson wasted the opportunity.
Christenson had no chance at all; under the suppression of the submachine gun, he didn't even dare to stick his head out, while the other two German soldiers quietly flanked him, one from the left and one from the right.
The German soldiers' quality was indeed very good.
But they hadn't expected there to be another person behind them; they were distracted by Christenson.
When the two German soldiers flanked, Parks felt the opportunity had come.
He had already crept behind the German soldier who was directly firing a submachine gun at Christenson.
His excellent skills meant he wasn't discovered by that soldier, or perhaps that German soldier was also very flustered, seeing only what was in front of him and firing desperately.
"Click!" It was the crisp sound of the firing pin after an empty chamber; the German's magazine was empty.
He cursed under his breath, fumbled for a magazine from his ammunition belt, and was about to reload.
But then he suddenly felt a chill in his throat.
There was also some pain; he reached out to touch it, and then saw with horror that his hand was covered in blood.
He wanted to scream, but could only make dry, retching sounds of "heh, heh."
His throat had been cut.
"Now!" Parks shouted, "Right, Christenson!"
The two flanking German were startled to hear shouting from behind them and instinctively turned their heads.
Christenson heard the shout, he suddenly turned to his right, took a deep breath, and then pulled the Trigger on the German soldier who was already very close.
"Bang!" "Bang!"...
A series of bullets struck the German soldier's body, making "thump," "thump," "thump" sounds, followed by a short, gurgling moan from his throat.
The German soldier fell headfirst.
"Is that it?" Christenson had struck down the German, and then his mind went blank.
He had just fired, and killed a German devil.
He was completely without thought.
"Get down!" Parks yelled.
Christenson's whole body jolted, and he immediately reacted instinctively, realizing he was on a battlefield.
He frantically turned around, raising the gun in his hand, only to find that all the bullets in his pistol were gone.
He saw a dark muzzle raise and aim at his head.
Is it over?
Christenson looked desperately at the dark muzzle, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
"Bang!" went the gun.
Perhaps that German, seeing both his comrades were finished, was somewhat flustered, and coupled with Christenson's instinctive evasive movement upon hearing the gunshot, the bullet grazed his forehead.
A wave of heat scraped his forehead, causing pain.
"Swish!" A soft sound.
That German did not have a chance to fire a second shot; his hand, holding the gun, loosened, and the gun made a rustling sound in the grass.
Then he was seen covering his neck with both hands, staggering two steps forward, and falling headfirst into the grass.
A paratrooper knife was stuck in his neck!
"Ugh—" The German soldier made a dying sound, blood bubbling in his throat, like the sound of boiling water.
Coupled with extreme tension, Christenson couldn't help but retch.
"Christenson, do you want to die?" Parks completely missed Christenson's reaction; he was even angry.
"Think about it, exposing yourself completely to the German's gunfire—is this the result of two years of training?"
"I'm sorry!" Christenson was a bit embarrassed; after vomiting, he had come to his senses, "I messed up!"
"Alright, give me the pistol!" Parks searched the German soldier's body for an ammunition belt, then threw a Mauser 98K with the ammunition belt to Christenson, "Take it, German weapons.
We'll encounter many more along the way."
Christenson took it, then handed the pistol to Parks.
Parks searched the other German's body for his ammunition belt, then slung the Mauser over his back, carrying the submachine gun in his hand.
"We need to go.
Other German will be searching soon; we made too much noise just now!" Parks thoroughly searched the German soldiers' bodies, finding a few German banknotes and a few packs of cigarettes.
Christenson watched Parks rummaging through the German's belongings, and even the guy who had just been hit by Parks's flying knife wasn't quite dead yet, his body still twitching, like a dying frog, belly-up, and he felt another wave of nausea.
When he passed the German he had shot dead, he paused.
The German lay prone in the grass, as still as if he were sleeping!
"How does it feel to kill your first German devil?" Parks knew Christenson was surely uneasy after killing for the first time, so he quietly chatted with him along the way.
"A bit nervous!" Christenson answered truthfully, "And a bit nauseous."
This was indeed true; when Parks first killed someone, although he was better than him, that psychological hurdle always existed until he experienced too much later on, and then it got better.
"We need to get back to the rendezvous point as soon as possible.
We still have four hours now.
If we don't dare to go back before dawn, then we'll be waiting for the German to deal with us!" Parks walked, maintaining a distance from Christenson.
"Shh!" Parks suddenly made a fist, placing his index finger to his lips, silencing Christenson, who was about to speak.
Parks turned back and gestured to him, signaling him to hide.
Then he crouched low, slipped to the side, and in front was the backyard of a French farmhouse, piled high with haystacks.
Some faint sounds came from the grass beside the haystack.
Parks raised his hand to Christenson, signaling him to hold his gun and be alert, while he quietly approached the grass from the side.
A faint sound of crickets came from the grass.
Upon hearing it, Parks quickly took out his metal cricket signal device and responded twice, and then a figure emerged from the grass, whispering, "Lightning!"
"Thunder!" Christenson quickly replied.
At this moment, several figures darted out from the bushes.
The person leading them, upon seeing Parks, suppressed his voice in surprise and called out, "Parks?!"
It turned out to be Walter Gordon, and at this point, the other few people gathered around.
Parks recognized these three: soldier Tom Burks, John Eubanks, and Forrest Gu Si.
Now they had six people, forming a complete combat team, with Sergeant Major Parks as the team leader.
"I dropped my gun!" Gu Si seemed a bit dejected.
"Are your weapons still with you?" Parks asked in a low voice.
"Yes!" The others all nodded.
Parks nodded, then handed the MP38 submachine gun in his hand to Gu Si: "A German submachine gun, and it has bullets."
Just then, talking voices suddenly came from the farmhouse.
Parks quickly gestured to the others, signaling them to hide behind a haystack.
Two German soldiers came out of the front door of the farmhouse, looking around with their guns.
They seemed suspicious of the area behind the haystack, shouting something loudly with their guns raised, walking step by step towards the haystack.
Parks quickly gestured, and the few people quickly dispersed, leaving the haystack and hiding in the nearby bushes.
At this moment, the two German soldiers went around the haystack, looked around for a while, mumbled a few words, and then walked back.
Gordon raised the rifle in his hand, but saw Parks gesturing to him, then beckoning him over.
He quickly stopped and quietly crawled over, whispering, "Parks, there are German here, should we go around them?"
Parks looked at the farmhouse, then at Gordon: "Did we travel all the way from America across the ocean to England, and then take a damned two-hour plane ride to land in this godforsaken place, just to walk around when we see krauts?
Gordon, since we're here, we have no choice."
"I understand!" Gordon nodded.
"Burks and I will go to the farmhouse; it seems to be a junction, and German have control of it.
I need to check it out specifically; perhaps we can occupy it.
I'll leave command here to you.
Burks and I will go together; wait for my order, and then you launch the attack!"
Parks looked at Gordon, "Are you confident?"
"Alright!" The battle was about to begin, and Gordon's palms were sweating as he clutched his gun.
Parks patted Burks' shoulder beside him: "Later, move with me.
We'll split up; you go around the haystack, along the back wall of the farmhouse to the fence, and meet me there.
I'll go directly through the farmhouse.
Understand?"
Burks quickly nodded, his tongue desperately licking his chapped lips.
"Go!" Parks suddenly rolled over, bent down, and stealthily crept forward like a cat.
Burks went around the haystack and also moved towards the fence.
It was clear he was terribly nervous; although it was a short distance, he was still breathing heavily.
Parks was already waiting for him by the fence, then he raised one hand above his head, bent his elbow, and placed his palm over the top of his head.
This was to have Burks cover him.
Burks nodded vigorously.
Parks had already rolled over, crossed the fence, and immediately rolled on the ground, hiding beside a large tree by the farmhouse wall.
Using the tree for cover, he got a general view of the farmhouse.
There were about ten German soldiers, including one Lieutenant.
The farmhouse had been converted into a fortress, and in front of it was a road junction.
The German had set up an MG42 machine gun in front of the farmhouse, and sandbags were piled around the machine gun as cover.
Parks quietly crept back near the fence and whispered to him, "Gather the rest of the brothers."
Then he opened the fence gate, and at this moment, Gordon and the other four also came over.
"Gordon, you take Gu Si and Christenson and guard behind the fence.
From here, you can see the German machine gun position; use grenades to take them out."
Parks began to give low-voiced orders, "Eubanks and Burks will rush out of the fence with me to draw out the German.
After Gordon takes out the machine gun, move along the wall of the farmhouse to converge with me, and we'll sandwich the drawn-out German from front and back, then we'll meet inside the farmhouse!"
"Let's do it!" Gordon nodded, then gestured to Gu Si and Christenson.
"Go!" Parks waved to Eubanks and Burks, and the three rushed out of the fence, opening fire on the two German soldiers who had just been patrolling and had come out of the farmhouse again.
"Thud!" "Thud!" ... The bullets made muffled sounds as they hit bodies, and the two German fell headfirst.
Then, shouts were heard from inside the farmhouse.
Three German soldiers ran towards the machine gun position, and several others desperately fired at Parks and his men.
Parks shouted, "Take cover!"
The three quickly lay down, and at this moment, Gordon and his two companions immediately rose, throwing three grenades towards the machine gun position.
Then the three quickly moved towards the farmhouse wall.
"Boom--" Three loud explosions, the MG42 machine gun hadn't even had time to fire before it was blown to pieces.
The three German who had rushed to the machine gun screamed as they fell to the ground, rolling and wailing.
As soon as the three left, the fence was riddled by the German.
But no one cared about the lingering fear; they ran desperately.
They knew that only by moving would they be harder for the German to hit.
As soon as they reached the wall, Parks' side opened fire, and the German were caught in a pincer movement; three fell in an instant.
The remaining two, seeing the unfavorable situation, one turned and fled back into the farmhouse, and the other dashed towards the main road in front of the farmhouse.
"Da da da!" A burst of bullets swept across the wall, then hit the German running towards the farmhouse; that person fell to the ground.
It was Gu Si sweeping with his submachine gun.
"Bang" "Bang" "Bang" At this moment, Burks raised his rifle and fired repeatedly at the German, but he was too nervous; he missed several shots in a row, and then he heard a "ding" as the magazine popped out.
"Damn it!" Burks cursed, frantically trying to change the magazine.
Then he heard a "bang" from beside him, and the German in front fell stiffly like a wooden stake by the roadside.
He turned his head to see that it was Parks who had fired.
"Hey, German, how does German-made bullet taste?" Gu Si, holding the MP38 submachine gun, used the barrel to flip over the bodies of the two German he had shot down.
Then he looked at Burks and chuckled.
Burks knew what he was laughing about and felt a bit awkward, so he said to Parks, "I'll go clear the inside of the house."
With that, he twisted his gun and walked towards the farmhouse door.
"Gu Si," Parks called out, "gather the German bodies and then destroy the machine gun here.
We need to quickly clean up the battlefield so other German don't come as reinforcements."
Parks couldn't stand Gu Si's triumphant look, making Burks feel deflated, so he gave him some work to keep him busy.
"Alright! As you say, you're the boss now!" Gu Si shrugged helplessly.
"Bang--" A gunshot rang out from inside the house.
Gu Si instinctively flinched, dropping the German body he was dragging.
"Burks, can you take care of your rifle?" he yelled loudly.
But Parks felt something was wrong; this wasn't the sound of Burks' M1 rifle, it was a German 98K.
He quickly rushed in, drawing his pistol; a German was running out.
Parks fired without hesitation, hitting the German in the head.
Blood splattered high and then splashed on the nearby wall.
He fell heavily like a sack of potatoes, making a loud thud.
His body convulsed, and it was clear he wouldn't survive.
"Burks!" Parks looked forward into the house; a person was lying on his back on the ground, legs spread, one hand on his leg, one hand raised by his head.
Beside him, an M1 rifle lay discarded, and there was a bloody hole in his head.
It was Burks, who had just gone inside to clear the battlefield.
His eyes were open, but they had lost their luster.
"He's dead!" Parks' voice was heavy.
"Oh—God!" Gu Si suddenly squatted down, his face pained.
Parks walked over and put a hand on Gu Si's shoulder: "It's not your fault."
"No, no!" Gu Si shook his head, his eyes a bit red and swollen, "I know, I mocked him just now.
If I hadn't, maybe he wouldn't have gone in.
I caused his death!"
"Alright, Gu Si, I told you it's not your fault!" Parks couldn't help but frown, "This is war! I also miscalculated one German."
Then he squatted down and carefully examined the face.
Although covered in blood, it was clear he was still very young.
His face still seemed to carry a hint of childishness.
He narrowed his eyes, then reached out and pulled off the dog tag hanging around his neck.
"Let's go!" Parks turned and walked out.
"Don't leave him here!" Gu Si suddenly stood up and faced Parks, almost pleadingly, "Don't leave him to the German, please!"
"Let's bury him under that tree!" Gordon came over at this moment, then called out to Christenson, "Give me a hand, help carry him out."
Parks didn't stop them; he knew this was their first time witnessing a comrade fall, and he could understand their feelings.
But what about later?
Later, perhaps he himself, or perhaps they, would be left exposed in the wilderness; who would care for whom?
In war.
The first death had already begun in Normandy, and the night of Normandy at this moment was like a monster devouring lives!