I wake up freezing lying on my back in the snow. My body shivers and I look up to an overcast sky. I look around me and see I am in a clearing of the woods. Snow falls creating a blanket of fog that encompass the area. It must be late afternoon for the light seems to be fading. Sharp burning pains envelops me, but the worst is in my right leg. I feel so weak, I raise my head to look and I am shocked for my right leg is missing. A mutilated bloody stump is all that remains. Past that is a trail of blood from where I dragged my self these ten yards. There I see her, my beloved home of these last few months, Widow Scorned, burning brightly. The flames and smoke rise high from the tank and I hear the popping and crackling of the ammunition. It sits there with no sign of life and just burns. Then I realized I had blacked out, all of it was a nightmare.
Then I remembered how I got here. When Captain Davis had ordered us out of the tree line to be the first to test for an ambush. We had barely left the tree line when I heard a loud crack like distant thunder. The tank recoiled violently as a 76mm shell slammed in to our frontal plate armour. The sounds of metal ripping was deafening. It passed straight through us sending shrapnel everywhere. The shrapnel pinged ricocheting of the walls of our tank. Sammy was killed instantly, The shell pass through the top of this head bursting it like a melon. Blood and brain matter spattered the tank's inside.
Lucky fared no better for the shell passed through his legs as spiraling shrapnel peppered him. He took massive chunks of the speeding metal that passed clean through him. He slumped over the gun controls, blood spewing from him. I remember hearing him gasping and wheezing for air.
A large chuck of fragmented metal sliced through my leg cutting it clean off below the knee. I fell back in to my seat, screaming and crying out trying to stop the bleeding. I could see blood gushing from my leg and I could see the mutilated bone. What was worse was seeing my amputated lower leg standing still in place on the turret floor.
I remembered how I screamed the order to abandon the tank when a second shell slammed into our frontal plate, this time in the center left beside Daunte. The tank rocked violently. Metal ripping sounded again. Fragments of jagged metal sliced through Daunte's neck, but not enough to decapitate him. Blood poured from his wound as he slumped forward.
Turney standing beside me had his arm almost slashed away by the jagged metal pieces. His limp arm had been only held together by pieces of muscle and tendons, his white bones clearly visible. He fell back on the turret floor and sat against the wall.The shrapnel also pierced his lung and I heard him struggling for breath.
His eyes looked up to me almost pleading for any aid. His body is peppered with shrapnel and bleeds from the many wounds. I saw his eyes roll back into his head and I saw his breath leave him.
I am the sole survivor of a steel coffin and I shall not die here, I determined. With my good leg, I raised and struggled to pull myself out of the tank hatch. I rolled down the side of the turret and fell on my back in the cold white snow. My back ached with pain and the wind was knocked out of me. I turned over and found that my side was bleeding heavily from several wounds in my abdomen.
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I dragged myself through the heat of battle. The sounds of gunfire echoed in the forest as red and green tracers flew overhead of me. The booms of tank guns and the smell of smoke filled the air. I look back just enough to see my beloved tank get struck again with another tank shell. This one rocked the vehicle, metal screeching, and in an instant the tank bursted in to an inferno from the detonated ammo racks. I could feel the heat searing my body. At that moment I fully realized I had failed my men. I swore to bring them home and I failed them. As my punishment, I was the sole survivor to live with guilt of broken promises. But I must not die here, I thought. I thought if I could crawl back to friendly lines there maybe a chance of being saved. As I crawled and the hellfire of battle sung around me, my strength left me and I felt weak from the blood loss. I could go no longer, my body failed me. I turned over and consigned my self to my fate. I remembered closing my eyes and bracing for death.
My death was obviously not to be so for still I live. I see a figure takes shape from the winter storm. As he approaches I notice he gives off a white glow but that is not the only strange thing about him for he wears armor and not a uniform. As he approaches he takes a more distinct shape that looks so out of place for this modern war. I observe that he wears sandals on his feet, has an a leather combat skirt armed with a sword and scabbard. He wears a metal chest piece that covers his torso and is adorned with images of golden lions. He wears a metal helmet with a large sideways plume of red and white. He looks so familiar. Wait, he looks like a roman centurion from the history pictures I saw as a child. But why is he here? Why would a man dress like that in this war? He seems ridiculous.
He stands over me and flashes a confident smile. "Who are you?" I ask propping myself up weakly. "I am the Angel of Fallen Soldiers." He says calmly, "I take this form before you so you may better recognize me as among one of your great heros. I have come to the aid of generals and common men. Almighty God has sent me to guide you into his paradise." "Does this mean I am dying?" I ask. The mysterious being answers, "You have lead your men gallantly through the trials of combat. But like all good soldiers, your service must come to an end." " But...but I don't want to die, I have a family." I cry. He replies, " And they will be well taken care of and this decision was not made by me. Be not afraid though, the almighty seeks an audience you and he is well pleased. "What about my crew?" I ask. His response is, "The other angels are assisting your men as we speak." "Why did they have to die such a violent death?" I yell, "Why could they not die peacefully?" He snaps at me, "The Lord cares not in for which the condition they come for even though their bodies are broken, their soul remains pure and untarnished. They will stand trial before God and be judged. But fear not for the men in your company were of good quality and they may be easily forgiven. It is then when they shall enter the Lord's kingdom." I lay their awestruck fearing I just angered the spirit but he speaks calmly, " I must leave you for your time is at hand. I will greet you at the gates my friend." And with that the figure dissipates in to the snowy fog.
I am puzzled thinking about this out of place man who claims to be the harbinger of my death. Surely it was a hallucination, maybe I'm delirious. Suddenly a figure emerges from the snowy fog. As he comes closer I see he has an SS german uniform. I lay helplessly, maybe that wasn't a hallucination.
The figure raises his rifle to me, I am paralyzed with fear. He gives a sinister grin and I close my eyes bracing myself for whats to come. A bang sounds and sharp pain envelopes my chest. And then a sudden peace, everything is white.
End.