The sun begins to rise over the horizon, shining its sunlight on the cathedral. The walls have been design beautifully by French engineers with its colors and bricks placement. It stood there standing proud as it has been unaffected by the war until blood trickled down from the top where the spires are located.

A paratrooper lay horizontally in a bend arc with the tip of the spire pierced through his stomach. His hands are on either side of the spire, now rest heavily on his body as the paratrooper's mouth is gaped open in a silent scream, with his eyes rolled to the back of his eyes.

His blood continues to flow down like a fountain, covering the spire with long—streaked of dark red. The paratrooper is nothing more than a part of the spire as paratroopers that are alive are on the ground, doing about their business while trying not to look at the overhead man.

Standing on the side, silently watching the men is Master Sergeant Ike Farberry. A 36 years old native from Queens, New York, Farberry has a short crop black hair, a hardened face and stone eyes, yet he is considered the best in his company of the 502nd. Although he is soft under that look, he is determined to make his men the soldiers that they are cut out to be.

Farberry walked down the street a bit and sat down on a crate right next to a sandbag emplacement. He took off his helmet, rubbed his eyes and stared down into a photo of his wife that is neatly secured in his helmet. With her blond hair and gorgeous looks, Farberry is considered himself a lucky man for having Catherine. At least he has something to look forward to once he gets back home….

"Sergeant?"

Farberry looks up to see another paratrooper looking at him. He gave the nod. "Sergeant Vanilli"

"We finished setting up the roadblock and secured a hamlet just west of here like you ask. We're almost done building the emplacement for the 30."

"Good," Farberry said as he put his helmet back on. As he was fastening his straps, he said to Vacilli. "Have we got words with other units yet?"

Vanilli shook his head. "No, sir. The radio is bad enough to even send out a single message, let alone a transmission."

Farberry listened as he pondered his thoughts. If they have to fight and hold off the Germans to keep this town secure, then that's what they'll have to do.

Foucarville is one of many towns that leads to Carentan with an extensive road running through it. If the boys from the beaches can get up here sooner, that'll be great. However, for now, holding the town is the priority at the moment.

Vanilli then looks at the cathedral. 'When do you think we'll get the poor bastard down?"

"We can't do anything for a dead man. I already lost two of my men trying to get him down to snipers. I'm not about to lose more." Farberry replied with a sigh. "We'll have to leave him up there until we get reinforcement, which I doubt we'll have any time soon."

He then stood up, sling his M-1 carbine over his shoulder and proceeds to walk, followed by Vanilli.

"There's only a small number of us Sergeant, and very few non-coms." Both men stop at the intersection and peer at the distance. Farberry continues, "The only option we have is to hold and relieve for a linkup."

They were soon joined by three more paratroopers who just recently joined the small holding force.

"Sir." Said the corporal, who saluted Farberry. "We were told to report to you. It seems like you need an extra helping hand."

"Thanks for joining us, Corporal." Farberry returned the salute. "You boys drop your packs here and settle down somewhere. We'll not be leaving anytime soon."

Farberry watches them walk away and thought to himself, Sooner or later, the Germans will come.

He looks up and sees the sun climbing higher into the overcast sky. He then heard vehicles approaching in the distance.

"Holy shit, what do you think happened here?"

Baker, Hartsock, Allen, and Garnett stood on the road that leads into Foucarville. Before them, dead American soldiers' lay scattered on the street. Spent shell casings littered the ground, and a truck continues to burn on the crossroad not far from them.

"What do you think killed all of these people?" said Garnett, looking at the nearest dead body.

Baker shook his head. "We took this town. This was supposed to be a link up."

"Guess the Krauts don't care much for 'supposed to.'" Allen replied in a quiet tone.

The four soldiers continue to walk silently, making sure they don't step on the bodies. They noticed that some of the men were part of their regiment with a couple more from both the five-oh-first and five-oh-sixth.

"Jesus." Hartsock sighed, looking at mangled bodies of men. All seems to be killed by some explosives.

"Let's get off this road," Baker said, and he pointed at a large house in the middle of a plaza. "We'll assess from there."

They made their way over to the house and gathered up at the door.

Baker said to Hartsock. "On three, kick in the door."

Hartsock nodded and braced himself as Baker counted, "One."

Hartsock kicked in the door and rushed in, bringing up his BAR as he checks the room.

Baker followed him in. "Whatever happened to three?"

"Same thing that happened to two," Hartsock replied as he walks further into the room. "We're clear in here."

Outside, Allen and Garnett are providing rear guard, smoking their cigarettes to quell the emotions they've gathered from seeing their fellow dead soldiers.

Garnett noticed Allen re-fixing the bandage on his shoulder where he's been shot back at the barracks. "How's the arm, Allen?"

"Hurtin' and bleedin'," Allen says as he finished fixing his bandage and nodded towards Garnett bandaged hand. "Your hand okay from that thorn bush?" he got up to walk inside before adding, "I mean, mine was just a measly gunshot."

Garnett holds up his bandaged hand. "Allen, those were very sharp thorns." And followed him inside.

Baker and Hartsock proceed to walk into another room when they are met by a man with his back to an open door, his face darkened by the sunlight pouring in from behind. He also seems to be standing next to a dead body lying in front of the door.

"Flash."

Hartsock quickly brought up his BAR and aimed at the man, not after when Baker put his hand on Hartsock's gun and brought it down.

"Thunder. Red, don't shoot! Put your damn rifle down."

Baker's face is mixed with emotions at the man standing before them. He thought he'd never see him again, but here he is.

"It's Corrion."

One look at Corrion indicated that something terrible had happened here. His uniform and face are caked in mud, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Baker walked up to Corrion and put both hands on his shoulder to steady him. "Are you hurt? Sam, are you okay?"

Corrion looked up and stared at the four men before replying with a pained voice. "You shouldn't have come here."

Allen and Garnett stared back at Corrion with wide-eyes and Hartsock look at him with a stone expression.

Baker said to Corrion. "Slow down Sam. Can you tell us what happened here?"

"Matt, don't rush him," Hartsock said right next to him. "Sam had just been through some tough shit. Let's go easy on him."

They look at Corrion who now hung his head down. When he brought it back up, Corrion's face now streamed in tears.

"It…it all happened fast." He said as he slowly reached for his Thompson that is lying against the wall behind him. "We were in control and then—it was like a car crash or something…"

"I geared down when we felt safe. I wasn't near my tommy when they showed up. The other soldiers were dying left and right all around me at the beginning. The medics went first so you can use your imagination…"

Bullets kicked up dirt around Corrion as he rushed into the open to his Tommy that is laying on top of a crate. He picked it up and rushed back to where other American soldiers are at, taking cover behind low-stone walls facing the direction where the Germans are attacking from.

The Germans are piling out from the backbed of three trucks right on the intersection.

Corrion took cover behind a wall and noticed a soldier near him is struggling to move. Corrion grabbed him and saw a gaping hole on the man chest.

"Hey hey! You're going to be fine!" Corrion assured the man as he moved the man hands to the wound, using the hands to press against it.

He's not going to make it, Corrion thoughts as bullets continue to zip overhead, men screaming all around him.

Nearby, Sergeant Farberry is screaming at a group of huddled soldiers, trying desperately to move them and get them into the fight.

"We ain't in Minnesota and we ain't scared little kids! Now get out there and fire your rifle at those bastards before I shoot you myself!"

Once he got them moving, Farberry ran to a side of a house where a bazooka man is hiding at. Chips of stone explode off the wall when Farberry reached the man and took cover. Farberry looked at him and realized he's a kid, probably 18 or 19.

The kid is showing signs of fears as he clutched his bazooka on his arms.

"Look at me son!" Farberry calmly said to the kid. "What is your name?"

The kid replied in a panicky voice. "Oh god! We're all gonna die! Travers is dead!"

"Hey! We are not going to die here. Your name?"

The kid stuttered. "Swinebank….Joseph Swinebank."

"Joe. Can I call you Joe?" Farberry said as he grabbed the kid by the shoulder and pointed out where the trucks are at. "I need a bazooka round put into those trucks. Can you help me?"

The kid nodded nervously as he mustered up his courage. "I—I think so. Yeah."

Farberry patted the kid on the shoulder. "Great. I'll be close by, son."

Farberry looks and assesses the situation: the Germans took them by surprise and are now attempting to flank their positions. There are not many of the paratroopers left either. Vanilli was one of the first three soldiers that were gunned down when those trucks came by, and they quickly killed all the medics. Many of the boys tried to escape but were killed before they could get out of there. The survivors are being pinned down as the Germans suppressed them with machine guns and rifles.

Farberry waited a moment and made a run for it, aiming for a wall where a small number of soldiers are at. He reached the wall when another soldier fell backward, his head caught a bullet. Farberry stopped next to the corporal that joined them earlier.

"Farberry."

"Corrion."

"Pleasure." They shook hands and kept their heads down as more bullets flew overhead.

Farberry then shouted at Corrion, "We're down to the remains of three squads, plus wherever riff-raff dropped around here!"

"At this rate, we'll be out of ammo in thirty minutes, and we're not hitting anything! We should make our move before it doesn't matter anymore!"

Corrion fired over the wall, hitting a German soldier that is rushing their position.

The Americans continue to fire when a bazooka round shoots by and hit one of the trucks, setting it on fire.

"Well shit, the kid pulled it off," Farberry said in amazement and turn to Corrion. "Corporal Corrion. We're getting out of here. We group them up, and we move towards that house over there."

Corrion nodded. "Alright. I'll provide some suppressing fire. Better make it quick."

"No. I'll do it. You will lead the boys out in single file."

"Got it."

Farberry then moved positions along the stone wall and grabbed a huddled soldier by the collar. "Everyone fights, nobody quits! Now fire your damn weapon, soldier!"

There are about four paratroopers left, including Farberry and Corrion, as they continue to fire back at the German onslaught. Now they need, or they'll lose the chance to fight again.

Farberry stood up behind cover and yelled at the men. "Alright, boys. Let's get out of here!"

They got up and started falling back in single file with Corrion's in the lead and Farberry the last in line.

As they were starting to move down the street, Farberry kept firing his carbine when he heard an unmistakable noise of a grenade hitting the ground. He quickly turns around and saw a German stick grenade landed in the middle of their line.

Before Farberry could scream out a warning, the grenade explodes, killing everyone except Farberry and Corrion.

The concussion of the blast sent Farberry to the ground, ears ringing. He got back up to his knees and look at the mangled bodies of what once were his men…

Someone grabbed Farberry by the shoulder and shouted at him, although he could only hear it faintly.

"Fire your weapon, Farberry!"

Farberry searched for the sound of the voice and realized it was Corrion, firing his weapon with one hand while the other gripped around Farberry's shoulder.

They made it to the side of a house and took cover. Farberry's hearings are starting to return to full volume, once again filling his world with gunfire and explosions. Farberry noticed Joe the bazooka man sitting near the corner, not moving. Farberry went to check on him and saw that half of Joe's face is missing.

He knew the kid isn't going to make it, but at least he did it.

While Farberry looks around and assesses their situation, Corrion is standing near the edge of the corner, reloading his weapon. "We need a plan, Farberry."

Farberry stood up next to him. "Corrion, listen to me."

Nearby, they can hear the shuffle of German soldiers approaching their positions.

"There's a horse trough on the other side of this building. It's in the backyard. You get in that mud and don't come up for anything."

Corrion replied with a nod. "What about you?"

Farberry didn't answer. There's no way he could get out of this. At least all he could do is save one man left so he could tell what happens to them.

"Go!" Farberry said, and Corrion took off through the street. He went around the building and jumped into the trough that Farberry indicated. The muds swallowed him wholly, and the stench gagged him, yet he stays underneath and out of sights as German soldiers passed by overhead.

Farberry spotted a house that he could get to on the other side of the street. If he could make it, then he can escape alive.

Farberry felt his fears rising inside him. Calm down, Ike, calm down!

Farberry took a deep breath. Just think about Catherine

He pictured his wife, how she is so beautiful and remembered the first time they made love under the night sky…

A paratrooper near Farberry was shot in the neck and fell to the ground, choking in his blood.

Time to go. Farberry rushed out into the street under fire, grabbed the downed soldier by the webbing belt and dragged him to the house that he was aiming for.

Once you're inside the house, it's a quick shot to the other side. You can do this.

He didn't realize that he was dragging a now-lifeless body, but he kept going.

You can do this Ike. You'll see her again.

Farberry start kicking the door of the house. On his third attempt, he finally got it open.

You'll see Cather—

WHAP

A bullet entered through the back of Farberry head and exited through his mouth. Farberry fell into the floor of the house, knocking his helmet off and the picture of Catherine. Now in the pool of blood…

"It's just me. I'm the only one that made it out." Corrion finished with a sigh. "I just can't believe what just happens."

The four other paratroopers were silent the entire time with sorrow on their faces. Allen and Garnett continue to smoke their cigarettes as Baker has his eyes on the floor.

Hartsock then readied his BAR as he gritted his teeth. "We'll get `em, Sam. We'll make them pay."

"I know we will. We have to." Corrion reaches behind him to pick up his Thompson. Before he could exit through the doorway, he looked behind him and said to them. "Oh and watch your step."

He stepped over the lifeless body of Master Sergeant Ike Farberry and went outside, soon followed by his squad.

Somewhere in New York at that very moment, a young woman won't know that the love of her life won't be coming home. However, she'll understand the sacrifice he made to make the world free.