The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 9

He had yet to stop glaring at me.
I could feel his dark eyes even with me being on the other side of the tank from him. Turner was positioned slightly in the glare-down, however, and so I felt like his shoulder took half of the force.
Turner had decided to keep me with them for reasons he hadn't explained. Thus, I was sitting on the left side of a tank, riding towards the possibility of my death. The boys were one tank ahead of us, chatting away, while we followed, our ride strangely silent.
I had so many questions and comments to put out. The first, and possibly the heaviest on my mind, was about Pierson. Why did he seem to have so much resentment towards me? I'd wrapped my hair into a tight bun using an extra strip of leather, making my long dark hair less obvious, I'd barely said a word since setting off, and I wasn't in his personal space. What the hell was the matter with him?
Or maybe it wasn't me. Perhaps Turner's actions had pissed him off so he was taking it out on myself. Or perhaps he was just so dang excited to have me going with them he didn't know how to show it. Maybe his dark scowl was his smile.
"We're doing a lot of damage," I looked at a burnt ditch of bodies and machinery, all of which were German.
"We're pushing through," Turner replied curtly.
"How long have you been stationed back there?"
"Over a month."
That meant the boys hadn't seen practically anything yet. They hadn't seen the more horrific sides to the war. I hadn't either, except maybe on paper or through photographs. I had yet to see the goriness those images perceived the war to be, except maybe when Zussman and Daniels had saved me...
"Our attacks are doing a damn fine job!" someone shouted from the boys' tank ahead.
I looked down and sighed. "Not every death is a good death."
"What do you mean by that?" someone on our tank questioned, a man who was sitting directly in front of me.
"Um," I cleared my throat, "not all of these Germans are bad."
"Hmpf," Pierson grunted. "Anyone fighting as a Kraut is bad."
"Some don't have a choice," I quickly reeled back. "At least, I don't think so. Just look at our own men...not all of them chose to be here, but pride has drawn them to be."
"Pride?" Pierson snorted. "Pride has nothing to do with-"
"Look out!"
From ahead, German aircraft dove upon the train of tanks, hitting the one in front of the group. I gripped the sides of the tank, prepared to leap off the side in case another attack came. Turner and Pierson already seemed to be doing such.
"German Stukas! Get away from the tanks!"
To Turner's command, I slid off the side of the tank. The ground beneath me looked solid, yet it mushed slightly beneath my boots as I ran after the platoon. Other men rallied with the platoon, not staying with the tanks as they'd been ordered.
More, yet smaller, fire came from the sky again as I ran for Turner. The dirt from the impact of the rockets against the ground struck the backs of my calves as I made it to a form of safety.
"We have to protect our Shermans," Turner commanded, completely calm compared to my anxious heartbeat. "There's flak fire in the distance. We're going to take one of those AA guns and bring down those Stukas."
Ahead were barns, smoke billowing from behind them. I eyed the open breezeways, seeing men run into the opening. I opened my mouth to say something, but Pierson beat me to it.
"MGs in the barn!"
Turner quickly reacted. "Shit...everyone down!"
I didn't know how much lower I could crouch. My knees and thighs were aching from the position and my wound...it was a searing pain that made my eyes water at the corner.
"I need teams to flank both the left and the right sides!" Turner ordered the large group of soldiers.
Men split, shooting at the MGs and keeping to cover as they could. I braced to go after Zussman to the right, yet there was a heavy hand on my shoulder. I looked to Turner.
"You don't have any weapons. You stay behind the line."
"Give me a weapon," I told him firmly, narrowing my determined gaze. "I'll stay behind, but I need to be able to defend myself."
He looked entirely reluctant. It was a battle I wouldn't win this time around. Knowing that, I moved away from him, closer to the bank. I averted my gaze to the men moving up.
"Right."
Turner said nothing as he pressed to the right. I followed, keeping an eye on our sides. All it would take is a hidden Nazi to pop out and hit me with even one bullet in the right place and I'd be dead. At this point, with where we were, it wouldn't matter where I got hit.
Surely Pierson would just off you anyways.
If I was lagging behind or causing the focus to shift to me, I'm sure someone would end it. It wouldn't surprise me if it was Pierson who would be the one.
"Ava," Zussman found me, his eyes tracing over my crouched form. "Stay put right there behind the hay bales. I'll tell you when it's clear."
I absolutely hated the fact that I was dependent on them. I had no weapon, unless one counted a needle or two. Or stitching sting. I was stuck to sitting behind cover like a little, helpless child.
My eyes traveled over to where a fallen German soldier was splayed out against the ground. Blood soaked into the dirt around him, coming from his head. I looked at the gun still in his limp grip. How easy it would be to pick it up and go join the fighting men right around the corner.
You don't know how to use it.
I had a self-defense background. That was without those powerful weapons. I had also hunted with my father in my younger years--more than six years ago had been the most recent time. And those guns also weren't the same as the one in front of me. Most likely similar concepts, just different. I wasn't about to try it in this environment either.
That made me confused over why Turner had brought me with them. If there was another wave to go over bodies and double check there weren't any alive, why not send me with them? I'd have more chances to help the wounded, though saving their lives would be less likely depending on the wound, and I wouldn't need a weapon.
Why bring me if I wasn't going to be a help at all?
"Avaline!" Zussman called and I broke from my thoughts, peeking around the hay bales into the broken-down, old-fashioned barn.
He stood by a doorway, facing the other way. I jogged across the small courtyard into the barn, halting next to him. A few men were reloading, but their attentions were focused on Turner.
"Push into the fields," Turner ordered. "We need to rally with our tanks."
I huddled up against the inside of the barn, peeking out at the plethora of enemies firing upon the group. Everyone pushed past me, filing out into the field with tall piles of hay sporadically standing. Aiello crouched adjacent from me, reloading before he left to attack as well.
His brown eyes searched mine, found the desire I had to fight, and then narrowed. His gaze shifted to a fallen gun nearby and then he shook his head. When his orbs found mine again, they were back to normal. He simply dipped his head and then continued out.
I, once again, waited for them to clear the field before I could push forwards. I kept my gaze focused at the men furthest away. Once they reached the top part of the slanted hill, they would have cleared the meadow. I could run after them when that time came.
"Push forwards!" Turner announced.
I started to gradually move forwards, sticking to cover when I could. As the group started rounding the top of the field, I ran to catch up more. A thick cover of bushes blocked me from view of even more German forces.
The way down was a sort of ravine, without the nasty sides of earth. Trees heavily wooded it as American forces pressed the German back, almost making it confusing to watch who was who.
"There's the flak gun!" Pierson announced, reloading as he pushed forwards.
I followed suit once more, eyeing the still wiggling German. Some had surrendered, being taken hostage by other of the large group of Americans. They watched me as I followed, curious as to why an American soldier would be further behind and without a weapon.
"Take that AA gun behind that tree line!" Turner was ordering Daniels around.
I held onto my helmet as I dove behind a pile of debris. A rocket from a Stuka thundered right where I had been, creating a cloud of dust and ash. Stiles was on my right, watching me gain composure. We met gazes.
"You're okay?"
I could only manage a nod.
"Get on that flak gun!" Turner was ordering Daniels.
Stiles ran to catch up and I followed. Pierson eyed both of us, narrowing his eyes to a glare upon my arrival. I crouched up against the nearby sandbags as Daniels began to shoot at the Stukas.
Aiello sat back next to me, thankful for the short break as Daniels took down Stukas upon the spotting of the rest of the platoon. I eyed a cut on his forearm. It didn't seem deep, but any cut could become deadly upon infection, especially out and about.
"It's small. Not worth mentioning," he answered my thoughts.
"Keep an eye on it," I replied.
"Will do."
"Skies are clear!" Turner called out and Daniels gradually exited the AA gun.
To a deep rumbling sound to our left, Aiello and I braced. Zussman stepped up next to me, squinting his eyes. "It's Perez."
The man who was with the other two tanks of our original group. I hadn't personally met him, yet the boys seemed to be respectful of the tank driver.
Perez popped out of the hatch, looking directly for Turner. "The holdouts are dug in with Paks up ahead. Gotta clean 'em out."
Turner was quick to come up with a plan, Pierson nodding along in agreement. "Pierson, take a team through the orchard and find overwatch. After you soften them up, I'll lead the main assault alongside Perez."
Going off of my gut, I knew I would be going with Pierson. Being away from the heat and at a distance would make more sense than going head first into battle.
"Daniels, Zussman, with me," Pierson glanced at the boys. "Come on!"
Turner stopped him for a short moment, murmuring something under his breath. Upon Turner's words, Pierson looked over to me. He nodded once to Turner's words and then motioned for me to follow.
I quickly paced past Aiello, avoiding eye contact with Perez in case he questioned who I was. Most of these soldiers didn't know I was a woman--and I'd made sure to try and hide my most prominent features. I needed to keep it that way.
Zussman and Daniels pushed ahead only slightly. Pierson waited for me to catch up and pass him. Once I did so, he brought up the rear for the few short steps to a solid gate. He moved past all of us to kick it open, continuing as the leader of the separate group--among us were Aiello and Stiles as well. Turner had taken an entirely different group which didn't include his main members of the platoon.
"Pack-38s? What the hell is that?" Aiello questioned.
"German artillery," Stiles responded. "Tank killers."
"Tank killers? What are supposed to do about tank killers?"
"I was," Stiles paused, "wondering that myself."
We continued on, running through debris from shot down American aircraft--a P47 by the general looks of it. Daniels muttered something under his breath and Zussman responded.
As we ran up a small bank and rounded to a corner, I froze in my steps.
"Those are civilians," Stiles spoke slowly.
"War crimes," I whispered, eyeing the three dead bodies, skin beginning to rot off.
"We're fighting Nazis here," Aiello snapped.
Pierson ignored all previous conversation. "Over here! Found a vantage point!"
I continued to stare at the lifeless bodies, their smells beginning to invade my nose. It was rotten...a sickening feeling in my gut. I wanted to look away, forget I'd ever seen the smaller body that could've been a child.
"Come on Ava," Zussman stopped next to me as the others went to the vantage point. "Ava?"
I closed my eyes for a millisecond. "I never imagined..."
"I know," Zussman lowered his voice so the other wouldn't hear. "We have to keep moving."
I turned away from the scene and raised my chin. Zussman squeezed the side of my shoulder, shooting a small smile. I looked back into his determined green gaze.
Keep moving.
I think I had figured out my first lesson with this time period.

--•--•--•--

Happy Saturday readers!
I wonder how many times Ava's first lesson is going to be used in this book. 🤔
Hope you enjoyed!
Song: Can You Feel the Heat Now by Tommee Profitt
~MS~