From Russia to Family

Chapter 1 France

Somewhere in France

1940, May

After Dunkirk, Leon and Emil, along with their battalion turned their attention to Paris and began their march. Now the two sat on the hull of a Panzer IV, Leon's helmet sat on his lap and his rifle sat slung over his shoulder, held in his hands. To the left of the tank, on his side, were a line of trees, behind them were fields upon fields. Both in front and behind were trucks and other tanks, as well as columns of marching men. Above the sky was overcast, the clouds hung low and grey. In the distance the dark grey lines of torrential rain could be seen. Their attack on Dunkirk had been just over a week ago, yet he remembered it vividly, the gunshots, sirens and yelling. It all stayed with him...Soon after they reached a town, buildings became more and more frequent as they drew closer to the town square. The tanks stopped in a semi-circle at the start of the stone brick road, the trucks sat behind them. Leon had Emil help him clip the mg42 onto his back before he picked up his rifle with the left hand, holding near the middle and balancing it. His right hand grabbed his helmet from the hull of the tank, he turned to face the town and placed the helmet on his head as he walked forwards, swinging the rifle up to his right hand to hold it at the ready.

Leon was just behind two other soldiers, his rifle had been loaded, barrel facing the ground at an angle. The machine gun on his back was heavy but he'd gotten used to it. Emil walked behind him and to the left. The squad, consisting of around 10 men slowly walked through the town street, bypassing alleys and small side streets. Their aim was the church at the end of the road, it had a bell tower that would make a good position for snipers and scouting. The revving of the tanks' engines died as they were turned off, the town becoming increasingly quiet. A snap hit the air. The man upfront stopped walking, the others following suit, raising rifles to shoulders. Instinctively the last two men walked to the sides of the street and took cover by the edge of a building on the corner, their rifles peeking around the wall. Emil went prone and Leon got on one knee. The two in front of Leon made sure their shoulders hit the wall closest, the man on the right shoving his right shoulder into the wall...the man on the left doing the opposite. The group sat still. Nothing moved. The man at the very front on the left fell onto the ground as a 'ping' was made whilst a bullet hit his helmet. Then doors flew open and windows were smashed as French soldiers came out of their hiding spots. Firing as they appeared. Leon dropped himself to the ground, in a few seconds his rifle was raised, aimed and fired before he rolled to the left and scrambled into a building. Ducking below a window he cycled the bolt and took aim through the window. He could see Emil still laying on the road, out in the open, playing dead.

"Emil! Run to me!"

"They'll shoot me before I make it!"

"I'll cover you!"

"You sure?"

Leon laid his rifle against the wall and unclipped the machine gun from his back, placing its bipod on the window sill. Sliding in a bullet chain and cocking it he took aim, stock against the shoulder, left hand on the top of the stock with cheek using the left hand as a cushion.

"Emil run on three ok?"

The bullets of the French soldiers kept his comrades from firing back, and as they had seen, the squad leader had been shot in the head.

"O...Ok."

"Ok. 3...2"

His finger moved to the trigger, his sights finding the bland dark green of the French uniform that was shooting at his friend.

"Run!"

His finger pulled back and the gun kicked into him as it fired. Emil got up and ran like hell for the building. Leon's machine gun cut through the enemy in seconds, its constant fire sounding like a hum. He released the trigger for a second.