Necrocide by Jonathan Davison Read Free Book Online

pleasure.” Granger whispered, not wishing to offend any of the other company who jostled their way through to the front.
    “I reckon it'll be light resistance. They haven't a clue really.” Said Charlie Brooks who lurked behind his two mates grinning like a demented old man.
    “Let's hope you're right.” Hawkins muttered knowing that there was no way to tell what lie in store. Intelligence suggested that the Germans had spread thin their resources to cover all bases. Using veterans unable to be of use at the Russian front and Ost Battalion troops recruited from other countries, they had high hopes that they would quickly be overcome. Even if there was initially light resistance, it would not remain so as there were no doubt Panzer divisions lying in readiness to react to the call for reinforcements.
    A couple of hours passed as the soldiers watched the landing crafts known as LCA's, packed with their comrades head off for the Normandy coast. The 47 th were not due to hit the beach codenamed Gold until 09:45 but the willingness to get things over and done with meant that the soldiers were chomping at the bit to get going. This led to a lot of hanging around when they could have been below catching a few more hours rest. Once the barrage had begun however, there was no sleeping and on more than one occasion, an NCO ordered the Commandos to go below deck and make room. Little hindrance was taken however and Hawkins hung over the side of the ships railings looking into the depths of the choppy waters imagining how cold and unwelcoming it would be as it lapped the fine shale of the beach.
    “Forty Seventh!” The call finally went up, bringing the young men to attention in the strong light of the morning. As Hawkins shuffled along to the rope netting with which they would make their way down to the small landing crafts, he saw firsthand the scale of the assault. The darkness of night had given way to an overcast morning and on the horizon, ships and boats of all sizes and descriptions could be seen as one gargantuan flotilla. The larger of those military vessels had finished pounding the coastline and had virtually spent every shell they had. The air was thick with smoke and France could barely be seen through the haze.
    As John Hawkins grappled at the rope ladder and lowered himself into the clutches of his LCA's coxswain, he knew that the next half hour would define his future life or end it as swiftly as it had begun.

CHAPTER 7
    The translucent silhouette of the beachhead greeted Hawkins' eyes as the wind, bitter and biting whistled about his ears. Behind him, he could see the Coxswain struggling at the helm to keep the landing craft on a steady tack.
    “Damn it!” He cried out and Hawkins grew pessimistic about the helmsman's composure which only added to a sense of apprehension. Tossed around within the high sided LCA which resembled an elongated commercial skip and offered the same comforts, several dozen soldiers rolled about in an attempt to compensate for the movement of the waves which battered the flat bow of the boat and pounded the craft with a boom like a distant 88mm gun.
    Salty spray drizzled over the heads of the soldiers who remained quiet and pensive as the craft drew ever closer to the beach. Hawkins peered out over the shoulders of the men in front of him and attempted to get a good look at the coastline. He could make out a few small dwellings dotted about in the greenery but what he was looking for was signs of life upon the beach itself. He, like the others in the boat had high hopes that the preceding forces would have cleared out the initial resistance and their landing would be a safe one.
    A whistling volley of artillery fire suddenly screamed overhead and sent a plume of water high into the sky in the LCA's wake. It had become apparent that not all of the guns had been silenced as hoped. Hawkins looked over to George Granger who returned the glance with a raised eyebrow. Nothing need be said