July 26, 2012
WOLVERINE WARS: WWII
THROUGH THE YEARS THE MAN COMMONLY KNOWN AS WOLVERINE HAS HAD TO FIGHT THE BATTLES SOME MEN SIMPLY COULD NOT. HE HAS FOUGHT FOR HIS COUNTRY TIME AND TIME AGAIN. HE HAS BEEN FORCED TO ENDURE PAIN UNIMAGINABLE TO THE EVERYDAY MAN. HE IS AN AMERICAN SOLDIER. HE IS IS A PATRIOT. HE IS A HUMAN KILLING MACHINE. HE IS A MUTANT. HE IS… ///WOLVERINE///
A day to remember…
"Log entry #1… Kitty tells me it would help, keeping a recorded journal. She knows I don't tend to like writing my feelings down much, heh I guess recording ain't much different I suppose. just recording… Though I thought I'd do it for the kid, Kitty tells me it will stop the bad memories, the night terrors she says. I call bullshit, the kid calls it me being a bull headed ****. This is for you Kitty… My name is Logan, some like to call me Wolverine, and this is my story…"
"Off the shore of Omaha Beach, Tuesday, June 6th, 1944…
It was one strip of fire. The sea flashed without hesitating. Then it started. The bloodiest day human and mutant kind alike would ever come to witness… D-Day.
The attack started with the B-17’s storming the air ways. They shot fiercely trying to send the Nazis a surprise party. Often times though the good surprise was spent on the wrong bubs due to clouded judgment… Far and wide you could hear the Nazis cry that we were coming as the air raid continued throughout the landscape. Bombs dropped in every direction, creating colleagues of bodies in the air as the impact took charge. Hurriedly they ran to the trenches on top of Omaha beach preparing themselves and their weapons. Once the Naval assault took place it was easy for them to defend their ground. The Nazis fired far and wide. Their bullets hitting the surface of the water each time with a terrifying thud, often times taking with it a tint of blood from a nearby soldier. Though the bubs were scared, they had a right to be.
As I sat there continuing to sail towards the moans of agony and brave cries, listening to the outburst from above, I couldn’t help but notice the looks on my men's faces. As I looked around my crowded barricade I realized so many were coming to terms for the first time that this was war, and that they could die, and how I could never truly understand how that felt. I was one with the healing factor, and my men? They were just ordinary people with a passion for serving their country, knowing they could easily die at any given moment. It wasn’t right, none of it was, and none of it ever will be…
“Dear, god… We won’t survive.”
“Jesus Christ, you hear that Charlie?”
“O-man, O-man, oh ****!”
“Dear lord, I pray you look after Lory and the kids.”
Their voices echoing in my mind… My men asked, prayed, and did everything else a normal person would do in their position. I remember sitting there emotionless, listening to the hell that had just come over us. I wasn’t normal. I didn’t have anything to lose. At the time I was an animal on the run, looking for what I knew best in every corner I could find. Looking for something to put my claws in, looking for something I could make feel my pain… I was looking for something I had always been familiar with, I was looking for hell itself and I had gotten it full throttled. The war for me felt like nothing more than a welcome back surprise party.
We had arrived at the shore with a massive impact, delivering every man a bad case of whiplash as we held on tight to the ship. As everyone regained their balance and my men prepared their weapons, I once again had taken an in depth scan through my men realizing that the praying, scared faces I had come to be familiar with just moments ago, had vanished completely. There wasn’t any feeling left among my men, just blank slates with automatic weapons prepared to do what they had to for survival… The ramp lowered, and with it came a horrifying view that easily surpassed anything my men had thought hell to be.
As the ramp hit the gored version of Omaha Beach, all went silent for what felt like an eternity. The rotting corpses that laid a waste in the waters soon took center stage with a smell that would be insulting to call vulgar, the painful vibes of fallen soldiers seeping through us with a goal for a smooth retribution. The adrenaline pumping through our veins so heavy it had deafened the moans of agony and fired shots around us completely. I ran first out of the barricade, wasting no time. Blood ran amok as I marched forward, the death and destruction ran through more freely than a bird leaving its nest for the very first time, the chaos took no pause and had no intention to anytime soon. Shots fired all around me, some going in and out of me so fast I couldn't catch a breath of the lingering raunchiness that surrounded every inch the beach anymore.
“GRAH!!” I could still hear the deafening screech I let out as I ran from the boat, boasting from the unbearable strain that had flooded through me. I continued to draw attention to myself, believing there was a chance I could take the majority of the heavy fire that had been concentrated on our ship. The bastards were too heavy for me though, none of it mattered. I was shot to hell and the he sun didn't seem to be rising anytime soon for this bub.
“Oh, fu--,” were one my men's last words before the exit wound from his cortex had painted each side of the ship a bloody portrait. It had been Johnny, the first of my men to try to exit the ship to run out onto the field after me. The bub had only been seventeen at the time, dropping out of high school with a goddamn hard-on for serving his country. The kid was scrawny, fragile, dressed with a pair of loosely based glasses, but the kid had always given it his all no matter what anyone had said about him and for that I gave him my full respect.
The death toll only continued after the kid. Eventually it got to the point where the faces had all faded, all forming into one collage. I couldn’t recognize anyone anymore, most of my men were probably dead and it would have been naive to think any less. I had continued to lye on the beach, me being the only one still laying with a pulse. The sight of the bodies and the theme of the beach had only continued to get more foul by the second as I laid there… It was haunting to say the least of words.
“Sir! What do we do now Sir?!”
“Get the hell up! Up! Come on!”
My men quickly ran over me, some trying to speak to me not realizing the blasts all around had put me into a state of mind where I couldn’t feel, nor hear anything in my surroundings… Although I could witness everything and smell every bit of disgust the beach had to offer. As I laid there on that damn beach, letting the led pop from my lungs, I couldn’t help but witness the crucifying murders. The first to arrive to the field, like my men and I hadn’t been lucky, the Nazi scum bags laid it hard on us and them, taking most of the first arrivals to their graves within seconds of laying a foot on the beach. Other troops soon arrived, still being shot to hell but with better chance of survival as many followed behind. Some died as soon as the ramp would hit the gore, often times the bullets being fired would land in a flame thrower roasting everyone aboard that man’s barricade, as others just simply weren’t lucky enough on the 300-400 yard dash to cover.
“Get up Lieutenant! Damn it! I said GET UP!! You don’t die here son, not today you don’t!” It had been the one and only red, white, and blue boy scout. The one I would soon grow to admire, though never fully agree with had come to my aid, Captain America himself.
“SOLIDER!!” Cap' was dying from the pressure, the fired shots from above had came down on him with ambition and a fiery passion for serving Death himself. Cap's red wrapped hand had glued itself to the leather strap that was attached to his shield, he held on tight in attempt to resist any injury that was meant for me. Shot, after shot, attempted to lay waste to Cap's shield as I laid there behind him like a helpless fool. Steve was losing footing fast, the sand was sinking even faster…
“Wha-? What?” My mind was foggy, filled of rushed, incomplete thoughts as I began to come into a better state of mind. Thump. Thump. Thump. Moderately, without any hesitation, my mind raced with the strain the blasts and artillery had sent over me. My body was beaten and torn, my attire blood soaked and tinted with foreign juices like so many others alike. Soon instinct gave way and I had known one thing and one thing only, now was not the time to die. I had to get up. Cap' was laying his life on the line for me and I wasn't about to let that go in vain.
"MOVE DAMMIT'!!" A grenade had been cast toward Rogers and planted in the sand before him, and with that grenade came a tiny blimp in my mind telling me to act and fast. Wrapping both arms around Steve I hurriedly rushed him into a cramped pile of corpses, it was sick and inhumane but it was what we had and it had saved the boy scout's life… I wasn't about to argue fate. The Nazis were bread to fear Steve, he was America's one fighting chance, America's pride and glory. They wanted him out fast, the grenade was meant to be the easy way out for a quick kill and hurray for whoever the bastard was to lay Cap in his death bed once and for all. I acted fast and with pure bread instinct, I didn't choose the cover, destiny did. This wasn't my first rodeo and it sure as hell wasn't going to be my last. My body had been fairly healed and it was time to get back out there. My men were dead and I was going to send those Nazi bastards a one way ticket to hell, and I'd be damned if I would give them any less.
“What in God's name?! I had that soldier! Do you think I'm blind?!” Cap had been so embarrassed he hadn't taken anytime to notice what he was lying in. All he could think about was how stupid he was and how ridiculous it was for a lieutenant to save him after all things he'd fought through. Back then Cap hadn't been the exact man he was known to be today.
“What exactly did you have? A good leeway to a well handed ass whooping? All I saw was **** risking his life for nothing! So instead how about you pull your head out of your ass and show some appreciation!”
“Who do you think you are to talk to-?”
More fire was sailing our way and our cover was sinking drastically. We had to move, before long our cover would be nothing more than a pile of unrecognizable torn up parts of the anatomy. We had an estimated 300-400 yard dash to a worthy cover, we had to think fast and move even faster…
“Got any idea's boy scout?” I had said taking in a long, deep, breath, appreciating the led finally being free of my lungs. I sat straight up and leaned onto the gruesome scene I was forced to rely on. Slowly I began to face Cap hoping for one of those sissy looks he's so good at giving that give you a sense of hope, because I was beginning to lose all the hope I had collected after all those months. The war had been least to say a giant pile of stenching ****, and this was feeling more and more like the end.
“Damn it! DAMN IT!” Cap had said slamming his beat-up scarlet fists on the sand below him, ignoring my question completely. He laid his bloody and battered blue stocking legs before him and lowered his shield, and then he did what most men would have done in his position. He gave God a good cursing.
“I'll tell you what we're going to do soldier, we're going to get up and raise our head's up high and win this war for everyone back home. We take the beach… On my mark you'll get behind the shield and you'll take it to those son's of bitches real nice and easy as we march forward. I'll cover you the whole way through soldier. Are you locked and loaded?”
“Yes, sir.” I said slipping one K-9 and giving him a prize worthy grin.
“Cap had raised his head and raised his shield even higher, we marched forward and gave those Hitler prairies a real ass kicking. we were an unstoppable force to recon with. From that point on we would continue our crusade and fight with an unforgiving fierce vengeance for our fallen soldiers. We would soon come to reach cover and reach our primary objective at Omaha. We would come to secure the beachhead consisting of five miles in deph, between Port-en-Bessin and the Vire-River, linking with the British landings at Gold Beach to the east, and reaching the area of Isigny to the west to link with the VII Corps landing at Utah Beach but not until long after the bloodshed. When it was all said and done the assault on Omaha consisted of 43,250 infantry's, 2 battleships, 3 cruisers, 12 destroyers, and 105 other ships. We would sub comb to 3,000 casualties and 1,200 loses. At 21:00 the landing of the 26th RCT completed the planned landing of infantry, but losses in equipment were high, including 26 artillery pieces, over 50 tanks, about 50 landing craft and 10 larger vessels.Of the 2,400 tons of supplies scheduled to be landed on D-Day, only 100 tons actually landed for those poor bastards.Casualties for V Corps were estimated at 3,000 killed, wounded and missing, many never heard from again. The heaviest casualties were taken by the infantry bubs, tanks and engineers in the first landings. The months would bring the America the death of Hitler, the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, and the absence of Captain America himself for decades to come. People would go home and some would never forget as other would simply pretend the hell WWII became never happened… I for one will always carry the memory. I for one will always wake to the fired shots and the explosives, forever living through the same battles forever and ever… I will always remember the place where I learned to do, what I do best… Log entry #1, completed…”
July 26, 2012
If you want to read a waaaay better formatted version here's the link- http://fans.marvel.com/go/thre…..roves%20it.
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