The unrelenting darkness hung over them like a Chinese torture. It squeezed every breath from each of them to the point that they had to consciously breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out. Any distraction at all, and the automatic breathing function would founder and stop, until that deliberate effort was made once again.

In… out… in… out.

For two days they had been holed up in this barn. As dark inside as the solitary confinement cell he had been sequestered into for two months before breaking free and sprinting back to his homeland, only to sign up for another tour so he could beat these nasty, world dominators. Word had it that D-day had finally arrived and the Allies were in the throes of beating back the relentless charge these godless people had been on for five years. So close to the front, all this lonely squad could do was hunker down and wait for the air support that was surely now on it’s way. They could not tell if it was night or day. Darkness had consumed them for forty eight hours now.

In… out… in… out.

The only sound anyone had made throughout this ordeal had been the odd whimper as someone forgot their breathing… after hearing the cracking of a twig outside, or the far off drone of multi-engined bombers, which they all knew would be escorted by the snarling single engine fighters… the dreaded hot shots who loved to shoot up barns and other inanimate objects just for kicks, in the off chance that there might be some enemy forces holed up inside. Day or night there was no “standing down.” Complete and utter attention was demanded.

In… out… in…      Ping!!!

The sound of a single drop of rain on the metal roof. Or was it a drop of rain? Perhaps a stone thrown by a German soldier in an attempt to flush them out? All breathing stopped. No in… no out. Silence. Complete. Total. Silence.

Ping!!… ping… ping…

The rain was welcome. This would give the Allies more cover. In… out… in… out. Then he strained, as he heard… way, way off in the distance another sound. Breathing stopped. Finally he could make it out. The drone of the bombers. D-day had started and he would soon be heading home, victorious over these heartless demons. The elation was palpable. He could taste something sweet even though he hadn’t eaten for three days. And then he heard the most glorious sound ever. The snarling, hungry, sound of those wonderful fighter aircraft escorting the bombers to their glorious fulfillment of their destiny. He finally worked up the courage to call to his men. “The attack has commenced. We must get out and help drive back the German forces.”

As the snarl of the fighters grew ever louder the squad exited their prison of two days and greeted the rain and dull skies like children greet Santa. They laughed and shouted to each other, each one thanking his maker in his own, personal way. And then they came over the trees at 300 miles per hour. The fighters clearing the path for the bombers. Through tear-filled eyes he watched the fighters with awe. His attention was snapped back to the present when one of his men shouted “Messerschmitt!!!” Too late, he realized the Germans were retreating… they were actually behind enemy lines. Like rats in a barnyard they scurried for cover but five screaming fighter-bombers all dropped their two thousand  pound bombs in an effort to out-run the pursuing  Allied aircraft. Ten thousand pounds of steel and explosive rained down on the men as they scrambled for cover, scattering them over a half mile with the intensity of  their explosions.

He woke up to silence. Breathe in…  breathe out… splat!!! A raindrop landed on his forehead. He tried to lift his hand to brush it away… but neither arm would move. In… out… splat!! Can’t… breathe… in. So close to heading home, victorious. And the blackness enveloped him.