It is stories like that and the ones we all live through while playing this game, that makes this game so special. If i may.
(When reading this you can listen to The Pacific Theme music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtmAiNG2Lxk , or the Band of Brothers Theme music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gec7OUrj87M . Or pick your own music and post them as a comment.)
CLANK The ramp opens. "GO GO GO GO!!!!". The first three are shot down as they try to leave the craft. I stumble over one of my fellow soldiers' body, face first in the watery sand. I do not hesitate, remember my training, get up and run forward.
Rushing up the beach, braving the enemy fire, explosions everywhere. The noise, indescribable. Shouting, bullets, shells, crying, ... men dying...
The guy right next to me is suddenly cut down and slaughtered by machine gun fire. Damn woodpeckers, we had learned all about them in training. I stop and take a knee. Trying to catch my breath. On an instant, my training is forgotten. Blank stare to where that soldier used to be. All that is left is his guts hanging from his side. Blood is coming out of his nose. Panting. This isn't happening. This must be a dream. One second later I wake up, "PRIVATE GET THE FUCK DOWN!". Just in time, I duck down and crawl towards a crater as that same machine gun has me in his sights now. I think by myself: how the fuck am I going to get out of this mess, away from this killing zone?. People are shouting across the radio, "WE NEED SOME GODDAMN ARTILLERY". "WE'RE BEING SLAUGHTER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE".
This isn't hell. This is something far worse. They don't teach you this in training.
Everything turns black and white, panting, frightened. All I can see is my dear mother's face in my memory. Oh mother and her delicious apple pies... Heck she even tried to stop you on numerous occasions to join up but you felt like it was your duty. Why would you chase girls, work and live a quiet life while your fellow man is over there dying for the cause? I just had to.
You dad, crying, proud as a whistle his son is going to kick the Krauts or Japs back from whence they came as he did in the First World War. A last hug. As you're ready to board the train, a glimpse of the girl in your class. We kissed on the final day of school, as she knew you were planning to enlist. There she stood, her perfect smile as always. She waved, I waved back, swallowed my tears and feelings and boarded the train. I had to. Not many seem to understand why but I just had to join up.
It sure seems less heroic right now.
"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!". "ARE YOU HURT?". I snap out of it. "HEY BUDDY, WHERE ARE YOU SHOT?!". "I'M FINE!", I yell back. "WELL OK" he yells, pats me on the shoulder and runs off. I remember that guy. That was one of the medics from the other company.
I look around for a person of leadership, someone I can follow out of this mess. A beacon of hope. There! I see him! Those fancy stripes on the helmet and his uniform give his rank away! I can hear him yelling "ALRIGHT BOYS ON ME, LET'S GO!". But then it was already too late. The mortar shell was already on it's way. That man's faith had already been sealed. When his right foot hit the top of the shingle, he blew up. Boom. The explosion from the mortar hit smack in front of him. I can see his left arm fly away, towards me, blood gushing out. His men advance, many are cut down. Your stomach turns.
My eyes meet the eyes of a fellow soldier who fell to the ground looking for cover. We stare at each other for what felt like minutes. He looks around, gets up and disappears behind a rock, onward to the battlefield. Onward, to the meat grinder. "THIS IS MADNESS". "WHERE IS THE REST OF OUR REINFORCEMENTS?". I try to control myself. I remember dear old Gunny in the landing craft: "BE SURE TO GET OFF THE BEACH AS QUICK AS YOU CAN! IT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN GET OFF OF THIS ISLAND ALIVE!".
Heck he didn't even make it off of the swash beach... That rugged old bastard... He knew I wasn't eighteen yet, but he treated me like a man and a soldier, just like any other. And now he's gone. I try to pink away a single tear.
An huge explosion right in front of the rock formation I'm behind wakes me up again. All of a sudden I hear in the distance something resembling "BREACH!". "WE GOT A BREACH OVER HERE!". I raise my head, which in hindsight wasn't the smartest thing to do, and see soldiers getting to the far right bunkers. I can hear Jap cries in the distance. I try to crawl my way over there but it almost seems as if every Jap with a rifle, machine gun and knee mortar is aiming at me! To hell with it. I jump up and haul ass. Dodging bullets like no other, it feels like I'm trying to dodge the rain. By some miracle I make it across some shell craters, leftover bushes and rock formations. I find shelter again behind a small burnt-out Jap bunker and follow my fellow soldiers into the breach.
I look to my left. Someone with a flamethrower. "BURN YOU FILTHY NIPS" ... "BURN FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER ON TARAWA". "AAAAAAARGGHHH!!!". You didn't condone it, but you understood it. Everyone did. The people back home though wouldn't, no matter what you told them.
I make my way through the enemy's first line. People are being cut down from unknown positions. There!. A bunker who had been shot by presumably Allied naval artillery prior to the assault. An ideal position to take cover and asses my situation.
As you run over, you see a man working his radio, yelling, spewing saliva, doing whatever it takes to get that artillery as accurately as possible called in so it doesn't hit our own boys. As you make your way over there, you stumble over something. Right at that moment you hear Click. A mine. You look up, right into the eyes of the radioman. "Motherf-!". But it was too late. BOOM.
Six week wonders is what they called us. Not many of has had what it took after six weeks of training to participate in this war. All we had were the guts to stand up for the people, to rid the world of tyranny and the idiocy to think this was all going to be fun. Join the Army they said...
Not many of us returned home.
Many of us, forgotten.
The End.
It might not appear in Rising Storm this way, but i always try to remember as i play, that these scene's were real for the men assaulting beaches such as Tarawa, Iwo Jima and fighting grounds such as Guadalcanal or Palau Island. Not only the Pacific scene, but also the other theaters of the war, in this war, the wars before and the wars to come.
Lest we forget.