The salty air stung my face, as the landing craft surged through the icy depths of inky black water. My sweaty hands gripped the cold rifle, and somehow it gave me comfort in a world that seemed unreal. The distant thuds of gunshots silenced us all as we realised what we were going into. My restless mind continued to sway back home – the rugged hills and endless skies of Scotland.  

I had spent my life among craggy peaks and purple, heather covered moors where the wind howled like an old war cry. This was the land of my ancestors. Those hills were calming yet imposing. But this—this was different. This was D-Day, and it felt like the whole world was about to change. 

The boat lurched forward and forced me back to reality. The ramp dropped. The roaring battle immediately filled the air- machine guns, explosions the cries of injured soldiers. Cold water splashed up to my knees as I charged forward, the weight of my gear dragging me down immensely, but I had to survive. I had to fight for my country. Bullets tore the sky apart, blood splattered, sand sprayed up, and explosions rattled the ground. The beach was chaos. A hellscape of smoke and flames.  

I found cover behind a crooked rock, just for a moment to catch my breath. All around me men were fighting valiantly, moving forward in the face of certain death. Fear and determination tangled together in every soldier’s eyes, but they could not stop. There was no turning back. They fought for each other, for home, in the slightest chance that the war would end.  

Amid the madness I pressed on. The noise of the battle faded into the background, leaving only one thought. Survive, and take back what was lost.