To Kill A Mockingbird-Personal Narrative

June 6, 1944, 0630 hours (MacDonald). Not a single gull in the sky. All that could be heard were the crashing of waves against the side of the boat, the vomiting of my brothers in arms due to sea sickness and fear, and my own heartbeat, beating louder than it ever had. Water was continuously spilling over into the boat, waves crashing down over the walls soaking all of us inside. It was foggy, the sun could only be seen as a smear of light behind the gray and black that consumed the morning sky. Our boat was moving, I knew where to, but its direction almost impossible to tell. All that could be seen from inside the boat was the sky and the four walls that surrounded me. I was experiencing all these sounds and distractions and movements, yet, I felt as though I was
I noticed a man about 20 yards away waving me over. He was taking cover behind one of the boats we rode ashore. I sprinted over to him, stumbling a little along the way, just trying to avoid being killed.
“I’m Sgt. Thompson! We need to move up! We are far too vulnerable! Help me find a good location,” he said to me as he handed me an M1 Garand, the standard issue rifle for infantrymen (Laurenceau). We began to scout a possible area of cover further up the beach. I spotted a small group of four men taking cover in a bomb crater in the sand about 150 yards in front of us (Worrld War II).
“Over there,” I said, pointing to the group.
“Alright Private, you go first. I’ll cover you and then you can cover me. Move quickly and stay alert!” he replied.
He hadn’t even finished the sentence and he shoved me out into the open. I began to move quicker than I ever had before. I could hear the sound of his rifle firing at the cliffs in front of me. Who knows if he was actually hitting anyone, but I didn’t care, I just kept running. Bullets started striking the sand at my feet rapidly. I started running in a zig-zag manner in an attempt