A Demon Enters My Body
His best friend dies: Murph loses his cool
Ch. 26 My Mother and Audie Murphy
August 15, 1944. D-Day in Southern France
“We jump from the landing craft and wade ashore through the swirling water. From the hills the German guns begin to crack. An occasional shell lands in our midst. The medics roll up their sleeves and get busy.
“An explosion sounds on my left; and when the smoke lifts I see the torn body of a man who stepped on a mine. A medic bends over him, rises, and signals four litter bearers that their services will not be needed.
“Directly ahead of us is a strip of scrub and matted grass. We move quickly toward it for cover, stepping as gingerly as if walking on eggs. We have discovered that the beach is loaded from end to end with mines which a few pounds of pressure will detonate.
“We stop at the edge of a green meadow. Beyond are trim vineyards and scattered farmhouses; and each of the buildings is a potential enemy stronghold. I jump into a drainage ditch and wade up it with the mud sucking at my feet.”
They kill two Germans and capture six.
“The thin shell of resistance along the beach is soon shattered. We move rapidly inland. Three wooded hills lie to our right. From the center one protrudes a pill box with the barrels of its cannon pointing beachward. Our secret information lists this hill as an enemy strongpoint. To my company is given the job of neutralizing it.
“Under a glaring sun we move toward it in sweat-soaked clothes. My platoon is in advance; and I am bringing up its rear when searing automatic fire bursts from the wooded slopes.”
Murphy’s two comrades are killed. He is alone and the Germans have discovered his position.
Then Murphy engages in acts of heroism that earn him one of his many medals. He duels with the enemy until his ammunition is exhausted. Then he seizes a machine gun and rakes the foxholes. Still under fire, he is joined by a comrade, his best buddy in the squad.
“Heaving two hand grenades, we rise suddenly and empty our carbines into the gun emplacement. Our action is followed by utter silence. Then the Germans yell ‘Kamerad!’”
The Nazis are waving a white handkerchief. Murphy’s buddy climbs from the hole nonchalantly and stands upright.
“That is all the enemy is waiting for. I hear the slash of machine gunfire. As he topples back into the pit, he softly murmurs “Murph.” Stunned, I lie for a moment with the two dead Germans beneath me and my comrade on top.
“Carefully I ease myself from under him. An abrupt movement may cause his wounds to hemorrhage. I grab his wrist but there is no beat to his pulse. I start yelling like an insane man for the medics, but I might as well be shouting at the moon. I am all alone; and the hill is rattling with fire.
“For the first time in the war, I refuse to accept facts. While (my friend) grows dead beneath my hand, I keep telling myself he is not dead, he can’t be dead because if he is dead the war is all wrong and he has died in vain.
“Then I get the curious notion that he needs fresh air. I lift the body from the hole and stretch it beneath the cork tree. Why I am not shot during the process I shall never understand. Instinctively I spin about to find a machine gun being trained coming from a position a few yards to my right. I leap back into the hole, jerk the pin from the grenade, and throw it.
“At its blast I scramble from the pit with my carbine. But the grenade has done its work well. One of the two Germans manning the gun has his chest torn open; The other has been killed by a fragment that pierced an eye.
“I pick up their gun and methodically check it for damage. It is in perfect condition. Holding it like a BAR for firing from the hip, I start up the hill.
“I remember the experience as I do a nightmare. A demon seems to have entered my body. My brain is coldly alert and logical. I do not think of the danger to myself. My whole being is concentrated on killing. Later the men pinned down in the vineyard tell me that I shout pleas and curses at them because they do not come up and join me.
“When I find the gun crew that betrayed him, the men are concentrating on targets downhill. They do not see me and I have time to take careful aim before pulling the trigger. As the lacerated bodies flop and squirm, I rake them again; and I do not stop firing while there is a quiver left in them.
“In a little while, all resistance on the hill has been wiped out. The company moves up, and we halt on the crest to reorganize.
“The voices of the men seem to come to me through a thick wall. My hands begin to tremble; and I feel suddenly weak. Sinking to the ground, I wait until the company moves off through the trees. Then I go back down the hill to find (my friend).
“I check his pockets to see that all of his personal effects are secure. I open his purse and take a last look at the little girl with pigtails. I remove his pack and make a pillow for his head then I sit by his side and bawl like a baby.
“An insect begins chirping halfheartedly. The leaves on the cork tree rustle. After a while I get up, wipe the tears from my eyes, and walk over the hill to rejoin the company….
“As the afternoon passes, the rage leaves me. Again I look at the Germans as an enemy to be hated only impersonally. Again I see the war as it is: an endless series of problems involving the blood and guts of men. And I accept the mysterious workings of destiny as I did yesterday.”
Quotes are from Audie Murphy’s autobiography To Hell and Back
Ch. 27: https://medium.com/@tradeswomn/flo-and-her-crew-sail-to-france-20e4d32baad5
