Screams on the beachLess than 6 meters from me, a bomb exploded. Blood spurted and pieces of pungent-smelling skin flew past my ear. Behind me, a group of American soldiers charged forward, their machine guns aimed at the sand dunes. I looked at my little brother Martin, who was curled up in the fetal position, his head resting against my chest. “Come on, Marty. Let's go!" I stood up and pulled him to his feet. "We have to follow the other guys!" Martin didn't move. He stayed still, staring into the distance. His lower lip trembled. . My heart ached for him, but we had to keep moving. I grabbed him by the arm. “Come on!” Martin started running. were stuck along his body, he took large, uneven steps and moved his legs wildly. His gaze was always fixed forward. I more or less dragged him as we ran forward. Others were huddled behind a bullet-crushed tank, firing their weapons at the enemy. Dragging Martin, I ran to join them. I sat down and pushed Martin's head down as I did so. pointing my gun at the tank I fired ten shots in rapid succession, then looked at Martin. He had his fingers in his ears and was slowly rocking. He needed a doctor, but there was no way to find him one now. I patted him on the back with one hand. “It will be over soon!” I screamed against the roar of battle. For almost three more hours we fought against the Nazis. Our place was optimal. We had a clear view of the enemy and were able to open fire on them while remaining relatively safe. We really should have moved somewhere else after all the Germans directly in front of us died, but we were too terrified. We were cramped...in the middle of paper......we were supposed to be two blood soaked craters. Part of his bone was visible. Next to me, Martin was screaming. His eyes were wide and his body was trembling. I was terrified. “Martin, what’s wrong?” » He didn't say anything. He kept shouting. “Come on, Marty. Let's go back to camp. » I grabbed his arm. “Come on, it’s okay. Let's tell everyone you just killed a Nazi all by yourself. » Martin's screams intensified. His entire body was rocking back and forth violently. Some of the others came to see what the commotion was. I looked desperately at my brother. “Please stop shouting. It's okay, let's go back to camp. » Martin didn't stop. On the verge of panic, I grabbed Martin's arm and pulled him forward. Martin abruptly withdrew his arm. His face streaked with tears and snot, Martin looked at me and cried, “I killed him, Tommy!” I killed him!”