Not Yet

The skies were filled with fire. The air was filled with smoke and ash. The house couldn't hold on for much longer. The structure was already weak with age and the barrage of artillery was not helping it stand up. It would be crazy to have stayed in the house any longer, but getting out into the streets would have been down right insane.
"Incoming!"

Dust showered down onto the squad as another round crashed against the building. A chair sized rock thumped down near the squad sending a tremor through the floor. They have been staying on that house for a full hour; it was no doubt that the Germans had their position fixed down to the tile they were crouching on.

They hadn't expected a small German detachment covering the abandoned streets. Before they managed to flush them out of the Chapel the scout surely had called their artillery on the outskirts of the town. It was supposed to be a quick sweep of the small town; picking up the trash after the all out night bombing. The scout planes reported full withdrawal by the Germans, but apparently they had been smart enough to leave a small squad to spot unaware targets for the artillery.

And now they were paying for their clumsiness. Dallas was regretting his choice of volunteering for the assignment. His squad hadn't seen any action since the landing. He took this personally and volunteered for the assignment when it was given. Death was raining down on them on fiery wings, and that was quite a price to pay for glory.

----

"Damn it, go back where you came from Mike!"

"Sir, if we don't pull out of this house we'll be buried by the time the next round hits."

"Not if we're lucky and it misses us! Getting out into the streets is a one way ticket to Hell!"

"Sir..."

"Mike, I'm scared too, but we have more chance of living in here then out there." The sergeant said while clasping his hands on the young boy's soldiers. Mike stared into his commander's eyes and nodded slowly. Dallas let him go and went back to crouching behind the leftovers of a wall.

Mike accompanied him for some time, crouching there behind him, flinching every time a round came close to the building. Mike was a good soldier, sharp and quick, tactically wise, outspoken, and relentless in a fight. Dallas especially admired his outspoken qualities, he kept Dallas conscious about the decisions he's making. More then once he managed to stop Dallas from making rash decisions that probably would have costed the squad a couple of lives. That's why Dallas kept him around, to fulfill that need of a doubter; the naysayer.

The fire stopped abruptly. Dallas looked at Mike with a quizzical expression. He knew that Mike was thinking the same thing. Why had the German stopped?

"Thompson, what the Hell's going on up there?"

Thompson, the self appointed lookout, answered "The whole battery's gone silent, I think they're pulling out!"

Dallas looked over to Mike, "One doesn't simply use that much ammunition and pull out, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, but this might be our only chance to get out of here."

"Those guns could open up just as fast as they stop shooting. If we were to get out of here, we'd have to be very careful."

"I'd rather take that chance then wait a full out attack by the Jerries."

"Alright, your call this time," Dallas said to Mike, then to the rest of the squad, "Up men, we're moving out. Phalanx, Carson, you two take point. Thompson and Mike, you guys be our tails."

---

They were ready in less then a minute. All of the men were brushing off the dust off of their combat uniforms and tending to little cuts and bruises. They were all glad that they could finally get out of this situation. They loaded their weapons, flicked the safeties off, and went out to the building while keeping careful not to expose themselves too much.

Dallas was proud of them. They moved with surgical expertise around the city blocks, sticking close to walls and old buildings. He was sure that the German artillery couldn't have spotted them. His thoughts came true as the artillery started pounding again around ten blocks off of their position. It was only when they heard the engines of a Panzer did anything started to go wrong.

It was Thompson who first spotted the tank, he sure had an eye for oncoming trouble. Mike and him quickly got back to the squad to inform Dallas of the problem. Dallas told them to go back to see if the tank had any infantry support. He had ordered the squad to a full halt, except for Phalanx and Carson which he assigned to look for a defensible spot.

Everything was according to plan, but apparently the German force was going at a faster pace then expected. He was just about to go and look for Mike and Thompson when he saw them running, hands holding their helmets down, posture low to the ground. He was just about to ask them what was going on when a piece of the building next to them was ripped out of its socket. The structure was weak and the building crumbled down. 

Luckily most of it fell the other way, but due to the tremors Thompson lost his footing and fell. Mike stopped running and quickly ran back to his fallen friend. He got him up by the shoulders, and half dragged half carried him to the squad's position. Dallas quickly ordered his squad to form a makeshift defensive line, and told Andrews to fetch Phalanx and Carson. He was getting anxious, and as Mike approached the line the rumbling of the tank was starting to become palpable.

---

"To Hell with pulling back, they're here!" Those were Mike's words as he came to the position. Thompson was on his back against some ruins cursing his leg out for tripping and breaking. They had no choice but to hold out for now. Thompson held Mike's carbine on his lap, they had switched weapons when it was apparent that he wouldn't be able to fight standing. It was a cruel joke really, he was the best man on the Thompson sub-machinegun, it was some turn of fate that his name was also Thompson. And now he got his name taken away from him.

"We're going to commence a simple run back to cover maneuver to pull back. First line defense pulls back on a reload to the end of the line, and the next row follows suit. Any questions?"

There would be no questions asked, it was pretty rudimentary. Thompson was put on the far end of the line, paired with Andrews. Mike and Dallas held the front of the lines, Carson and Phalanx on the second, Harrison, Jackson, and Lile on the third with Dawson on the far back with the Browning machinegun. They had to be careful as to not fall back to fast, that would cause the defense to collapse and the Germans running towards them.

Lile went to take the opening shot. He was the youngest in the squad, and the best marksman too. It was sweet irony at that, much like Thompson's name. It went straight through the Jerry's head with perfection, and he immediately jerked backwards.

"Good shot Lile, now if only you can do that to the tank." Quipped Carson from the next line. Carson was big on his jokes, he was also big on explosives accounting on the amount of grenades he has around his belt. Lile took another shot before the Germans fired back and a second Jerry fell. Mike and Dallas opened up with their Thompson's and sent hot controlled bursts into the Jerry squad. They quickly ran out of ammo on the initial volley and ran back to the end of the line, a 50 meter span.

Dawson was thumping out with the Browning. He gradually backed off after a few rounds so that the Germans wouldn't catch up with him. The second line fell back and Thompson and Andrew followed them back. Of course the fire of five men suddenly dying down would cause the Germans to fire more. This is where Dawson came in. He'll fire onto the Germans with all he's got then and keep their heads down. It was a noble idea, but plans goes down to Hell when war comes running.

---

"Thompson!"

"Damn it Mikey, no!"

"Take that you Jerries, damn you!" Mike threw another grenade while standing over Thompson's body. The Panzer had rolled around the corner when the second and third line pulled back, and it caught all of them out in the open. But by some sick luck, the Panzer shot had landed right under Thompson's feet. His feet was ripped from under him, and the remains of his body flew upwards. Mike went straight to his friend's aid, not caring about his safety.

He stood there like a warrior of ancient days, firing relentlessly to the rows of Germans and their tank. It was heroic while it lasted, but a German bullet caught him on the leg and he fell down on his knees. A couple more bullets stitched him across the chest. He just knelled there for a while, swaying from side to side. It was probably just a few seconds, but to Dallas it lasted a lifetime before he finally fell forwards on his face.

Dallas didn't know what else to do, half of his squad was probably dead, and the rest was hurt to some degree. In all desperation he followed Mike's example and gallantly stepped out into the line of fire. He was about to open up when a loud bang emitted from the back of his position. He thought that the tank had fired again, but when the said tank exploded to bits he looked back to find an anti-tank squad standing there.

He whooped one loud cheer and fired down onto the remaining Germans left standing by the blast.

---

They drove off the Germans. Dallas didn't take the time to join the assault, but went back to check on his squad, mainly Mike. He found him where he laid.

"Damn you Mike, you shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry I wasn't the one who took the tail job, if I was you might be the one standing here instead of me."

"And what good would that do?" A hoarse voice answered.

"Mi- Mike? You're alive?"

"Feels like it."

"God damn it Mike, I thought you died."

"Hahaha, no, not yet."

And with that Mike closed his eyes for the last time. He had just waited to say goodbye to Dallas. Dallas just sat there by his friend, the remains of his squad joining him in mourning.