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| No Resistance | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 26 2009, 05:54 AM (239 Views) | |
| IamSwitch | Jul 26 2009, 05:54 AM Post #1 |
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I havn't posted anything for a long while, and i'm kind of nervous about posting it, because I tend to lose interest/motivation after I do that. But I kinda' like this one, and the ideas I got for it, so I'm gonna' go ahead and try anyway. I don't think many will be too interested. I'll try to explain where I want to go with it, the concept, without giving away any of the story. It's set during the early stages of WW2 (debating how far into it and for how long). It takes place in a small coastal town, wary of the ominous threat of an invading army. I want to go from two different point of views: one from the view point of a young resident of the town and the resistance his friends and family form. That'll be the primary one anyway. I know it's not really to original, but I got some ideas I want to try. So yeah. Oh, and ignore the - things I have in between paragraghs. Oh, and disclaimer thingy : Sorry for any offensive langauge, I don't recall there being any yet, but for the future there very well may be some cursing. And anything else that may be of offense to anyone, I apologize. Meaning to be semi-historically accurate and what not, so nothing is of my own opinion. -----No Resistance----- Silence. An ominous lull fell through the city streets. Not a sound could be heard reverberating off of the brick walls of the buildings lining the cobblestone streets. The steeple bell in the old church tower, the highest point in town, rest motionless. No footsteps, no yelling. No commands, no gunshots. No screaming, no crying. Only silence. It came as a shock, for moments earlier, the sound of war could be heard through the streets of the French city. Guns firing. Bullets ricocheting off of the old, stone walls and street stones. The sounds of chaos. It was a scary prospect, after an early morning firefight, to walk through the dead streets of a war torn town. - The rising sun had yet to cast its light on the lowest levels of the city. The church tower, the tallest buildings, they were livid in beautiful hues of yellows and oranges. On the horizon, the sky was full of the same warm colors that made the buildings so peaceful looking. Farther up, the familiar icy blue of sky and the wispy white of clouds. The streets were still submerged in shadows. A stark contrast that was rapidly disappearing. As the shadows receded, the results of the battle slowly crept into sunlight. Chaos. - Leaning against the cold stones that formed the wall to one of the many low rising houses lining the streets, a young man, maybe 17 years of age, slowly edged his way towards a corner. He held a rifle in his hands. An aging bolt action, it was old enough to have been used by a relative of his during the Great War, over twenty years previous. His clothes were that of a civilian. He was no soldier. His shoes were made cheaply, all that he could afford, and his shirt was ripped and torn with spots of blood soaked into it. A night of crawling through rubble and debris had turned his skin raw. The only form of identification on him was an armband. Resistance. - The air was cold. His breathe was visible as he edged closer and closer to the corner of the building. The nearer he got, the slower he moved. When he could get no closer to the wall's end, he slowly lowered himself down into a crouch. He slowly peaked his head around the bottom of the wall. He quickly drew his head back behind cover. He saw someone. Repeating the action, he confirmed what he had seen. Someone in the shadows at the other end of the street. He squinted his eyes. Whoever it was, they were smoking. He could see the cigarette lit. A gray uniform, he could see it now. The light was just starting to hit his steel helmet. A German. - The boy slowly raised his rifle around the corner. On one knee, he aimed the gun, resting the iron sights on the body of the German soldier who had yet to notice him. He inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. Once the air was expelled from his lungs, he held the rifle steady and started easing back on the trigger. - The German staggered forward as the bullet struck him, reaching out towards the wall, and less then a half a second later, the sound of the rifle that had sent a bullet to end his life reached him. The boy ducked behind the safety of the wall and immediately worked the bolt action rifle, chambering another round ready to fire. He swung back around the corner, letting his entire body be exposed. With the gun pointing at the German soldier, he slowly crept down the street towards his enemy. As he got closer, the German's hand slipped on the wall, and he slid down it, collapsing on to his knees. From there, he fell on to his side, his helmet rolling off his head and into the street. The boy's pace quickened. - He was almost there now. He could tell the man was still breathing. The German gasped for his final breathes and then lay quiet on the cold, damp stones. The boy began scavenging through the soldier's pockets, looking for ammo or intelligence. Anything that could be of use to him and his fellow freedom fighters. His search ending fruitlessly, he stood, shouldering his rifle. As he turned to leave the scene, something struck him in the chest, sending him backwards a couple steps. He heard it then, a gunshot. Down the same street he had just come from, a sniper. He looked down, raising a shaking hand to touch what he saw. Blood was pouring from him. He staggered backwards more, stopping only when his back was against the wall. His legs gave out from under him and he slid down the wall into a sitting position next to the soldier he had shot moments before. - He looked at the dead German, lost in the final thoughts of his life. Lost in his process of dying, he failed to notice the German sniper that had shot him slowly making his way down the street. When he turned his head back in that direction, the sniper had made his way to within ten feet of him. He was just standing there, looking at the boy he had killed. Slowly approaching him, he crouched down, stared the boy directly in the eyes, and began talking. The boy couldn't hear him though, and if he had, he probably wouldn't have understood him. The young resistance fighter was lost in the coldness of his killer's eyes. There was no remorse, no emotion. Just a cold, empty void. As the boy began losing consciousness, the last thought that flashed through his mind was whether or not his eyes had been just as cold when he had approached the man he had shot. He hoped that they were not. - - ------------------------- - - A chilly breeze came through the town off of the ocean. Some people had gathered on the bluff looking out over their coastal town. The younger folks were mostly sad eyed and weary, for news of the war was not good. The enemy was driving closer and closer every day. They had already reached Paris, they were slowly moving towards their quiet seaside town. The older people though, they still smiled. Most of them knew that life was about to get tough, yet through age, they had gained ability to appreciate a beautiful view, and from where they stood, a beautiful view it was. Even in a time of grave misfortune, they remembered to take in everything that is good. The freedom to stand and lookout over their homes for example. It was something that the younger generations had yet to see. - A young woman stood by the edge next to her husband. His arm around her, they gazed out at the sea. It was nearing the time of sunset. One of their children, their six year old daughter, clung to her mothers dress. Being too young to fully understand the circumstances, she was upset only because of the way the adults were acting. “Mother,” She said. “How long are we going to stay standing here?” - “Not long, Darlene.” Her mother told her. “We’ll go home before it gets too cold.” - Her father set his hand on her head smiling. She looked up at him. His skin was tan and beginning to wrinkle with age. His mustache and thinning hair was beginning to gray as well. His eyes were kind though, and they always made Darlene smile. She smiled back up at him, he was quite tall. “How would you like to get some chocolate from the shop before we go home, my little darling?” He asked her. She just smiled more. - “Oh, how you spoil her.” - “I have to while I still can, Danielle.” He smiled at his wife. - “Can we get some chocolate for Lamar too, father?” - “I think your brother will be fine without it.” - Across the town, through the woods, Lamar Demont looked with his friends, Alexandre and Rene, out over the farm fields that they knew would soon be trampled by the vehicles of the approaching Nazi army. They had all been following the news of the enemy’s movement as close as they could, recording every rumor and story. They had heard how the enemy had made its way through Western Europe, the blitzkrieg. Lightning War. They lead the way with their armored tanks, moving quickly, catching their opponents off guard. They knew that eventually, they would reach their small town, and they would occupy it like they had every other town they have come across. They would probably use the town as a lookout for enemy ships off shore, or as part of a secure route along the coast, for easier communications.” “How do we stop tanks?” Alexandre thought out loud. “Our Army isn’t prepared for how they are advancing.” - “We can make bombs.” Rene offered. I’m sure some of the veterans from the Great War can help with that.” - “We don’t know if they will support us in a resistance. They probably think we are all too young.” - “You know, we aren’t much younger then they were when they fought. Alexandre, they would understand, wouldn’t they?” - “I don’t know Rene. Lamar, what do you think? You’re awful quiet today.” - Lamar had not taken his eyes off the horizon. He imagined the atrocities that the invading army could very well be doing to his country men. Those thoughts sickened him and he turned his focus to the conversation. He knew the veterans could swing either way, for they knew what it was like to want to serve and protect your home and your family. But what they also knew was the experience of war and violence, and the fact that they cared about the boys may deter their help. He pondered the question for a moment before replying. “I think we have to be careful of what we ask and to who, and that even if they do assist us, they may not be of any use. The machines of war have changed since when they served their country. Thicker armor, bigger guns. - All three of them stared off into the distance. It really was a beautiful day. They all knew that they would not be able to enjoy them for much longer. - “We should spend some time with our families.” Rene suggested. They nodded in agreement and walked back into town together. They knew that life was going to be hard soon, and that they should spend time with loved ones while they could. Edited by IamSwitch, Jul 26 2009, 06:17 PM.
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| Esaul | Jul 26 2009, 07:02 AM Post #2 |
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OMG! Am I seeing things? Nathan posting another story? YAY! ![]()
Its not it's ![]()
It's being too young, wrong form of to. And I think you mean she was upset, not the. =)
Same as this, wrong form of to. You want too.
There's nothing wrong with that, I just wanted to point out that I love their little dialogue.
There's nothing wrong with the above. I just have a question about blitzkrieg that you may (and I think you can) answer. Is that some kind of plane formation that the Germans used against France going over to England, or am I thinking of something else? I haven't gotten around to reading about WWII just yet. I've been reading WWI from time to time, and I think I'm more interested in that than the Civil War. I know the last time when we talked about the wars, I had told you that the Civil War was my favorite, and my favorite general was Ulysses S. Grant. Well, I've learned so much more since. Like I learned as much as I could about Franz Ferdinand and his assassination attempts. I think it's really interested how there was some sort of attempt as he was drove across town. The driver took a wrong turn, and the guy who was trying to assassinate him stepped out of a store, and by chance saw them, and killed Ferdinand. By far the most interesting thing I've read about the war is Schlieffen's Plan. Anywho, we could probably chat about all of this another time. I just wanted to say welcome back to writing! I want to read more, so keep working on it...or else. >=) |
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| IamSwitch | Jul 26 2009, 06:13 PM Post #3 |
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I'll go through and correct those, thanks for the feedback. I don't think the blitzkreig describes the airpower as much as it did the use of tanks and other armored vehicles. It was a bit different from how wwI was fought. After that war, the French focused on a strong defense, but I think after the germans broke through the initial lines of defense, they were really caught off guard. |
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| Esaul | Jul 26 2009, 06:19 PM Post #4 |
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So was the blitzkreig used as well in WWI as WWII? I think I need to brush up on my history a bit ^_^' |
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| IamSwitch | Jul 27 2009, 03:12 AM Post #5 |
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No, tanks weren't developed enough for that kind of use in the first world war. They were too slow and clunky/unmanueverable. They were used more in support of the infantry, which did the bulk of the fighting. |
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| IamSwitch | Jul 30 2009, 04:43 AM Post #6 |
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I'm going to try to update this every few days. I know the updates won't be much, but I don't want to give myself too much time to lose interest. And I apologize if it's too slow and seems like its written by a heroine junky, I'm not very good but I need to be doing something like this now that school is done. For the last few months, I could like... feel my brain getting slower So heres what I have put together in the last few days. (Not really doing chapters) ____________ “Lamar, we went and got chocolate yesterday and you didn’t get any because you weren’t with us.” Darlene had woken up and come down stairs to find her brother eating an early breakfast. “Why aren’t you ever around anymore?” - He smiled at her. “I have been working very hard, sister.” - “You have been working hard on what?” - “Darlene, leave your brother alone.” Their father had finished his usual early morning activities and had come inside the house through the back door, which lead into the kitchen. “He has been working on important adult matters with his friends. Now what would you like for breakfast?” - As his father bustled around the kitchen, preparing his sister’s breakfast, Lamar went over his plans for the day in his head. He would walk through town, taking the long way to the place where he would meet up with Alexandre and Rene. From there they would discuss what needed to get done to prepare before the enemy army arrived. Then they would probably scout around the town and take note of any defendable locations, possible avenue of advance, and they would try to find a place to store some supplies. - “Are you taking off soon, son?” His father asked. - “Yes.” - “Be careful.” - It was getting colder. Lamar left his home pondered for a moment whether or not the chill was the air or the knowledge that he and his friends would soon be engulfed in war. The thought of his small, warm and friendly hometown occupying weapons and machines of death scared him, and he knew it scared other people as well. Some just weren’t ready to admit it. - He left his front yard, closing the wooden gate behind him. Its paint was starting to chip off of it. It would need to be redone soon. The street his house was on was at the edge of town. There were not too many other homes on it. As he made his way closer to the main street of town, more and more buildings got closer together. The main street ran parallel to the ocean, nothing but a small white fence and a narrow beach between them. On the opposite side of the main street was a series of shops and restaurants. It was usually a crowded place, but today it was unusually quiet. - He crossed over the street, hopped the fence and walked right up to the edge of the water. The sea came in and out, barely touching the tips of his shoes. He closed his eyes, taking in the sound of the waves and the smell of salt in the air. It sounded rougher then it did normally, a sign of a storm later that day. He looked out at the horizon. The sky was not quite blue. It was more of a light grey. There was definitely a storm coming in. - He began his journey down the beach, following the store front. He’d walk a mile or so until he came to a small shack on the beach that used to be part of a boat dock. The remnants of the dock went out into the water for a short distance. Most of it had collapsed though, leaving the wooden planks and beams sticking out of the water at all sorts of odd angles and directions. They had set up some chairs around an old table they found years ago. The shack had been one of their childhood hangouts. Soon it would be a hideout. - Alexandre was already there when Lamar arrived. He stood at the edge of the sea, next to the rotting remainder of the dock, lost in thought. He seemed strangely startled when Lamar spoke. “You’re here early. I usually have to wait for you and Rene.” - Alexandre turned, facing his friend. “I couldn’t sleep well last night.” He turned back to the dock. “Do you remember when we were young, before the dock collapsed?” - Lamar smiled. “Yes. Simpler times, were they not?” - Alexandre was quiet. - “Alexandre, something is wrong, and it isn’t the war.” Lamar knew Alexandre. They had been best friends since nearly the days they were born. It has been nineteen long years. “If you need to talk…” - Alexandre cut him off. “It is the war. We have less time than we thought we did to prepare.” - “What do you mean?” - “I said I couldn’t sleep well last night, right? Well, I ended up taking a walk into town. I went into the bar, just to see if I could here anything from anybody about the Germans. They aren’t far.” - Lamar walked to his side and stared out at the churning waters. A fine mist sprayed the both of them and for a moment, Lamar was lost in the memories of his past. “How long do we have?” - “Days.” - “Hey guys.” Rene arrived. He was a couple years younger than them, though he tried not to make it obvious. “What is up?” They both turned to look at him. Their faces said it all, and he didn’t need much of an explanation. - They entered the shack to discuss and plan their actions. So far they had set up several hidden locations around the town, stocking them with food and ammo. All of their supplies had been given to them by the town’s people. Many of them were supportive of their plans, a few planned to join them when they could, but some of them frowned upon it. They thought it would only bring suffering to the people. The boys knew it was a reasonable risk, but they loved their town and their country too much to just sit back while the enemy did god knows what. They had heard stories about brutal and random acts of violence carried out against civilians, and that was something they couldn’t stand the thought of. - They sat in that shack all day, discussing possible scenarios, planning escape routes and ways into town. The brain stormed possible locations the enemy would try to take advantage of and what they would use those places for. They talked about how best to assault those positions, how to get close and surprise them. The came up with all sorts of what-ifs and tried to think of ways around them. They retold stories from the Great War they had heard from parents and relatives. - After hours of talking, they left the shack, sitting down at the table they had set up. The sky had gotten darker due to the oncoming storm and they took note of it. “That doesn’t look friendly.” Rene commented. - Lamar thought about it and then mentioned how they would have to use the weather and the night’s darkness to their advantage once they started fighting. Rene was worried about that. “How are we supposed to fight if we can’t see?” - Alexandre explained. “If we have are hard time seeing them, then it’s going to be damn hard for them to see us. We have the advantage. We know the streets, the town.” - The clouds were getting closer. - “So,” Lamar said. “We just need to decide on one thing now, I think. How long do we wait after they arrive to start the fight?” - Everyone was quiet for a long time. They all watched the rolling waves and the thunderous clouds in the distance. - Alexandre spoke. “We’ll wait long enough to see what we are up against, to make sure we really want to do this.” - “Do we have a choice?” Lamar asked. - “Of course we do.” Rene quickly said. “We always do!” - “It depends on what kind of person you are.” Alexandre finished that conversation. “We won’t know what kind of people we are until we are looking down the business end of a German rifle.” - Lamar smiled momentarily until he looked at Rene, whose face had quickly turned very pale. He glanced at Alexandre and he knew he was wondering the same thing: How they would actually react when the firing started. |
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