Murphy's Rangers 2.Massacre by Eric Meyer

Author:Eric Meyer [Eric Meyer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swordworks
Published: 2021-11-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

19 June 1944

Washington looked like his whole world had collapsed around him. He was tough and he was clever, but he hadn’t been trained to deal with this situation. To be trapped in a dark, almost airless hole deep underground beneath the Normandy battlefields, with no way out. They couldn’t go forward, and they couldn’t go back, leaving them with a single option. To stay there and die, gasping out their last.

Murphy didn’t have the weight of command on his shoulders, but he had something maybe the Captain didn’t have. Back in his hometown of Whitefish, Montana, he’d trained to rescue people. Okay, maybe not from holes in the ground. He’d been a member of the local Mountain Rescue, and he’d learned early on that saving life was paramount, and you didn’t give up until all hope had gone. And even then, some men didn’t give up. He was one such man.

“I’ll go up there and find out what’s going on. There has to be a way, Captain.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, but he didn’t look convinced. Murphy began to slide past the Rangers squashed into the tunnel, squeezing past the men, snagging on rifles and equipment. He left his precious MP-40 and the Springfield before he went further, knowing he’d never get through if they snagged on the tunnel walls. When he reached the civilians, they were close to desperation, and the panic was like a thick fog swirling around them. They were in a bad way, and if they didn’t find a way out fast, they’d die even quicker as panic caused them to gulp in more oxygen, depleting the little they had left.

He fought his way to the front, and Kelly was there, stabbing at the thick earth with his combat knife. He nodded to Murphy. “I don’t think there’s any way through, but if they think we’re going somewhere, they may not panic so fast.”

He kept his voice low, so they didn’t overhear him, and it made sense. He looked at the blockage, and at first sight, there didn’t seem to be any hope. A solid wall of earth had fallen into the tunnel, and it could extend for a few feet or a few hundred feet. There was no way to know. He took the flashlight and played around the edges, attempting to find any indication of the length of the blockage. He looked at the sides, looked at the floor, and it was solid, packed earth and rock. He played the beam over the roof, and at first, he saw nothing. The second look, and still nothing.

Yet maybe he was wrong. There was something there, a dark shadow, and he put his head closer and found it was a fissure in the solid wall of earth and rock. He drew his combat knife and stabbed at the earth, and as it came away, the fissure widened. There was something there, a narrow gap, but he couldn’t tell how much of a gap. Maybe inches,

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