This is a story in progress. It's based upon the experiences of Adolf Dieter, a sniper of the 352nd Infantry division.]

A light rain fell on the sands of what was to become one of the bloodiest battlegrounds in history. Adolf Dieter of the 352nd Infantry Division lifts his head out of his foxhole and above the sandbags. The foxhole was freshly dug. Adolf had only hours before emerged from the bunker to his right after the aerial bombardment by the allies. Now he lay prone, looking through his scope and waiting, waiting for the Americans. Suddenly through his scope he spots a small ship, it was a landing craft. Upon looking left and right he sees scores more of them. He turns to the soldier beside him. < The Americans are here. > He says calmly nodding towards the water. The man takes off in a crouching run towards the bunker.
Minutes later the artillery opens fire. Adolf watches as fountains of water go up around the craft; several of the craft themselves were hit. They sink and he watches as Americans struggle to stay afloat. Slowly but surely the landing craft get closer, some unloading their loads yards away from shore. The Americans drop all their gear and swim ashore. Adolf raised his rifle and inserts it into a small hole in the sand bags. Lowering his head he looks through the scope at a American struggling onto the shore. Remembering his training he aims slightly above the man’s head. Emptying his lungs he softly squeezes the trigger.
The man’s head jerked back, reddish spray exploding from the back of it, the man's body stumbles spastically for four more steps before falling. Adolf coldly extracts the old round and chambers a new one before looking through the scope again. He sights another American, this one crawling. The bullet goes right down the man’s spine. Adolf works like a machine, he extracts the old round and chambers a new one before firing again. He has no compassion, shows no emotion at what he’s doing. Off to his right he hears the heavy chattering of an MG42, he sees a whole unit of soldiers get wiped out as the landing craft put down it’s ramp. One American crawls over his comrades; Adolf ends his misery with a shot that shatters the man’s skull. The man's appendages twitch for several second before he lies still.
There are more landing craft now. More than the artillery can keep up with. The chatter from the MG42’s is continuous now. Adolf kills an American firing a submachine gun at his sandbags, with a bullet through his throat. He sits back against the sandbags and pulls out a small notebook from his pocket and a pencil. There are two pages filled of tally marks, Adolf adds five more tallies. He then goes about reloading his rifle. He’s not concerned about the Americans and takes his time…

[The chapter isn't finished yet, I'm just posting what I have thus far. I'm not even sure how long this is going to end up being. This was a spur of the moment thing, inspiration just hit. If anyone can find slang terms that the Germans had for the Americans, it would be much appreciated. Also, feel free to give constructive criticism.]

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You mean this sniper?Or is this someone else...?
http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/87095

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My own creation.

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Looks good Tuor. Hope to see more soon.

[More of the story.]

Finally turning back around and peering through his scope Adolf sees the Americans scattered about the beach. Many run back to the shore taking cover behind the tanks traps. The artillery still fires, but for every landing craft sunk three more land. Although most GI's getting off the craft are slain, 5 out of 20 survive. The numbers begin to show. Adolf chuckles at the disorganization of the Americans. Suddenly he spots a man yelling orders. He has three chevrons on his shoulder, the men rally about him and advance up the beach. A fellow sniper in a more exposed position fires and slays a GI. The man's comrades shower the position in bullets and Adolf sees the fellow sniper tumble from the cliff. Adolf glances through his scope, it's a long shot. The officer is farther down the beach, about 700 meters away. Adolf props the rifle up on one of the sand bags along the side of the foxhole. He also supports the rifle with his left forearm as he aims. There is a slight breeze blowing from right to left. Adolf aims six feet to the left of the officer and 3 feet above him. Breathing all the air out of his lungs he slowly pulls the trigger. The bullet spirals through the air dropping three and a half feet as the officer walks up the beach. The man is shouting orders as the bullet arrives. The bullet drives itself downward through the bottom of the man's mouth and into his chest, coming out of the left side of the officer's chest. He slumps to the ground like a sack of wet clothes. The Americans fire randomly at the bluffs before scattering back to the tank traps.

[The next installment should be the end of the first chapter]

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