Nnnnnnnnnnnext!

So, where were we?Ah, yes,we started a new story, didn't we? But first, before we could continue, I would like to ask you all to go to Moose McMuffin's blog: the Mooseyest blog ever. Look it up on Google or something. I would also like you to go to my other friend's blog, but I can't remember wat it was called... the life and times of a ginger and a blargapuss or something like that... well, at least look up those words, will you, please? If you do, ur awesome. But if not: GO TO HELL!!! Thanks, I would sure appreciate it. So... back to the story...

Lieutenant John Fiche was the leader of a platoon. He and his platoon were in charge of an island, Brent island. It held a major key to the American victory, and if it was taken by the enemy, it would be a complete disaster to all of the allied forces, and would allow Hitler's armies to march all over the world. It was located in the Mediterranean, a small little place just off of the African coast. He and his 29 men were preparing for a german attack of the southern coast (A.K.A. the sandy side of the island, the one closer to the shore, with less strong flowing water) of the island. He and his men had artillery set up to take down the enemy landing crafts, and they had large amounts of cover set up along the beach. They also had dug foxholes and mortar pits in strategic locations. They had snipers covering the rest of the men, and the two bazooka men were hidden with a full view of the beach and some more, in case of heavy vehicles or artillery. The lookout man had a full view of the island in case of sneak attacks, and sice he was on the top of the mountain, he had a radio man with them. They were ready for anything.