*Disclaimer. This chapter portrays period racism towards Asian Americans including the use of a derogatory term. No harm is meant to be caused to America's Asians who I consider to be rightful citizens.*

Sicily

July 10 1943

3:00 AM.

Hunter dropped into the Higgins boat with a slight stumble as the small craft bobbed on the water. "Careful, Wittebane. Don't wanna knock someone in the Gonads." An Italian American joked. Hunter couldn't help but chuckle as he gained his footing and leaned on the hull. "Oh trust me, Romano. I know full well what it's like to take one of these steel caps to the balls."

Then another G.I. dropped in. This time a Mexican. "The hell are you two pendejos on about?"

"Oh y'know, just reminiscing about the time you rammed your head into my into my crotch." Hunter said.

"Hey the instructor told us to fight dirty alright? I was only following his orders." The Chicano defended himself. "But he never said to make someone infertile, Iglesias." Hunter said back.

"Save your grudges for later" Another voice cut in. The three looked ahead to see their Captain Jacob Albert. "Right now we've got a job to do, and the only enemies we have right now are the Krauts and Italians. So don't waste your breath on something that happened in basic." He ordered firmly.

The three privates replied in unison. "Yes, sir."

Hunter leaned out of the boat to get a better look at the rest of the fleet. He saw a battleship fire all of it's main guns, and he followed the shell's through the air before they landed behind the Sicilian beaches creating plooms of fire. "Think they can survive that?" Hunter asked nobody in particular. "If the first war was anything to go by, then they probably did." Romano said with a hint of grim.

The boat then suddenly jolted forward as it's motor started up. It then turned to port and towards the the beaches alongside a fleet of landing craft.

Hunter then felt a man poke on his shoulder from behind. Hunter turned his head to see the familiar freckled face of private Murphy. "You feeling alright, Wittebane?"

"I'm doing okay. You got any prayers?"

"Yes I do, you can join if you like." The ginger offered. "Certainly."

Murphy then placed his hand on Hunter's shoulder and closed his eyes while holding a crucifix.

"Praise be the Lord my rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle." Hunter joined in as he began to remember how the prayer went. "He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge, who-"

The two were cut off as an explosion went off on the starboard side, rocking the boat back and forth. "Everybody down!" Albert yelled. The platoon and crew ducked as artillery rounds continued to go off around them.

Then they heard this whirring noise come in from above, it got louder, and louder, it was became loud enough to where the men could point it out as a siren. They looked up, and realized that there were enemy planes coming down on them. Then a whistling noise was heard, and the planes began moving away, before a craft next to theirs exploded.

Hunter stared in horror at the sight, he could hear the remaining men screaming in agony as the craft sank beneath the waves. A hand then grabbed his head and pulled him down. "Stayed focused, Wittebane!" Romano yelled. The teen quickly nodded his head as his hands trembled. Then bullets began ricocheting off the front of the boat. The two gunners returned fire to try and give the army men some cover. "Clear the ramp! Thirty seconds!" The driver yelled.

Captain Albert then turned to his men. "Remember to spread out and book it! If you're lollygagging then you're dead so keep pushing! I'll see you at the top boys!" He then turned back to face the ramp.

Hunter took several deep breaths as he tried to hold his nerves. He couldn't panic, not in his first battle, he had to stay focused. Hunter then heard the ramp begin to open up and land in the shallow water. "Move!" The captain yelled. The platoon charged out the boat running through the water and onto the sand. Hunter could see where they'd landed. The beach was short and immediately led to a steep rocky hill that he'd have to climb. Then he saw muzzle flashes from rifles and machine guns. Dozens of men were cut down and mortar rounds sent several others into the air in pieces.

Hunter felt a shower of blood fall on him, but ignored it and kept running. His platoon had been split up and he couldn't see any of his squad mates. He ran into a rock and huddled against it. Several men did the same as they ducked from the incoming fire.

"Come on we can't sit here, we've gotten keep moving!" A Sergeant yelled. He then he ran up the rocks while Hunter followed right behind him.

Then the sergeant was cut to ribbons before Hunters eyes and fell backwards. The boy jumped to the ground and backed his way down the rocks. Then his foot hit another soldier in the face as he pulled back. "The hell's wrong with you man!?" The soldier complained. Hunter looked to see that the other G.I.'s he'd seen were still behind him and hadn't moved as far.

"Had to pull back. There's a machine gun up there."

"Well then you better deal with it because we can't stay here!"

Hunter nodded. "Right." He then began crawling his way back up the rocks to where the Sgt had been killed. He picked his head up ever so slightly and was immediately forced back down by gunfire. But he saw what he needed. There was one Mg-34 manned by two, and a pair of rifleman. Hunter then shimmied a little further down to a more safe spot. He then pulled a grenade from his chest and pulled the pin. He made quick calculations on how hard to throw and released the handle. "One, two..."
He then heaved it and ducked.

*BOOM*

Hunter could hear the yells of the enemy soldiers over the explosion and he jumped up with his rifle drawn. The Italians were bloodied and disoriented but could still fight if given the chance. Hunter fired into them finishing the job.

For a moment, he stood and stared at his bloody work while the men behind him rushed their way up. "Could job buddy." One of them complimented. But Hunter didn't pay attention, instead he looked at the faces of the men he'd killed. Instead of the stone cold fascists he'd scene in those posters and films, these men looked, just like any other joe on the street, some he'd know from back in America, like on of the guys from his platoon.

Then he slapped himself. He couldn't think like that. He still had work to do. He continued to run his way up the rocks, but was forced to holster his rifle as the hill became steeper, and he had to start climbing. He pulled his way over the top alongside the others and saw a mound of dirt behind a row of barbed wire. A trench line. Hunter internally panicked until he realized that he could neither here or see anybody. Which means that they'd likely vacated during the bombardment. He then began crawling his way below the wire and towards the trench where his theory was confirmed. He dropped into the trench and pointed his rifle down both paths as the other soldiers joined in, seven overall. 

"Anybody know who's in charge?"

Everybody turned to the man who'd asked it. It was an Asian man with an American accent, and he just so happened to be a corporal in a crowd of privates. "Guess I am." The man sighed. Hunter could help but smirk at his predicament. "Alright, there's a bunker just west of here, and they ain't letting our boys up, so we head there and take it out. Questions?"

"The hell is a jap doing in the American Army?" One man asked glaring at the corporal.

"I'm Korean." The corporal corrected. "The hell's the difference?"

"The difference is that I'm not raping half of Asia. Now are we gonna sit here and argue or do our job?"

The soldier decided not to press further. "Good, now let's get moving."

"I'll take point." Hunter volunteered. The corporal nodded. "I'll be right behind you."

Hunter lead the makeshift squad down the winding jagged path of the trench line, the figure of a bunker was scene. Then Hunter turned another corner and saw a squad of Italian soldiers staring right at him. Hunter panicked and fired off to rounds killing one man. His rifle pinged as he took cover behind the trench wall.

"How many did you see?" The corporal asked from the opposite wall. "Around twelve I think, got one of them." He loaded another clip. "I'll try and get a grenade in there." Hunter then removed another grenade from his harness and pulled the pin. He peeked from his cover then pulled back when the Italians started shooting at him. He then let go of the handle and quickly threw the grenade at the enemy.

The explosion caused the whole trench to vibrate. Hunter peeked again from behind cover and saw no Italians and no dead bodies. Then the enemy troops returned and opened fire on him again forcing the teen back into cover.

"Shit." He cursed under his breath.

"Think you can throw over?" The corporal asked. "I don't think so, I don't have any good visual." Hunter responded. Then a thought entered his head.

"I've got an idea." Hunter said. "Let's here it."

"I'll get out of the trench and crawl to their end, then I can chuck a grenade right into them."

"You sure? Because I guarantee that there are still Italians further inland who'd be more than happy to blow your head off." The corporal said.

"I can handle it. Besides, I doubt anybody could see someone crawling in this darkness."

"Hmmm, alright, get moving."

"Yes, sir." Hunter then threw his rifle out of the trench then crawled his way up along with it. He kept himself on the ground, grabbed his rifle, and started crawling forward. He was right next to the hillside where he just crawled from and thus forced to go over the body of an American soldier who's face had been caved in by a rifle round, the blonde had to force the vomit back down. He then saw the helmets of the Italians and knew that he was in the right spot. He rolled onto his back and pulled off another grenade. He pulled the pin, let go of the handle, counted to three, then lightly tossed the grenade into the trench. Before anyone could even notice it, the grenade exploded in the air sending shrapnel directly into the faces of six Italians while lightly wounding the other five soldiers who were left dazed.

Hunter then got up into a kneeling position and fired into the trench killing three more while his allies began moving through the trench and killing the rest of the Italians.

Hunter hopped back into the trench getting small comments from his compatriots.

"Nice one."

"Good job buddy."

"Nice thinking." The last one came from the corporal who gave Hunter a small smirk. The two advanced through the trench side by side, weapons drawn and pointed firmly forward, waiting to encounter an more assailants.

They eventually reached the bunker. Hunter ran to the steel door and tried moving the large handle, but to no avail. "Locked from the inside."

"Then get up to the window and blast them out." The corporal ordered.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll go around the right side, you take the left."

Hunter nodded and jumped back out of the trench next to the bunker. He pulled his final grenade from his chest and repeated the same process, pull, let go, count, throw. The grenade flew through the window and exploded, which was followed by another one, likely from the corporal on the other side. The screaming lasted only for a second and was quickly replaced with quiet painful moaning. Hunter moved back into the trench being met by the corporal again.

"What's next." Hunter asked.

"We hold here until we can get some reinforcements, I doubt a single squad is enough to push back the entire Italian army."

"You got it."

The group went to the side opposite from the bunker and pointed their weapons out into no man's land.

"By the way, I never caught your name." The corporal asked.

"Private. Hunter Wittebane."

"Corporal. Richard Park. Pleasure to meet you."

"Richard Park? Didn't expect a gook to have that kind of name."

"Well, this particular gook happened to grow up in Los Angeles to a Catholic family."

"Heh, well at least you have God on your side."

"I hope we all do."

A/N: Sorry for the long wait and shorter chapter, writers block is an ass. And again, I cannot stress this enough, I have nothing against Asian Americans, the racism portrayed in this is just because of the time period. Actually, one of the new OC's is a direct homage to Richard Park in L.A. who is famous for being one of the many rooftop Koreans of the Rodney King riots who used their constitutional rights to defend their community, families, and livelihood's.

With that out of the way, always remember to tune in next time folks! Somewhat same bat channel! Somewhat same bat time!