A/N: God. I will still work on my other story, but I've recently played Brothers in Arms Hells Highway. WAR. WAR VIOLENCE. GORE. LANGUAGE. SHUT THE FUCK UP IF YOU DONT LIKE.

Bulletproof Matthew Baker. Nicknamed that because of his seemingly invulnerability to bullets. On Normandy, he was hit by a tank shell. Suffering only bloody bruise across his forehead. But the emotional toll on him was unbearable. After watching a Pvt Kevin Legget get torn in half by a shell, as he lay helplessly on the ground, affected him in ways unimaginable by the average person. His dead, cold eyes could still be seen peering at him. He had to tuck that in the back of his mind, as at the moment he was sprinting through a hospital, armed only with his M1911 Pistol. Nicknamed the death pistol, a gift from his father. Benjamin had died holding it, along with Allen and Garrett. He and 'Red' as his best friend was nicknamed, due to his red hair, were in a hospital in Holland, during Operation Market Garden. Jogging into a room, Baker heard a whistling sound, and he looked up to the sky. A mortar shell burst through the roof of the glass ceiling, and was held only on a thread of steel. Baker fell to the floor, stunned by the force of the mortar breaking through glass. Three German soldiers came into his point of view, one holding a Luggar, and the two other holding MP40's. Raising a shaky hand, he aimed his pistol at them. Red ran into the room. Three shots were fired.

A couple days earlier...


Baker walked with Franky, the new recruit.

"...And he said I didn't look 18!"

Baker smiled at recruit. "You don't."

"Yeah yeah...Well, hey can you talk to Corrion for me?"

"Sam? What for?"

"He seems to have it in for me."


"Hey Jas, I need you to get some paint." Red said.

"Sure. I'll steal some paint for you sergeant."

"Requisition. Private."

Red walked over to there jeep, and saw Jasper wandering around with paint.



Jasper walked over to Red, and set the paint on the ground.

"You have no idea what I had to do to get this."

Corrion, and Cortland walked over by the jeep.

"Whats the paint for?"

" Were the tip of the spear. We need to look sharp."

"Can't we get in trouble for that?"

"Well, we all got radio call signs."

"Or to get the Germans scared from our scary zoo animals. Scheisse! Ein Zebra!"

"Hey, the zebra is a fierce animal."

"Hey, a spear fish is plenty scary! One time my friend Nathan got stabbed through the arm with its...Is it a beak?"

"Toucan. Hey, they'll peck your damn eyes out man."

Baker raised his M1 Grand and shot several rounds at the nearby German MG en placements. Hearing the tell-tale 'ping' from his gun, he pulled the charging handle and inserted the en-bloc clip into the weapon. Peeking from his cover, he saw an overturned, metal table. Motioning for his Base of Fire team and Assault Team to provide covering fire, he called to his two other teams.


Jasper sprinted towards the table, along with Conner, and lifted up the MG. Spurting rounds, Baker motioned to his two other teams to move up. Baker took a grenade from his ammo pouches, and threw it. Several Germans scrambled from there positions, some being torn in half from the grenades shrapnel, others being dropped from Jasper's Browning machine gun. Baker got up, and sprinted from his cover. Ordering his squad to follow him, they advanced up the slippery, rainy roads, there fingers almost slipping off there guns. Baker, and Zanovich, took a high cover position on a small shack. Peering from his cover, he saw a Panzer Tank. Screaming at his squad to take cover, fearing the Panzer might blow them to smithereens. Suddenly, an explosion tore through the gloomy streets. An Allied Tank approached, and the tank commander, Dickinson, rose through the hatch.

"Ah, the airborne. Listen, We've been trying to link up with our boys in the thirty." He said, voice heavy with a Scottish accent.

"Krauts been making it bloody hard getin there. Eh, think you can cover us down the road?"

Baker nodded.


Baker slammed down onto the ground. Smoke filled through the small bread shop they were in. A soldier stumbled out the door, holding onto his neck. Corrion rushed through the door, and found Baker on the floor.

"God, Baker, come on, come on, get up. Jesus Baker, your face."

Setting him against the jeep, Corrion sprinted into the cafe again.

Somewhere close by, Paddock held Marsh against the ground, seeing his blood filled face.

"Come on Marsh. Come on. Come on..."

Rosseli just looked on.


"Red..I know you can here me Red. I want you to try to breath. Come on Red."

One nearby soldier walked up to him.

"Its not worth it.."

"SHUT UP! Come on Red. Try to breath."

Getting angry, he slammed both his fists on Red's stomach.


Red coughed up blood.

Every time. Every time I've asked take me, not them. But no one's listening. Its always, them. Not me. Franky was just a kid. These men didn't have to die. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But no one listens.

A/N: YEAH. BITCHES IM JUST TESTING MY SKILLS AT THIS. I will still update my other story's. Shit son, just because someone makes another story doesn't mean there gonna say 'Fuck that other shit.' NO FLAMES. This was just a test.