Teardrop - Operation Overlord

War ruins the man inside and out. Death comes close every time a shot has been fired. At whom though? The righteous or the evil ones? It is proven much difficult for one side to sympathise with the other without crossing the line. But what happens within...?

He sat comfortably behind a rock barrier along the cliff edge. At night, the Germans counterattacked on Pointe Du Hoc and the survivors of the 2nd and 5th Ranger battalions held ground till noon two days later. Fighting on Normandy soil continued like this, and many lives leading up to this were lost. As much of Operation Overlord, things were not looking well as thought.

He conjured a picture of his radiant wife and two children, slowly retracting his arm forward into the air as if he could touch them. The contemplation was silent and frightening, despite the ear-popping gunfire and heavy artillery. He feared he could lose himself and never see them again. Why did he join the army? To serve his country of course, but to what cost? He clenched his hand and affixed his picture to a skull, and seemed to crush it. He did not personally hate those Germans, but he hated the fact war had a permanent cost of sacrificing love and life only to win. The number of casualties even today was unimaginable. His close friends in the field suddenly disappeared like dust in the wind.

Private Jack Clark of U.S. 5th Rangers Battalion took a small glimpse over the rock. The gunfire exploded back into reality, a bullet narrowly missing his ear. He ducked down once again, holding his rifle tightly. He had two decisions each second, stay put and observe at least two enemy positions or blindly open suppressive fire, each risking to take that bullet directly. He took the first, again quickly glimpsing the minute flashes before realising one fires at him.

They shot his upper left arm, rupturing the Rangers' logo at least half off the suit. Private flinched backwards. He almost fell down had he not grasp the distinctive corner of the rock. His eyes told the rest of the story - his internal pain and fear of surviving more firefight. He wished to see his own family. He had to see them. He had no choice but to kill to survive. Do nothing and you're dead anyway when they move closer. He built the best of his bravery up, stood and opened fire.

"For my family." Time stood still as Jack's bullet left the gun. A sudden teardrop descended and shattered on the rough ground. The droplets appeared like four broken images of a family photo.


Before the war, in 1934, Jack had his first born son, Mike. At heart, he was an eager, playful and almost ever-loving child a parent could have. Over the years before the birth of his younger sister, Mike huddled tightly with his pillow over the fear of his first year at school. Under the roof of his small, blue-painted room beside a wide rectangular window to the busy streets of East Virginia, Mike held back. The only thing he appreciated were the wooden boats and soldiers he played in the center of the room. Father Jack coughed up several coins and examined whether all was worth the tuition for the coming year. It wasn't.

The inheritance gifted by his father was left to his more "trustworthy sister". Over the past decades, Jack blundered hundreds of dollars by damaging valuable property by accident. Almost all of them covered up by his sister, Rita, yet she was recognized for her knowledge. Rita now worked as a teacher further up North, so it became impossible to contact her from the East Coast. As a genetic klutz, Jack felt his clumsiness had to be disciplined by a decent job, to avoid damaging more valuables, or perhaps people.

In 1939, the government opened up army recruitment since the invasion of Manchuria, China. Jack took the chance. To make up for lack of funds and his family embarrassment, hard tense work should frame Jack properly as he hoped. His first salary earned Mike the school life, no matter how hard he wished not to be in. Occurrences of household accidents significantly reduced because of Jack's training, and he was able to raise up Selena, his newborn daughter, part time. Within three years, they moved to a larger house inland, but Mike never left his school - he now liked it.

Every weekend, Mike would secretly visit that same blue room he was cared for in the past. That now-abandoned house drew back the old memories of his wooden toys and that living scene by the rectangular window. 7-year-old Mike cried for the old days when he couldn't stand leaving his loving mother and funny-acting father to school. Tears rolled from his small innocent eyes and fell to the large shadow of his father.

"Hello, Mike, your mother and I were worried when you couldn't get home early."

Mike hugged his father and said, "Why are you leaving, papa? Why leave home and not be with me and mum?" Tears continued to flow from his eyes, though it didn't strike one in his father's.

"It's my job now, son. The USA entered war and they're calling every soldier to help Britain. I promise I'll get home soon. You know what? I'll take you with me on the quay before I board that ship... I get to see you and Selena one more time..."

It was that fateful day - the send-off.


Jack's tears no longer flowed. Several holes in his chest. A drop of blood fell and engulfed one of the four broken pieces of his shattered tear.
"For Mike..." he thought. Before him he saw flashes from every direction. No, not from those damned guns, but from what he feared the most - the nightmare he could never escape from.


In early 1942, 20000 East Virginian soldiers were called to board alongside ships designated to assist Britain in the Second World War. Jack Clark saw ahead camera flashes as he walked with his son on the edge of the pier towards his ship. He was giving his son a piggy-back ride, the first-class view of crowds cheering for the soldiers' exit. Hats and confetti flew up to the sky, beside gliding planes and motivational banners and flags. The air was filled with excitement, and the colours of the scene mixed up into one masterpiece. Mike was happy, though crushed by the fact his father would leave the family for the war. This was the best chance Jack could give to him ultimately before his departure.

But everything changed so suddenly. The large crowds pressed further towards the pier, desperately trying to interview each and every soldier as they could not be held back. The closer crowds were fanatic, inching closer to get hold of their star-struck dream. Jack had to step towards the edge to avoid them touching the son, until it happened. When he thought his clumsiness disappeared, it violently came back.


Jack slipped and fell backwards from the cliff face. While falling, he was still in the deep depths of his tragic memory as it played horribly like a never-ending record of hymns and lamentations. When his limp body struck the ground, the contents of his backpack spilled and became crushed under his weight. He realised that same devastating and excruciating pain came from their fall that day...


Mike held on as hardest as he could, struggling to breathe and screamed at the top of his lungs. Jack tried hard to turn around and land face first to avoid hurting his son on impact. But he couldn't - he was too confused by shouts of surprise and agony, and couldn't think straight on how to fight the fall. But alas, it was over. There was no pain from hitting the floorboards of the pier below the quays, and a sudden horrible thought entered Jack's mind. Mike?!

Jack quickly recovered and kneeled to examine his pale son. The crowds of people overcame the forces and peered down from the quay wall. Several soldiers immediately ran down the concrete stairwell to the aid of the duo. Jack held his bleeding son close to his face, palms over the sides of his head. The pain came back, and he screamed. Selena and his radiant wife broke down crying. But the soldiers arrived, and took his dead son away from him. Jack didn't resist, but punched straight beyond the boards in agony. His tears fell bitterly, towards the water below his splintered fist. It was my entire fault... Mike never did anything wrong to deserve this... I-I must... I must...


"...see my Mike and family again." Jack's lips were dried and were about to give way from the screeching of pain. Tears began flowing from the corners of his eyes like a waterfall. He no longer had the strength to sit up, let alone to stand. His world began to fade, and his memories too. The only thing he could remember now was that single blue room where Mike was raised up in. That rectangular window became his horizon in the sky, the bustling streets of East Virginia, being watched carefully to spot any cars beside a Ford T-Model.

Loud explosions interrupted the daydream. He had the mere strength of turning his head upwards, an upside down view of the sunset sea. He could see artillery fire from the Allied vessels arriving towards the shore. They finally came to help the Rangers wipe out the Germans from Pointe Du Hoc site... But he didn't care whose side he was on. He thought whatever mattered was that it ended the war quickly, so that no more people be hurt, especially by accident or killing intent.

"I'm coming home, Mike... as promised..."

Many soldiers came to help Jack, but his conciousness slowly faded to nothing. His pulse disappeared, and his skin also turned pale as the sand he fell onto. From then on, Jack's family and Rita kept him and Mike closely in their hearts. At the end of the war in 1945, they celebrated - Jack's clumsy fatherhood with his closest son was over.




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