Flying High | Collins (Dunkirk)

8.

       I was frozen in the channel water. My limbs could hardly move as his body floated there lifeless. Blood spread everywhere, staining my white button-up. Men were swimming all around me. I was utterly lost in the sea of panic. My chest was heaving. Is this how I die?

        Someone grabbed my shoulder. I feared it was someone else who wanted to try and drag me down. I spun around in the water, prepared to swing my arms "Alice" Collins said my name, pulling me towards him.

        I wrapped my arms over his shoulders and pressed myself to him "I- I thought you were dead, Arthur- he's... I" I couldn't even form words as tears fell from my eyes. The bomb landed and exploded at the back of the boat where he was.

        His body flew through the air. Arthur was dead. After everything he did to me, said to me, it still hit me hard knowing he was gone. He was my first love, but also my first heartbreak.

        "Relax, darling. There's another boat. We have to get there. We can't stay in the water, it's not safe" he said soothingly, placing his hand over my cheek. The stinging from Arthurs slap had completely vanished. Collins kept his arm around me and together we swam for the closest boat.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, staying afloat.

        He gripped my vest to keep me above the water even thought I could swim. I didn't bother to question it "No, I'm alright. Just a little wet, and you?"

        We reached the nearby boat, it was Mr. Dawson and his son Peter. More men were making their way to the boat as well. Collins made sure that I was in front. The man with emerald eyes was already on board, he extended his hand to me and pulled. Collins gripped my legs and helped me onto the boat. He climbed on after me.

        "Thank you" I said breathlessly to the young man. He nodded his head to me. Planes flew around in the sky. A familiar one was up there with Great Britain markings.

        It was Collins friend, Farrier. Collins looked up into the sky, a small smile formed on his lips as his eyes followed the plane which was shooting down the enemy.

        "Alice!" A voice called. I turned around to see Mr. Dawson. My body was now covered with oil. It was amazing how he could even recognize me. Well, actually, I am the only girl here so it must have not been that hard "My God" he pulled me in for a hug "I saw your boat go down, I didn't know if you made it or not. I'm glad you're safe"

       "Are you alright?" I asked. Mr. Dawson nodded "What about Peter? And the other boy who is with you?"

        "Peter is alright" he looked over to the opposite side of the boat. Peter stood there at the edge of the boat in his red turtle neck sweater, he was helping some more men out of the water "George on the other hand..." he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment "Didn't make it"

        "I'm... I'm so sorry" I shook my head in disappointment "He was brave, braver than most" Mr. Dawson nodded in agreement "How did it happen?" I asked.

        Mr. Dawson went to the cabinets of the boat and pulled out a dark green blanket, he walked back over and handed it to me "A soldier that we picked up not too long ago. It was all an accident, he pushed him and George fell and hit his head. There was nothing we could do"

       I took the blanket gratefully. Mr. Dawson pointed out the soldier that he was talking about. The man was an older, older than most of the boys here on deck. He had sharp blue eyes and tanned skin. He was trying his hardest to avoid the crowd of soaking wet soldiers that surrounded him.

       I could immediately tell that he had been through hell. The dull look in his eyes, and the way he seemed on edge every moment made it clear. I wrapped the blanket over my shoulders and made my way back to Collins. He was with the man who killed George, they were working together in pulling up the remaining stragglers in the water.

        My eyes locked with another plane turning around in the air. It was curving back around towards us, and it wasn't a friendly plane "It's coming back around!" I yelled, pointing my finger in the air. Everyone above deck looked up to the clouds, the color draining from their eyes. A RAF plane was also in the air, no doubt that it's Farrier.

        Farrier was firing bullets at the back of the plane. Collins watched in anticipation as he worked. I guided some drenched soldiers down below deck, praying that we would be alright. They all sat in a huddle, their tired faces mutilated with blood and oil.

        Suddenly smoke sprouted from the back of the German plane, signaling that Farrier had succeeded in stopping it, and it was out for the count. Relief spread through me, but that faded instantly when I remembered that there was still oil spilled out in the water. Any kind of spark or flame will set it on fire. There are still hundreds of men in there. The plane swiftly torpedoed down to the surface.

       "We need to go!" Collins yelled to Mr. Dawson who quickly started the boat. He got us out of the oil spill and a safe distance from the impact zone. I held my breath when it collided. Fire exploded from crash, having a domino affect on the oil.

        Everyone still out there in the water became engulfed in flames. Peter was pulling in the last soldier. He was the boy with the skinny face and dark hair. I recognized him from our boat before. He made it just in the nick of time. I stood at the stern of the boat, my hand covering my mouth in pure shock.

         I felt a hand on my shoulder, it was Collins. The screams of utter pain sounded from the fiery water. I closed my eyes and leaned back against him. The feeling of leaving people behind his crippling. They deserved to live "We did everything that we could possibly do, Alice" Collins assured, but his voice was sad.