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        SNEAKING INTO a Nazi camp isn't easy; it hasn't ever been, but it's definitely the easiest part of this mission. Currently, the 107th are all trying to fit behind a dumpster. It's not working very well. Bucky bumps my hip, making me smile slightly. I bump into his in return and feel his hand grab mine. He squeezes it reassuringly and lets it go. It was a small gesture, but it was more than enough to gain some confidence over this mission. I turn back to the Nazi base and start to come up with a plan, already working out one in my head.

"Okay, Darren, take your group and go take out the Nazis on the right side of the building. Stephen, take your group and take out the ones on the left. My group will go straight through the middle. Once the ground is clear, we go in," I instruct, making sure I speak loud enough for everyone to hear. I must have been successful because everyone begins to move.

Without further ado, I turn to face my group and make the motion to go. I take a deep breath before rushing out into the gunfire with Bucky right beside me.

I shoot at any Nazi that I see as we make our way to the building in the middle of the area. Five of our soldiers get shot down, but nobody stops as we finally reach the building; we have no time to stop. We only have one shot. I wait for the other two groups to join us before Bucky and I work together to kick open the door.

At least two hundred Nazis stand throughout the building, heading our way. This is so not fair. Less than seventy of our soldiers against like two hundred Nazis. Then again, whoever said war was fair?

"Open fire!" I announced to my men, and not one second later, the familiar sound of gunfire rings through my ears as I squeeze the trigger of my gun.

We all end up splitting up when the Nazis get too close, and many of us are forced to fight hand-to-hand instead.

I work to take down as many as I can, trying to keep the men at a little over arms reach so that they can't do too much damage to me. For the most part I am successful, but that all changes when one guy manages to stab me in my forearm. I let out a panicked cry as my attacker rips the jarred edged knife out. Blood begins to pour out of my wound, but I cannot deal with it until my attacker is off my back. I duck from what would have been a deafening blow to my head before snatching my own knife from its sheath on my belt and slashing at the Nazi's throat. Through my slightly blurred vision, I notice that my attempt is successful as the man falls to the ground.

With nobody noticing, I hide behind a crate to assess the extent of my wound. I wince as I pull up my sleeve and get a glimpse of my flesh, blood pouring down my arm and getting all over me. Using my knife, I cut off a piece of my undershirt and tie it around the knife wound tightly. It should at least hold until the mission is over.

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