June 6, 1944 – Omaha Beach, Normandy

The British soldier—young, wiry, and wide-eyed—sprints across the sand as machine gun fire rains down. Dee Carpenter watches from behind a hedgehog barrier, heart pounding. The soldier dodges bullets, leaps over a fallen comrade, and dives into cover beside Dee.

“Bloody hell,” the soldier gasps, grinning. “Thought I was toast.”

Dee laughs, half in shock. “You’re lucky.”

“Name’s Callum,” he says. “Lucky Callum, I suppose.”

Instead of falling later in the chaos, Callum sticks close to Dee. They fight side by side—Dee with his rifle, Callum with his Lee-Enfield. When a German machine gun nest pins down their squad, Callum volunteers to flank it.

He moves like a shadow through the rubble, tosses a grenade, and silences the nest. The squad advances. Dee watches in awe.

As the sun sets over the battered beachhead, Dee and Callum sit behind a shattered wall, sharing a ration bar. Dee asks why Callum volunteered for such a dangerous mission.

“My brother died at Dunkirk,” Callum says quietly. “I promised Mum I’d make it count.”

Dee nods. “You did.”