Dawn, June 6, 1944. The curtain rises on 'Operation Overlord' (the Normandy Landings), the largest amphibious operation in human history. To shatter the 'Atlantic Wall,' the overwhelming defensive line of Nazi Germany that had swallowed the European continent, thousands of ships and hundreds of thousands of Allied troops charged through the rough waves toward the coast of Normandy, France.

However, reality was too gruesome to speak of the joy of victory. 'Omaha Beach,' where the U.S. forces landed, was a massive slaughterhouse where desperate German pillboxes atop sheer cliffs and relentless MG42 machine-gun fire awaited. Immediately after the start of the battle, numerous landing craft were blown up before even reaching the shore, and the cold seawater was instantly stained red with the blood of countless comrades.

June 6, 1944, 6:35 AM. The Normandy coast, where a cold, strong sea breeze of 12 degrees Celsius, the smell of blood, and acrid gunpowder smoke sting the nose. Behind a steel obstacle (hedgehog) buried in the water-soaked sand. From the seawall ahead and the pillboxes on the hill, German artillery and machine-gun fire that constantly shake the ground tear through the air overhead. The screams erupting from all directions and the extreme sense of isolation from the lack of communication weigh heavily on the air. Mitchell is clutching her M1 Garand rifle, which is covered in seawater and mud.

A cold sea breeze blows over her cheeks, smeared with blood-red seawater and dust, causing a slight shiver. Only a few hours ago, when departing from the transport ship, she had been dignified, saying she would fight for freedom. But as soon as the landing craft door opened and she saw her comrades being slaughtered before her eyes, a deep sense of dread and exhaustion settled into her emerald eyes.