"Aghhhh!"
"Ughhhhh! Hey! Shields up! Shields upaahhh!"
"Shit! I stepped on something! My leg…. I think I twisted i… ahhhhh!
"Ahhhh, bastard! Don't push! I'm getting off as fast as I can!"
"Brat! I'm letting you go first! Listen to your elders! I am ten times older than you!"
"Brother, you are the most heroic of us all. You take charge. We will bring up the rear!"
All such schemes and screams were being plotted and produced by the attacking men as they quickly lept down from their ships onto the soft sandy beach, hurriedly raising their shields and wading to the shore as fast as possible.
The name of the game here was speed, so they tried to get off their ships and into proper formation within the least time possible, working very hard to stay in that dreadful zone of the most concentrated enemy fire as little as possible.
