The History Lesson: The History Lesson
by Jason Weiser
Buffy is the Property of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. I'm just borrowing. Any historical events in this story are purely based both in readings of fact and the author's imagination, that something happened exactly the way I wrote it is very doubtful, but then again, who knows? The night of D-Day was a very scary night indeed.

A Buffy/Private Ryan crossover-Sort of.

Buffy Summers had her hands full just keeping her eyes open, < Ugh, History, can they make it any more boring? > Her freind, Willow, was at the desk to her left dutifully taking notes from the teacher’s lecture about World War II or something, but Buffy was just having her hands full just staying awake....

It was then that the cold air, the cold dark air smacked her in the face..< What the? I’m in history class? What is going on here? > She looked up, and that’s when she noticed she was under a, billowing, olive-drab colored parachute...< How in hell did I get here? > her mind screamed.

Buffy then looked down, just as she hit the ground. HARD. Buffy rolled about for a bit, finally coming to rest face-first in a haystack. Buffy soon sat up and, as if by automatic, reached for down to a knife sheath attached to her right boot and began to cut away the parachute shroud. < How in hell do I know to do this, and what’s a leg bag, and why am I looking for it? >. Buffy soon located her leg bag, and opened it, only to find in it a very large, and very evil-looking rifle..instead of reacting as she thought she normally would have, she instead, matter of factly, reached into her web belt, grabbed a clip of ammo and fed it into the top of the rifle. < How did I know to do that? Ok, this is too wierd, even for the hellmouth! >

Buffy got her gear togther, amazed she thought of the idea of taking her parachute and harness and burying them. She then she of in a direction, that for some reason, she was pretty convinced was West. As she set off, she wondered two things...One, where was she, and two, who was she?

Her first answer came after about what seemed like an eternity of ducking from hedge to hedge, behind stone walls and generally sneaking around. Buffy came upon a small still pond, her refelction, however, was not her own, but that of a tewntysomething male, < Kinda cute > mused Buffy, he/she < was that the way to think of it? > was in uniform..the same uniform you saw in those old black and white movies..only, this sure didn’t feel like a movie...and everything was in color.

As for the second...it came not long after, Buffy began to feel an itch in her right pants pocket, like something scraping against her leg. She reached in and grabbed it, it was a typewritten sheet..dated June 5th, 1944...< Dear God, I’m in World War II! > Buffy dropped the paper...and threw herself behind the nearest stone wall. She gripped her rifle very tightly and began to mutter over and over again “I’ll never fall asleep in class again, I’ll never fall asleep in class again..”

A FEW HOURS LATER.

Buffy had been painstakingly making her way across the Norman countryside for what seemed like hours. Every so often, the still night would be punctuated by the stacatto of gunfire or the muffled thump of an explosion, or the high pitched scream of a man being hit. This made Buffy grip her rifle all the tighter. < Here I am, all alone, no map, no AAA, and there’s a war going on all around me! >

All of a sudden, she heard a metal clicking, kind of like a snapping of fingers...as if by automatic response, Buffy threw herself to the ground, and fished around in her pocket for...what looked to her like some crappy kids toy from 7-Eleven. She then made it click, twice in response < Ok, this is too wierd...How the hell did I to do that? >.

She then saw a rustling of bushes about, 50 meters ahead? A single man, armed with another evil-looking weapon, that didn’t look a thing like hers, but was dressed in the same Olive-Drab uniform as Buffy, half-crawled and half-stepped from the hedges. “Hey mac?” he stage whispered. “You from the 501st?”..

Buffy replied, the voice was hers...but it was as if she was on autopilot. “Hell no, Able Company, 3rd of the 506th.”

Her next comment was hers...”But it’s real damn good to somebody that’s on our side”. She crawled over and shook hands with the dark figure, “Shapiro, 3rd Platoon, Able Company, 1/506”. as she shook his hands < OK, I have a name. > Buffy’s mind reported with some satisfaction.

The dark figure replied. “Menke, 2nd Platoon, Baker Company, 2nd of the 501st. How in hell did you end up here?”

Again, as if on autopilot, Buffy responded, the voice again sounded like hers, but not the response. “Damned if I know, crazy C-47 driver scatted us all the hell over France. Lucky I didn’t come down over Paris.” < Geez, this is going well for me > Buffy mused.

Menke chuckled whistfully. “Hey, well, join the club. I’m senior here,seeing as how I’m a Corporal, but there’s only three of us, including you, so pulling rank’s kinda silly. As for maps or a compass, well, we didn’t have any, so we’re kinda falling back on the stars, lucky thing Baker her is an astronomy nut. As for where, well, we’ve been heading towards where we think Carentan might be, we know a lot of stuff was suppossed to come down there...question was, did it?”

Buffy shrugged “With our luck?...”

“Probably not” Menke finished, he then reached over to his forehead and scratched for a while in a kind of frenzied contemplation...when suddenly, the sound of a wasplike whine broke the night and Menke’s head exploded all over Buffy in a shower of blood and brains.

The other figure, presumeably Baker shouted,“Shit! Sniper!”and threw himself to the ground behind a nearby hedgerow.

Buffy froze...She couldn’t get over the randomness of it all. One minute, Menke was talking to her, the next, he was a mess of blood and brains, some of it all over the front of Buffy’s tunic. A voice in her head that sounded like her own screamed for her to not just sit there, but to do something, ANYTHING.

After what seemed like an eternity, she did, she high-crawled over to a nearby stone wall, knelt down behind it, sholdered her rifle and with practised ease, turned off the safety. She began to scan the treeline in front maybe fifty yards in front of her, but with the darkness, it was tough to tell..Then, there was a small flash of light, followed by the sound of what sounded to Buffy like ripping canvas, and the stone wall in front of Buffy exploded in an cloud of stone, wood and dust. She was knocked back, her rifle slipped out of her hands.

When Buffy shook off the shock, she realized she was bleeding from her face, it didn’t feel serious, but she was left with the impression that somebody, presumeably German, had just tried to kill her. Buffy scampered over to her rifle, and checked it over by touch. < It seems OK > her mind observed < But there is only one real way to tell >. Buffy high-crawled back to the wall, and again sholdered her rifle, she drew a bead on where the flash of light had come from, and snapped off three rounds in quick sucession, the report of the rifle was loud, and the weapon kicked harder than some vampires she had fought. As Buffy ducked back behind the wall to avoid a repeat performance of what just occured, she thought she heard a cry that sounded like “Das Blut”, but she wasn’t sure. And, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out either.

Buffy then popped back up, and snapped off 5 more rounds, the clip for the rounds ejecting itself with a loud PING! Again, with an ease not her own, she fished another clip out of her web belt and shoved into her rifle. She then high crawled away from the wall, and once across the road, threw herself over the other wall, landing uncermoinously into a cow patty with a loud THUD. The stink was horrific, but the adrenlin was pumping and Buffy wasn’t eager to stick around and die. She levered herself to her feet and ran towards the woodline in front of her.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

Buffy had been sneaking around the French countryside for hours, the only other troops she had seen were Germans, going by the fact that they weren’t speaking anything approaching English. Anytime she tried heading towards a firefight, it would be over by the time she got there, with nobody left there but the dead and dying.

Her own fear was palpable, as the light improved in the early morning hours, she began to see some horrific sights, paratroopers hanging from trees with their throats cut or shot multiple times. < Good god, why in hell do that, it wasn’t like they could go anywhere? >. She came upon the body of a German soldier, with a knife lodged in his left eye. < That’s gonna be some therapy. > her mind commented upon the sight.

Buffy had been awake for about four or five hours, she didn’t know because her watch had stopped running when she landed < This Shapiro needs to get a better watch >, she fumed. She was just about to give up on the idea of a siesta when she spotted an abandoned French barn..< Ah, that’s the ticket >. She cautiously approached the barn, when she got to the open door, she peered in, it was musty, the floor bare except for a thin layer of stale hay, but, it looked pretty inviting. She didn’t get five steps into the barn when she heard the rustling of hay, she turned, it was a young German soldier, his eyes wide with fear, Buffy saw a glint of steel < Knife! > He was on Buffy in a second, knocking her to the ground and sending her rifle flying across the room.

Buffy and the German rolled around, grappling for control of the knife, ever closer, it inched towards her throat, but soond, her strength willed out, and she managed to twist the knife the other way, and with a violent thrust, disarmed the German, she then broke his grappling hold, and she clambred to her feet. But, as she did so, she made a mistake, she turned her back. The German again lunged, but he timed it wrong, and Buffy turned around, inadvertantly impaling the German in the belly on his own knife. Buffy saw the shock register, and the life drain out of the eyes of the young man...Her own shock was apparant as she looked down, the German’s field-grau tunic rapidly staining red with his own blood.

All Buffy could utter was “I’m sorry..” as the German slumped over, then fell backwards, dead, the look of shock still on his face. Buffy collapsed to her knees, her vision graying, she fought to stay away, but the gray soon turned black..

And with a start, Buffy Summers awoke with a start in her classroom, with her teacher, Ms. Edgars, an old spinster of a woman, glasses perked over her nose, standing over her like a buzzard does it’s next meal.

“Ms Summers..Did you enjoy your nap? I asked you a question, what were the five beaches the Allies landed on during D-Day?” Ms Edgars asked in a sarchastic tone. Giggles were heard sporatically throughout the rest of the class.

“Um, I don’t know” replied Buffy.

“Just what I suspected, Ms. Summers” Ms. Edgars replied. “You know, I do wonder how you ever expect to pass my class.” She then walked back to the blackboard. “Ms. Summers, you really should pay more attention in my class, because those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it...in summer school.”, waggling a finger at Buffy for emphasis.

Buffy was still in shock from her dream, was it real, or just a dream, and how could she dream an entire night in 15 minutes? She guessed some things weren’t meant to have answers..and some answers might not be believed. But one thing was sure, She sure as hell was never going to fall asleep in history class again!

THE END?

I have plans for a sequel, so lemme know at jrw4war@rocketmail.com

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