Greetings to all who have taken the time to read my fic! Please note, this takes place around 1941-1942, when the British were fighting both the Italians and German forces in Africa. The Americans have not yet entered the war as well. At least not around Europe.
Their is a deal bit of cussing, but nothing worse than what you'll see on t.v, if not less. But just for safe measure it'll be rated T, planning not to go far enough to send this into the brink of a M rating. Well, without further ado, may the story begin.
URGE ON SWEET SUNRISE
I felt it. The sudden shift of
explosions and dangerously loud gunshots. This battle, this war, was
drawing closer to us. I could just feel it. I stood at a still, looking, gazing
over the flat desert that spread among, in all direction till peaks
begin or the array of smoke and mirages engulfed what was left.
It
was hot.
Damn was it hot.
Rubbing my wrinkled and chaffed skin i
began to think. Today, would be a great day to die.
Nefarious popped out from within the
hollow opening that led inside the tank, coughing and breathing
heavily as he began to speak to me, "Commander. We have radio
contact from Montgomery himself. Jerrie's are coming our way. It
seems that they managed to cut off from the current lines and dawned
back so they can arrive at this position... um, captain, sir?"
I didn't seem to be interested in what
he had to say. I didn't need HQ to tell me the fight was coming to
us. It was in my gut. My bowels were telling me that black plague was
approaching, and fast. The boys better be ready, cause those Germans
aren't going to just let us blow them to bits. That i was sure of.
I let the still silence last a little
longer before i decided, for the sake of Nefarious, to speak. "Good.
Tell Cassius in there to load the two-pounder, you get on that
machine gun and prepare yourself," I stopped to take a breath, "I
see them."
It was true. The vast sand
spur whirled in a fashion much seen in the months waning out in the
desert. It spoke in clear tongue that, that was no ordinary typhoon
of dust. No, it was being kicked around by heavy tanks and Panzers.
They called it the Panzerarmee. A deadly division of cunningly
designed vehicles, heavy transporters and a barrage of AA guns that
could punch a clean hole in anything living or non. It's just
shocking how they turned something from an artilliry cannon into a
despised piece of a equipment, even more so than the man leading this
vast group. Yes, Rommel. General supremest and a tactical genius to
boot. One that could curve even the toughest of situations to his
favor. Or so he has been doing as of late. But unlike the rest of the
conflicts I've been in, in this God forsaken desert, this one just
felt, how should i say, right. As if we had a fighting chance. I just
hoped my instincts on the matter are correct. Today, it would be
different we'd be the one pushing then back for once.
Whilst the calm that seemed to pass
between us and them, i ounce my way up the canvas that was the A9's
side and climbed into the hatchway. They were drawing nearer to us,
to us and the plethora of other lads protecting this rock in the
sand. Our only chance of holding the line of El Alamein, the path
stopping German and Italian forces alike from reaching the heart of
Egypt. Those bloody people better be thanking
us. If not for us being here, Genocide of a large scale probably
would have been at hand. Or they'd have all their oil stripped from
them like a blimey crock tearing an innocent Gazelle to pieces.
By the time i stood at watch, half up
in the humid breeze filled with smog, i saw the shimmers and glim of
the approaching machines, counting them before they reared their ugly
heads from within the dust.
It was now a matter of time.
"Cassius, everything up and running
down there!?" I shouted, trying to overpass the sudden sound of the
engines coming to life. "Yes sir, everyone's ready!" He yelped
back, the echo's barely ringing to me."Alright then. Lets show these
Jerrie's what were capable of." Shoving my way into the dingy space
that was our home, i closed the lid and locked it tight. Out of the
fire and straight into the frying pan, left to simmer and melt away,
slowly and with keen torture.
"Keep her steady. Let them come
closer. Fernando, distance?" I quickly wiped sweat, sweat already
pouring over my face from just being inside for mere seconds. If i
learned anything, Tanks do not make good shade. With tattered voice
Fernando replied, "Hundred; maybe hundred and twenty yards at the
most." I could barely make out his voice over the humming of the
engines and the constant chatter from the radio.
"Dang it private, turn that damned
thing down! For goodness sakes, can't even hear me'self think!"
Nefarious quickly obliged and turned the nob till it became nothing
more than a faint whisper. Chances are I'd regret that later, but
it would become nothing more than an annoyance than a helping hand in
the long run. Besides, if the retreat was to be ordered, it would be
bloody obvious, seeing as if the other boys would be hightailing it
out of here. At least not to forget, it's better not
to think of such thoughts at a time like this. Battle never does give
you that sparing second to piddle with what could happen.
If to ring the door bell, a crackle and
boom of cannon fodder and shots began to pour across from the Germans
line as they continued a straight forward march eastward, keeping a
minimum distant from us, but such to keep in a modern range. We were
sitting ducks, they were the hunters stalking us.
"Turn twenty degrees! Aim for where
they will go, not at them! Ready, target, fire!"
With nonreligious prayers sent, the
shackle and bump of the thwomp
feeling we learned to grow and respect pushed out. We watched, at
least those that could see, a sudden white trail hit and demolish in
a a puff of dark sand, a shell launched by us, to them. But it became
a quick apparel that we missed. By a small margin to boot. If their
was anything that could piss me off more, it would be missing by mere
inches. Inches that could mean life or death.
"Load another
shell, quickly!" We were the first to fire on our side, but not for
long. In a hail storm of bombardments from artillery placed behind us
and secondary reply from the rest of the A9's, more gusts of decree
and dust blossomed and boomed all around the narrow run of the enemy
forces.
A few wreckages
appearing in clear sight showing monstrous beasts taken down in
blows. That was something that did the opposite of making me testy.
Nice homely piles
of wrecked German armor. Just how i like it.
It didn't take long for the real fight to begin. Echo's of far away bouts sinking its way miles in every direction. I could see why they'd think we were so vulnerable. Just a rag tag team of Desert Rats out away from the main battalion, sitting between them and the port city Cairo. Too bad i just wasn't in a giving mood today.
Belches of smoke;
rising from dispersed vehicles continued to feed the flames that just
added to the hell we were in. It stuck with me. The ringing sound,
pitched and high up, taunting me with every burst of the cannon.
Atkins, get a hold of yourself. Can't let the team down. Not now.
Just got to keep fighting. Show those jerks on the other end who you
are.
More spatters of
clothed dirt sprinkled and painted our little heat conductor as a
narrowly missing shell hit the ground hard in front of us. Probably
gave shivers to everyone here. But not me. I'm the man who's in
charge. No time for fear. No time to show weakness.
"Forty up, aim
for the under belly- fire!" I yelled another screech and churn of
metal pulsed the tank slightly backwards, creating another blurry
trail of mis created death. It smashed hard into it's target, causing
eruption of a mass scale within. Poor Jerrie's never saw it coming.
The intense clash
began to dwindle everyone's numbers. But it was far from over. With
every tank or man fallen in battle, another quickly stepped up and
took his place. The Jerrie's cautious and all, continued to push
hard along our deployment line, As well as to mask the dawning of
light, they continued to slowly crank up there movement to create
twirls of sand to rise and spread in the air. There own second
layer of armor, per say? Guess Rommel's been teaching his men well.
That or all Germans are born to drive tanks.
What didn't seem to
fit in the picture was the ever persistent Italians. Their own
numbers meshing in with the Nazi regime, not worth much due to there
outdated technology on the field and the little numbers they had.
Course, if not for Mussolini and his vow to bring back this long to
pass Roman Empire, they wouldn't have been here, causing havoc,
riding in with the high noon. Never would have brought the Germans
with him too. Or so i would guess.
A second shell whizzed by us and smash
into the underbrush of a nearby rock. No Atkins, this is not the time
to dwell on political fanfare.
Something caught my eye at that moment.
Something that just didn't seem right. They finally stopped.
"Well about time! Now we can send
them to an early grave with generous ease, aye team?"I croaked, smiling all the while,
cheering what could be a well too soon cheer. Yes, well too soon. A sudden shift in the balance became
clear, through the settling of the storm clouds, it became apparent
what they were doing from the start. Masking the readiness of those
unholy Anti Tank guns.
"For the love of- Nefarious change in
plans aim at those eighty-eight's before they punch a hole in us
bigger than Fernando's head!" Fernando took lightly at the comment,
probably swayed by the constant fear of war. That or he was just too
afraid of me. Everyone on my team was. At least a respectable fear
that one can only receive from uncanny discipline and self-respect.
Something i believe is trait of blood.
Nefarious quickly got to work, back
paddling to the nearest Eighty-eight and lining what he thinks is a
direct hit. But if it be luck or just planned out, those turrets were
partially hiding behind both Panzer and dune's alike. From this
distant we had little chance of hitting them, they had the barrel
against our skulls.
I turned the radio up a tad to get a
gesture of what was going on amongst the others. As usual, noises
I've grown sadly attached too, were the deafening screams and
terrible pleas of help across multiple channels all lining from
hundreds of tanks. Talk about one grotesque noise.
Another rock of the machine another
piece of ammunition gone in a explosion of pure fire and shrapnel.
"Damn it, can't we hit anything but
desert!? Lets put the pain into them!" I yelled, seeing as we just
hit the cover the Eighty-eight had.
It didn't take long for them to reply
to our bet with their own fold of cards. The Eighty-eight's. In a
bombardment, they catheterized our entire area, plugging anything
that could shoot back and then some. All i could hear was the sudden
rush of smoke and explosions. Odd for the such tiny space i had
available to peer out of; i could suddenly see the sun drifting
outwards for miles on miles. Just like when the Jerrie's first
arrived an hour earlier. When i was just resting on the hot surface
of our tank.
From what i faintly saw, my eyes
wandering across a sparse wasteland, our own men, sprawled and
burned alive in heaps, mounds and mounds of heaps, the metal
protecting them blown open and turned into mince meat. Some privates
still alive, crawling for shelter, hoping to make it, but were
thoughts soon shattered by the roar of a unleashed machine gun.
Mercy? Not in war. You show mercy you'll be the one pleading for it
not long after.
I could smell it, eye's beginning to
blur, the smell of burnt flesh and oil. Atkins you moron, what is
wrong with you! Get back in the game. Your team needs you!
I just couldn't move. All i could ask
was one thing.
Did we get hit?
No. No feeling whatsoever. Dead,
demolished, doomed so to say. The daggering taste of sand filling my
lungs and mouth. So dry. So tired... could just go to sleep right
here. My eyes roll sideways, looking
skywards, stopping midpoint. A corpse. Tangled across me. Charred as
if grilled and smoldering with fumes and smoke. I could recognize the
remains of a face. Nefarious. My worse fears. His eyes wide with
terror: years of tales and drunken bar fights seeping out as if
remembering and seeing them once again. Not my memories no, but to
me, a man with no such thing as a past, had to live through some
memories. Even if it was just that... borrowed memories.
Tears began to build up in my eyes.
Never did i think it would come to this. Legends die hard as they
say. Man, i didn't even get to gloat about this to my future
grandsons.
No! Snap out of it. You're still alive
you old coot. Get up! Get up!
But... it felt so good to just be numb.
Never have i realized how much of a burden I've been carrying all
these months. Better to just keep forgetting those memories. That i
wish i could do... but they began to creep up on me... slowly, irking
and tugging at my mind.
"Welcome to the Cauldron men. The crappiest place you'll ever see."
Forget them Atkins... they'll just hurt you even more...
"I just can't wait to return home captain. To see the faces of my children; to hold my wife once more. Atkins, I mean sir, do you have kids of your own?"
Drown them out, old man... just go to sleep... you deserve some rest...
"We all had dreams. But i quickly abandoned mine when the world kicked me in the ass. I figured thats why all of us are here. Because we've lost that dream. To fight for a land that couldn't give a shit if we're here or not. Eh, it's got a poetic justice if you ask me. Men die for a country not worth dying for. Well look at that, might have just found my calling after all. I can see it now... lil' ol' farmer boy from Scotland tells truth about world. Maybe they'll turn my life into some black and white movie. Who knows."
I slowly could feel
the tingle in my body. The one i heard about from those that
experienced near death situations. No noise, no feeling, just a plain
vortex of stale, invisible numbness that began to rob me of my
senses. Slipping away to that very same spot i hoped never to see
here. The graveyard of my mind.
The shell shock
aftermath.
"If you died sir, do you think you'll go to heaven?"
"Heaven? Boy, with the things I've seen, done and practically blown to pieces, I'd think it'll be in God's best intentions to send this man far away from it as possible."
"So- hell sir?"
"How much of a hell can hell itself be? It'll just be like living. No 'hell' can be as gruesome as the one I've walked for decades. None."
That's it for now. If i don't get flamed to death, then i shall continue among the week or a few days. Reviews, wether they be with my critical intrest on how to improve my story or just plain good things said, are highly welcome. Like i always say, can't change what you don't know.
