Crispin Beach: The Assault

Roy awoke. He looked around, surprised. For the first time, he heard nothing but silence. He peeked over the wall, across the beach. On the far side of the bloody body-strewn wasteland, he saw a high ridge. On the bottom were the sandbag fortifications held by numerous riflemen and their 50. caliber "Pillbox" machine guns. The ridge behind them had one main road leading up the middle, and a few small paths twisting and turning around rocks and boulders. At the top of the ridge he could barely make out the artillery that had been the main factor in halting the advance. A few concrete walls were set up for use by heavy gunners.
He looked over and saw John lying against the wall sleeping soundly. He jabbed him in the ribs and he awoke with a start, aiming his rifle at his gut.
"Damn, you freaking scared me!" he yelled
"Shhhh, listen."
The silence made John think twice and he peered over just as he had done.
The tanks were silent and not even moving. Men were eating rations and drinking from their canteens. Some even playing cards.
"Like I said, it's those quiet times that scare you most." John muttered.
"I know, I wonder when the fighting will start again."
They looked towards the sea and noticed one Lander coming in. Around them men were getting tense and loaded their weapons. He grabbed his 30mm Longshot Rifle and slapped a clip into it. He attached the scope, adjusting it for long-range combat. Tank engines revved and men gathered for what he believed would be the final attempt at gaining the beach. As if on cue, 5 missile-laden P51 Hawktail fighters flew overhead. The entire beach swarmed with activity, but why hadn't the Novians opened fire yet? Roy checked through his scope and the entire defensive line was scrambling to its positions. And then it began. Almost the entire front flashed as gunfire burst from the line. Roy saw a 6 man-squad caught in the open obliterated by enemy fire. He eased over the barricade and saw 4 men manning a Pillbox gun and took aim. He squeezed the trigger and the bullet pierced his helmet with a spray of blood. The other men, shocked, began firing frantically as another manned the gun. Again Roy fired, this time hitting the soldier's eye as it passed through him. He looked around quickly and noticed an entire wall of tanks moving forward, the infantry right behind them. The artillery barrage began again and a tank hit by a shell erupted in a brilliant explosion, its shrapnel killing the soldiers behind it. John was firing his 15 cal. Whitmond machine gun into the sandbags, forcing the enemy into cover.
"Okay! We need to get the platoon together!" Roy yelled
"The tanks are moving, we've got to hurry!" replied John, extracting his emptied clip.
"Alright, you get that side, I'll get this one!"
They rushed off in opposite directions. Roy got about half the squad and came to where the tanks were pelting the ridge with cannon-fire. He banged the side of the lead one. The driver popped the cap and peered over.
"We're you're infantry support for the assault on the ridge sir!" he hollered into his ear.
"Okay! Cover us from the third tank back!"
"Yes sir!"
The tank rolled on and passed, heading for the road through the ridge. This was it, the road to Crispin. The town itself was considered the more difficult part of the campaign. The beach was supposed to be undefended, until the first wave approached. Then the battle had begun. But this would be his final test. To prove that war was nothing to him. That he could kill without a second thought. And he planned to pass his test. John came up to him right as the second tank passed.
"We're coming in after the third tank. Split the men up, 3 to a tank. We need good cover spread in the line!"
"Kay! See you up the hill!" and he sprinted off down the line. He had a feeling that that would be the last time he saw his friend.
"Hey, McKenzie, Churchill, you're with me" Roy called, and the men trotted up to him. The third tank came level with them.
"Come on!"
They all jogged alongside the tank. Continuing along the beach, Roy could see remnants of the first wave. It seemed they had made it as far as the sandbags before the Novians opened up.

Suddenly a shriek came from McKenzie, "TAKE COVER!"
A rocket hurtled down from the ridge with frightening speed and connected with the second tank. Flaming debris flew everywhere and shrapnel exploded, but the next tank, pushed the rubble out of the way and continued on. The ridge opened up with rifle fire and the platoon took cover behind the tanks. Off to their left, another tank column was moving forward towards one of the smaller paths. The platoon there was caught in crossfire and men were dropping like flies. He noticed 3 men at one of the central tanks killed in succession. The lead tank was being peppered with all kinds of small arms fire, but nothing could penetrate its hull. Until it came to an abrupt stop as a land mine engaged under it and tossed it off the road, killing the men around it. His own line wasn't doing too badly.
"HERE WE ARE YOU NOVA BASTARDS!" Churchill cheered raising his fist.
He looked up and realized he was completely oblivious to the dogfights raging in the air. A Hawktail had just tagged a hit on a Novian 640 Tankbuster and it burst into a ball of incandescence. Right after that the Hawktail's back exploded from a Howler missile and it plummeted to the ground. He turned his attention back to the ground and noticed McKenzie was tiring.
"We're almost to the top! Come on y-"
A bullet struck his kneecap and McKenzie fell to the ground. Roy shouldered his weapon and helped him up banging on the tank again. It came to a stop holding up the entire line. The hatch opened.
"You're holding up the line!" the driver yelled.
"Can you give my man a lift?!" Roy yelled back
"Fine, as long as he doesn't bleed everywhere!"
Together they heaved him up.
"I'm sorry Corporal!" McKenzie hollered back.
"It's not your fault, now get in there!"
The hatch shut and the column began moving again. Roy came over to Churchill.
"Can you watch the tank while I check the squad?!"
"Sure Corp." he replied casually.
Roy dropped out and sprinted back along the line Most of them were doing fine. 3 dead and 1 wounded. Roy knew these people killed and seemed to feel hollow the more friends he lost. When he reached John he asked him "You doin' okay?!"
"Yeah, just a little shook up!"
"From what?!" he asked.
"We're entering the pass up ahead!"
Roy looked ahead and was surprised to see how far they had made it. The pass up ahead was narrow and would provide little cover. All they could do was give cover fire until they were through. They wouldn't have time to stop for wounded or dead.
"Tell the men to form up near the front of the column we need t-"
Bullets traced lines in the sand as a hidden emplacement opened up. Roy squeezed off a few rounds and took cover behind the tank. John unpinned a grenade and tossed it forward. It landed right in the stone fortification and the men tried climbing out as the explosion rocked the stone wall. The tanks' turret swivelled around and opened fire on the survivors piercing their uniforms and splattering the rocks with blood.
"I'll get right to gathering the men!" John said and ran back down the column.
Roy sprinted back to the front of the line, finding Churchill still there, and continued through to the entrance of the pass, which seemed more like a trench, what many men actually called it after the battle. And the tired platoon of the 53rd Red Sun Regiment gathered for the advance through.

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Crispin Pass: Trench Warfare

As Roy entered the pass, much of the noise of battle seemed to be buffered away by the steep sides. The tanks rolled through in rows of two, just barely fitting into the trench. It was 11:14, and the platoon kept glancing upwards nervously, as if expecting hell to rain down upon them at any second. The group was gathered mainly in the centre of the column, and were silent. Adjacent walls on either side made Roy feel uncomfortable and protrusions jutting out from them made it even worse. Then the line came to a stop. He climbed the nearest tank and peered forward. What he saw made his eyes widen. An enormous rock slide blocked their path and looked almost impenetrable. He hopped off and without even so much as a glance to his platoon, jogged to the front. There the tank commander had left his "Zipline" and was examining the block.
"They must've done it last night, while we were sleeping." He said to Roy.
"You think we can blow through it?"
" Maybe… I'll need a few minutes to rig a simple charge. Meanwhile, I need you to get someone to back up the line a bit. The blast could damage the convoy."
"Yes sir, I'll get right on it."
He turned around, trotting back towards his men. When he got there he pointed to one of them.
"Bowski, get the rear Zipper to move back about 20 feet."
He nodded jogging off.
"Okay, now's your chance to take a breather guys." Roy announced. Roy said to the squad.
The men slung their weapons and relaxed. A couple lit up some cigarettes and others broke out some rations. When the line began moving back he saw Bowski coming back and pointed to another.
"Perez, double-time it up to the front and ask the lead tank if he's got the charge ready. If he does tell him to wait till I wave him the go-ahead."
Perez sprinted off up the incline of the pass. John pulled a picture out of his helmet and stared at it smiling.
"Whatcha lookin' at?" Roy queried.
John jumped.
"Oh, umm...nothing...nothing at all." He replied quickly.
"You know John, I can always tell when you're lying, 'cause you never were really good at it."
"It's nothing, really." He said putting it back in his helmets' interior.
Roy smirked and glanced around, stretching. He saw Perez about halfway towards the front on his way back and quickly roused everyone.
"Come on, back into action, up-and-at-em soldiers."
He hopped onto the tank, standing up, and saw the commander waving at him.
"HERE WE GO!" he yelled at the men, waving his arm at the same time, and bounding off. The fuse sparked, gunpowder lit, then.
"BOOM!!!" The charge went off, with an earsplitting explosion, scattering bits and pieces of pebble everywhere.

"LET'S GO, MOVE FORWARD!" The column revved to life, leaping forward. The platoon jogged quickly at first, spreading out. Then what they all feared occurred.
"SIR RPG!" the platoon member DeWayne called.
Roy saw the rocket impact on the right column's lead tank. The entire line halted, due to the roadblock. Then bullets whizzed down from the high walls, ricocheting off the tanks and rocks. Roy let off a succession of rounds at a few of the positions. The rest of the squad followed suit, scoring a few hits, as the men fell.
The tanks opened fire, causing massive rockslides, threatening to bury them.
"COVER ME!" John yelled hopping onto a tank a banging the hatch. When it opened his voiced boomed into it.
"Tell the column to only use their light weapons. Or you'll bury us alive!"
The tanker nodded closing the hatch.
"We're good!" John called to Roy, giving the thumbs up.
One minute John was standing there grinning. The next a cloud of dust sprung from his chest as a bullet entered it, and knocked him from the vehicle. Roy sprung forward, steadied his gun on the tank, scoped in on the shooter, and laid 4 rounds into his chest and head. John lay on the ground without as much as a twitch. Roy knelt next to him and rubbed his face to hold himself together. He had no time for grievance though and pulled the tags from his neck, placing them in a pouch. Then he pulled off his helmet, snatched the picture from it, and stuffed it in his own without as much as a glance.
An explosion on the trench wall signalled that the artillery was resuming and he yelled, "PLATOON, WE ARE LEAVING!"
The men acknowledged him as he sprinted towards the front of the line, yet again. He turned to see who was following. Only 11 men were behind him. Smoke and debris were flying. He could hear his breathing becoming hoarse and raspy. The noises of weapon-fire seemed quieter, less tense. Then he realized he was experiencing shellshock, without the stunning explosion. The squad passed tank after tank, rattling of fire with their chattering 75mm Quad-Guns. He paused and let a few men pass, instructing them to continue to front of the halted line. With Solomon in front of him, and then Churchill and Drake in front of him, they continued, pausing only once for rest. While resting the platoon repulsed large amounts of Novians off their side of the pass. Then as they resumed, Solomon stopped to trigger a few rounds. His kneecap split from a shot.
"AHH SON-OF-A-BI-"
He stumbled and was hit again in the neck splattering Roy's face and chest with gore.
"AGHLTH!" he sputtered.
Roy and Churchill struggled to help and he was lifted, only to meet his doom with another round to the abdomen. He was dropped just as swiftly, with no time to spare and Roy simply removed his tags.
'10 left. How many more will go just the same?' he thought.
They finally approached the obliterated "Zipline".
Roy opened the second tanks' hatch and yelled, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? PUSH STRAIGHT THROUGH IT!"
"WE CAN'T! IT'S BLOCKING THE PATH!" a tanker replied just as violently.
"MOVE!" he desperately called again.
He slammed the lid shut and hopped off. The tank roared forward with force unmatched, except by larger tanks and hit the wreckage. At first it held firm, slowly twisting out of shape, before being forced into the rock face and rammed aside. The platoon cheered as both lines began moving, a few raising their helmets. However, Pvt. Garnett had just been sprayed with the internals of Pvt. Nicholas's skull. They all swung back into action, as if on clockwork, and Roy removed the tags. 9 left. The column made great pace after that, unhindered, except by of course the emplacements raining death and destruction down upon them. Late in the day, around 3:34, all gunfire had ceased in the trench. The end could be seen as the walls smoothed out into fields of lush green landscape, torn by the naval bombardment. In the distance they could see the small town they would soon be entering, by force if need be. Crispin.
Remains of Novian presence could be seen as they had hastily retreated once they received word of the successful advance. The entire convoy exploded in a chorus of cheers and whoops as tankers and commanders a like, opened the hatches to their "Ziplines'".
"I TOLD THOSE NOVAS WE WERE COMING" Churchill roared.
Roy joined in, and seeing a gleam of metal to his right, pulled out his binoculars. It seemed the 144th Emerald Tank Division had made it through as well, along with their Red Sun infantry support in large numbers. Roy's platoon had been shifted straight to combat because of men needed on other fronts.
"Okay. Now let me get a head count of who's still here." He said, and he recited their names off his notepad. "Perez, Drake, Garnett, McKenzie...wounded... Bailey, Bowski, Eckert, T. Devaux, N. Devaux, Nelson...is that all?"
Total silence greeted him.
"Okay, then I'm pretty sure the tanks will secure a perimeter. Let's set up camp people. Oh, and don't forget to hand in any tags you've got." Bailey, Eckert, and N. Devaux brought him a few tags of those, he already knew were gone. He turned to face the city, and smiled briefly. He knew what was coming. He felt ready. And the loss of his friends in just one and a half days' fighting had hardened him for the better. He didn't feel ready, he was ready. He returned to the platoon and aided them in setting up camp.