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.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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.
