Back at it again. Nothing interesting to say on my part, so let's get to it.
Also, a big thank you to everyone who took time to write a review, you guys are awesome!
"Difficulties break some men but make others." -Nelson Mandela
Beta: ThiccBuddha
Chapter 12
Sorrow.
An immense feeling of grief, woe, and regret. Something suffocating, something that devours all joy in life. Something that clings to you, refusing to let go despite your best efforts to fight back.
A storm of emotions roared inside Jaune, despite the blank expression he was currently forcing on his face. Anger, both at the Germans for obvious reasons, and at the higher-ups, whose mistakes had resulted in countless unnecessary deaths. Fear, because of the volatile and uncertain situation they all found themselves in now. Relief, because of the disaster they had barely managed to avoid. Pride, seeing how hard they had fought despite the odds having been stacked against them. Sorrow, because of all the lives they had lost.
All of which had turned out to be irrelevant in the end.
"The German assault has been overwhelming, and our forward defense units are falling back by the dozens," captain Lacoste spoke, face grim. "The first line has been breached, and the second is close to a breaking point. The Germans also have control over most of the forest roads now, allowing them to bring in their heavy equipment."
The platoon commanders of Lacoste's company had gathered to his tent for a debriefing after they had been pulled back from the fighting. They were standing around a small round table with a map spread on top of it, depicting the surrounding terrain that had become far too familiar to them as of late.
Hell, most of their uniforms were closer to the color of mud than their original shade of blue.
Jaune had thought platoons three and seven had had it bad when the fighting first broke out. They had been outnumbered at least two-to-one, likely even more than that. And they had been caught off-guard by the attack's size and aggression. As it turned out, they had been among the luckier ones.
"First, fourth, and fifth platoons have suffered heavy casualties, third, sixth, and seventh moderate ones," Lacoste continued. "The second platoon has been effectively wiped out, and lieutenant Brun is either dead or captured. The company can hardly be considered combat effective any longer."
None of the platoon commanders said anything, but a few exchanged worried glances with each other. Each of them knew the status of their own forces but had likely been unaware of the situation as a whole. Jaune included.
Trying to hold the German assault at all had been a mistake, an effort doomed to fail from the start. It had cost them dearly, with a large portion of their defending forces either falling back or crippled by the body count. And with the German armor and heavy artillery presumably joining the battle soon, things wouldn't be getting any easier in the foreseeable future.
"So what are we going to do?" Jaune asked, voice flat. The other platoon commanders remained silent, some of them looking relieved someone was willing to become the center of attention to ask the question in everyone's mind. Lacoste's eyes locked into his, and once again he noticed how tired the captain looked.
"We, alongside the rest of our forward defense sections, will form a new defensive line and rally our retreating forces. We will then hold off the German assault until they exhaust themselves, and launch a counterattack." Lacoste's voice was filled with disdain as he spoke, as if saying the orders out loud made him physically ill.
"That's it?" Jaune humorlessly laughed. One might have considered questioning the orders of a superior officer a poor career move, but after escaping a disastrous shitstorm by the nonexistent skin of his teeth, he just couldn't bring himself to care about promotions. Or demotions, for that matter. He, as well as every other soldier of platoons three and seven, was lucky to be alive. Every other remaining soldier.
They had only barely avoided another Eguisheim.
"We just lost half the company holding the line, unlike some others who didn't get off so easily." He had stopped laughing. " How does anyone who has even the slightest grasp of battlefield strategy still think it is a good idea?"
"Watch your tone, Arc," Lacoste warned. "I can be lenient from time to time, but my patience has a limit."
"They're sending us to die!" Jaune yelled, not caring about the scene he had put himself in. The rest of the platoon commanders had taken few steps away from him, leaving him alone under Lacoste's gaze. "For no good reason! We've already seen we can't beat the Germans conventionally. Something they're apparently blind to."
"Arc." Lacoste's furious stare and stern voice would have silenced him yesterday. But not now.
"Our high command is deluded, why the hell should we follow orders from them when they have no clue what's happening here? Or in case they do, they're both deluded and incompetent," he spat. "Their fantasy about a single decisive victory is a fool's errand, and all of us will be dead before they realize it. Us and France."
A loud smack brought his mind back from his rant that bordered on verbal treason, his eyes focusing on his surroundings once more. Lacoste's massive fist rested on the table, which had sunk a few centimeters to the ground under the force of the blow. Its wooden surface had cracked, and the piece of furniture looked ready to break in half.
"Arc, stay where you are." Lacoste's voice reminded him of a bear growling. "The rest of you, get your troops ready to move within three hours. Dismissed."
Ten seconds later the tent was empty apart from the two men staring at each other. One angrily, the other defiantly.
"I'm sorry for not offering you a drink this time," Lacoste broke the silence between them, sounding anything but. "But I do recall you not liking the last one very much, so it's probably for the best. More importantly though," his fist rose and fell down on the table again. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!"
Jaune was taken aback by the captain's outburst but kept his eyes locked into his. Before he could come up with a response, Lacoste continued. "The enemy offensive is still going, casualties are mounting, morale is at an all-time low, and you thought the best way to fix all of that is by taking away what little hope our people still have left. Absolutely. Fucking. GENIUS!" His last three words were each accompanied by his fist slamming down on the table, which was visibly creaking now.
"You don't like how things are going, I get it. Neither does anybody else, believe it or not. You are not the only one who can see the obvious writing on the wall," Lacoste glared. "But you are the only one not keeping quiet about it. Normally I'd find that admirable but right now, I can't afford one bleeding heart starting a riot."
"That's it, then? Bend over and take the abuse without fighting back?" Jaune finally opened his mouth. "The generals are old, and so are their ideas. We can't win this war by blindly following them like this."
"Arc, what is soldier's duty?" Lacoste's sudden question caused him to furrow his brows.
"To fight for his country," he easily replied. "To defend his family and home."
"Idealistic, but not the correct answer," Lacoste shook his head.
Jaune knew the answer the captain was expecting, having repeated the words dozens of times before. Never before, however, had they felt so difficult to say out loud. "Soldier's duty is to follow the orders of his superior, ensuring the chain of command is never broken."
"Indeed," Lacoste hummed. "We are both soldiers, Arc. The moment we start disobeying orders is the moment things start to fall apart. As strict and inflexible as our system is, blatantly going against it benefits no one."
"Running into a certain death just to appease someone who hasn't even seen the battlefield benefits no one, either," Jaune argued back.
"You're not wrong," Lacoste finally broke the staring contest between them, rubbing his eyes. "But these are orders from all the way up. Going against them would be desertion, and there's no time to call for a meeting to discuss this in more detail. My hands are tied."
"No, they're not!" Jaune yelled again. "You're important enough to make your own decisions. You have a better understanding of the state of this war than our supposed leaders. Not following senseless orders is not desertion!"
"That's enough, Arc," Lacoste interrupted. "As unpleasant as our orders may be, we will see them through."
Jaune lowered his gaze, biting his teeth in frustration. "We will all die."
"Possibly," Lacoste sighed, suddenly looking far older than he was. "Which is why not all of us will be going."
Jaune's eyes snapped back up.
"Your platoons are my rapid-response force, remember?" Lacoste said with a tired smile. "The rest of the company, or rather, what is left of the company, will join the rest of our forces on the defense. You and your section will not."
Jaune's mind felt like it had malfunctioned. "What?"
"Officially, the casualties suffered by platoons three and seven were too high to replace, and they disbanded as a result," Lacoste continued, digging up a bottle from underneath the table. "In reality, you will have your own orders to carry out while the rest of us hold the line."
"You… I… What?"
"You're not the only one who doesn't see eye-to-eye with our high command," Lacoste said, pouring some of the hazy brown liquid into a glass. "But there is only so much I can do. Refusing direct orders won't go unnoticed by them, nor unpunished." A smug smile flashed on his face before he downed the drink in one go. "Too bad some of those orders might not get delivered on time, and as such cannot be followed. This whole war is one logistical nightmare, after all."
"You've been going against your orders?" Jaune asked, eyes wide. "This entire time?"
"No, I have followed each and every order that I have received," Lacoste shot him a meaningful look. "Which is what you should be doing as well. Speaking of which," He poured himself another glass. "Your orders."
"Are these the orders that I should fail to listen to?" Jaune furrowed his brows.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, this one time. But, your orders." Lacoste turned his back to him, pausing for a moment. "You, alongside your section consisting of platoons three and seven, will not take part in the defense. Instead, your objective is this."
Lacoste's hand slapped down on the table once more, but this time he was pointing to a single dot on it.
"What is that?" Jaune asked, the whole situation still feeling unreal.
"The South Ardennes Supply Depot," Lacoste replied. "It is the largest and most strategically valuable supply station in the entire region. Whoever controls it dictates the pace of the war in the Ardennes." His eyes met Jaune's. "It fell to the Germans less than a week ago, and we're already feeling the effects. A large portion of our forces was reliant on the depot for food, supplies, and ammunition, and are now short on all three. It also oversees most of the region's roads, allowing the Germans to transfer their vehicles through the forest with little difficulty."
"They'd have a direct path to Paris," Jaune whispered.
"Yes," Lacoste nodded grimly. "Our line is holding for now, but there's no telling how long it'll last. We're running short on time. Which is where you come in." He broke the eye contact. "Your section's objective is either the capture, or alternatively the destruction, of the South Ardennes Supply Depot."
A perfect silence befell on the tent. Jaune could hear the wind outside, and the footsteps of the soldiers walking just outside the tent. Even his own breathing sounded loud to his ears.
"What," was all he managed to say in response.
"That depot is giving the Germans full control over the battles being fought this side of the border," Lacoste said. " Which is to say, all of them. We have no proper plan thanks to our high command and no chance with the depot in German hands. Pushing the boches out will be impossible so long as they control the base."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Jaune asked. And that was just the first of the many questions from the giant pile inside his head. How would they get there? How many Germans would be guarding the base? Why them? How did any of this make sense?
"I'm glad you asked," Lacoste replied, a tired smile flashing on his face again. "I actually have someone here who can help you with this."
The flaps of the tent moved behind Jaune, and he could hear someone stepping inside. A woman in full military uniform walked past him to stand next to Lacoste, carrying a machine gun on her shoulder. What caught Jaune's attention, however, was the color of the uniform, khaki instead of blue, as well as the beret the woman was wearing.
"Coco Adel, British Expeditionary Force," she spoke in French with a heavy accent, her voice oozing confidence. "I hear you have some Krauts that need killing?"
There we go, the Mad Machine Gunner (TM) joins the fray. May God have mercy on those Germans.