Slavianka Artillery Academy, Munzo
"Artillery is the deciding factor. You can strike enemies from a great distance, wreaking havoc amongst them. Remember. To you, the artilleryman, all that matters is what you are shooting survives and what you are shooting at does not."
A week after the preliminary air attacks on the Galladian border, the rebels accelerated their battle preparations. Artillery would be a key factor in the upcoming attack, as many Galladian cities were walled and heavily defended. In charge of the training of rebel artillery units was Junior Lieutenant Peter Brusilov. Due to the priorities of uniforms to native troops, Brusilov himself still wore his Soviet artillery uniform.
"Fire and move fast, tovarishchi," Brusilov ordered. "Fire and move fast."
"Javel!" the artillerymen replied.
"Range, 1000 meters! Load High Explosive!"
There was silence.
"Feuer!"
The 150mm Type 96 howitzers roared to life, blanketing a large paper target with their training shells.
"Cease fire!"
Brusilov observed the target with his binoculars. All projectiles landed on target.
He smiled.
"Good," he said. "That concludes the training for today. Dismissed!"
One day later…
Munzo-Galladian border
The clock ticked.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
"Feldmarschall Moltke!" a soldier called. "A transmission for you, sir!"
Moltke, who had been observing enemy positions on the other side of the border, read the transmission. He smiled and nodded towards another soldier. The soldier nodded in return. He raised a flare gun and fired a shot into the air. The flare flashed brightly in the air before floating towards the ground.
"We are the army of the people, gentlemen," Moltke said to no one in particular. "And an army of the people is unstoppable."
As if on cue, three squadrons of Kikkas screamed past overhead. Tanks clattered forward towards the enemy positions. Marco sat atop one of the Shermans, along with Simo, Leo, and Heinrich. Leo tapped on the tank commander's shoulder.
"Give the order to charge!" he yelled over the sound of the engine.
"Got it," the commander replied. The radios of the other tanks crackled to life.
"Charge! Charge! Charge!" the tank commander ordered.
The other tanks replied at random.
"Javel!"
"Understood!"
"Let's get 'em!"
"Sieg Freiheit!"
"Sieg Freiheit!"
"Sieg Freiheit!"
"Sieg Freiheit!"
"Sieg Freiheit!"
"We're under attack!"
"It's the Rebels!"
"Artillery! Open fire!"
"Enemy aircraft!"
A hole blasted open in the city wall, throwing rock and men everywhere. A Sherman rolled through the newly created entrance, its machine guns blazing. Its main gun roaring.
Leo and his men advanced through the wall after the Sherman had done so. He drew his sword and swung it in the air.
"Panzergrenadiers!" he yelled. "Charge!"
A Madsen clattered to life, spewing lead into columns of enemy infantry. Marco waved his hand.
"First squad!" he called. "With me!"
A grenade blew a house apart. Heinrich shoved a bunch of pots and other merchandise off a table, set up his Madsen, and fired away. Leo, now duel-wielding TT-33s (one of which he purchased against army regulations), casually walked in front of a group of enemy soldiers and elegantly dispatched them. Marco pointed towards a tall building.
"Simo!" he called. "Do what you do best."
Simo gave him a devilish smile.
"Javel, Herr Serzhant (Yessir, Mr. Sergeant)!" she replied. She leaped onto a nearby table, sniped another enemy, leaped off, and ran off to the building.
"The rest of you!" Marco called. "Firing line! Cover the North Road! Move!"
First Squad ran towards a row of crates, hastily erected by the enemy defenders as a makeshift barrier. The defenders who manned the position had already abandoned it. First Squad dropped down behind the barricade before opening fire into the charging enemy soldiers.
Simo, looking down the sights of her rifle, popped a few shots into a battery of ballistas before shifting her attention to the castle in the center of the town. She noticed something moving in one of the towers. Simo lined up the sights of her rifle one floor below where she saw movement.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
"... Surprise, asshole," she muttered. Her eye flashed and in the same second, she squeezed the trigger of her rifle.
She heard the breaking of glass, and possibly a satisfying splat, in the distance. Content, Simo jumped down from the building.
The body of the enemy Centurion, a hole poked cleanly through his skull, slowly sank to the floor within the castle. The Imperial officers backed away in fear. Suddenly the room above them exploded, sending dust and debris down through the stairs. Some of the officers were killed by the blast, but others managed to make it to the ground floor.
The doors burst open, sending one of the guards flying.
The clattering of rifles echoed throughout the room.
The Imperial officers backed away in fear as Leo stepped forward.
"The high command of this garrison, I presume?" Leo asked. "Forgive me for being rude but you are currently outgunned and outnumbered. On top of which you commander is dead. Disarm and surrender at once. Do so and your lives will be spared."
The Imperial officers looked at each other.
"You…"
One of the officers pulled out his sword.
"You rebel scum!"
He charged at Leo, who leveled his TT-33 at the officer's forehead.
The gun spoke once.
With a slight pause, the officer's limp body collapsed to the ground. Satisfied, Leo leveled his gun at the rest of the officers.
"Well then," he said. "Who's next?"
Narodasburg, 30km Southwest of Trulia
Gallada
An explosion rocked the ground as Imperial soldiers were thrown into the air.
The Artillery of Feldmarschall Doppeladler's New Model Army decimated all before them. They had recently received relatively modern 149mm Type 1 Howitzers from the Slavasian rebel forces. Compared to the cannons already in use, these breech-loading high caliber lanyard-fired guns, with their cased semi-smokeless ammunition, were a lot more effective at bombarding even the most heavily defended positions.
Doppeladler himself looked on as his New Model Army charged forward at the enemy, their bright red uniforms standing out against the grassy background.
"Did they have to be red?" he asked one of his advisors.
"What exactly are you referring to, sir?" the advisor asked.
"The uniforms," Doppeladler replied. The advisor sighed.
"Cheapest dye available, for now," he said. Doppeladler nodded.
"How goes the rest of the war?" he asked. The advisor shrugged.
"We recently received a report the Munzo rebels have finally attacked the border," he said.
"Seems like they renamed themselves the 'Federal Revolutionary Army.'" He looked over at Doppeladler. "Why 'Federal?'"
Doppeladler chuckled at his realization.
"We are not trying to make three independent countries, Herr Oberst," he said.
"We are trying to create one, powerful, unified state." His chuckle grew into a laugh.
"What a time we are living in."
Munzo-Galladian border
Some time later…
Marco sat down again, his uniform drenched in sweat. Simo sat next to him. She waved a baguette in his face.
"Want some?" she offered. Marco nodded. Simo tore the baguette in half and handed one half to Marco.
A tank clattered by.
"Looks like we can rest, for now," Marco said in between bites. Simo nodded as she began gnawing at her half of the baguette.
"So?" she asked. "What's next?" She began to twirl her hat.
Marco grabbed an en bloc clip and began to stuff it with some loose 8mm ammunition.
"We just head north, I guess," he replied.
"So we're going to continue to 'liberate' the province?" Simo asked, part of the baguette stuffed in her mouth.
Marco chuckled at the remark.
"Guess so."
Slavasian People's Army, Northeastern Garrison
2.5km from Slavasi-Gallada border
Same time
"Herr Leutnant," a soldier said. "The Feldmarschall requests your presence."
Galland looked up from his desk work and yawned.
"Tell the Feldmarschall I'll be right there," he said. The soldier nodded.
"Javel, Herr Leutnant."
As the soldier left the tent, Galland holstered the C96 which he had been cleaning. He picked up his officer's cap and placed it on his head before exiting the tent. He walked over to another tent, this one a little bigger than the others, and opened the flap.
"You called, Herr Feldmarschall?" Galland asked as he snapped to attention. The Feldmarschall was pondering over something on his desk.
"Um… Feldmarschall von Bonja?" The Feldmarschall finally looked up.
"Ah, Leutnant Galland," said he. "Good to see you, lad. Here, have a seat."
"Thank you, sir." The two sat down in their respective chairs.
"Right," von Bonja began. "To business." He pulled out a number of maps.
"Tell me what you know about the enemy positions by the border."
Galland nodded.
"There are enemy forts here, here, and here," he began. "There is an industrial city here where the Imperial forces are attempting to manufacture firearms. The dwarves aren't cooperating, however."
Von Bonja smiled at this.
"Meanwhile, the New Model Army is pushing enemy forces out of Narodasburg while the Federal Revolutionary Army is crushing all enemy resistance along the Casserine valley."
"And the Luftwaffe?" von Bonja asked.
"The Luftwaffe is bombing a number of enemy ports in the northern coast," Galland replied. "This will prevent any reinforcements from getting into positions to threaten us."
Von Bonja nodded in approval.
"Good," he said. "Tell the men to start packing their things. We move out tomorrow morning."
"Javel, Herr Feldmarschall," Galland replied. "Will that be all?"
Von Bonja nodded.
Galland gave a final salute before he left.
Von Bonja flopped back into his chair, humming the Internationale.
Author's notes: Hi guys! I'm back!
We finally get to see some of the different sides in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed.
Constructive criticism appreciated.
I guess I'll see you guys in the next chapter! Bye!
-Karl
