An Unwinnable War
Episode 6 - The Days After
March 18-20, 1977
5 minutes after Romeo Convoy Ambush
"The United States Armed Forces have been known for their effective and brutal psychological warfare methods against the White Fang during the onset of the Unwinnable War. The infamous 'Ghost Tape No. 10' is an example of the tools used in terror operations against the White Fang during the initial onset of war by MAC-NE LRRP, alongside liberal American and CIDG use of Punji Traps when working with Valean authorities."
- A History on American Remnant's Unwinnable War, page 62.
Memoirs of 1st Lt. Jay 'Raptor' Ruben;
"Romeo Convoy was ambushed. And the ambush was suppressed by MG fire and Helicopter 'gunship' support, that's for sure. I spoke to Clarent when I got to meet him back in '81, and he told me this story about how he discovered the WF grunts who opened fire on his APC were torn to shreds by the machine gun and rifle from the Slicks. When I managed to contact Zener in '82, he told me about Operation Wandering Soul II. But I wasn't able to get a lot, however, he did tell me that he helped transport a crate of speakers to LRRP units operating near the WF base."
"And that lead me to contact someone who was in the LRRP unit. Lieutenant Scott Miller, British-American. Our Lt. here was the leader of the original team that destroyed the White Fang outpost alongside CIDG. The guy was helpful, hell, he even wrote his memoirs alongside mine. Though he doesn't write it like it's a third-person novel, why, he wrote it as a first-person thing. Point is, that Lieutenant Miller was the guy who made a name for MAC-NE within Remnant. We took that outpost "
"Miller was also the guy who recruited the youngest American General in history. Pine. His story was from simple farmhand to LRRP informant, to trainee in the LRRP, then Drill Instructor... His story was adapted into a movie back in '84, and I'm quite unsurprised that people were questioning the fact that the brightest of minds of MAC-NE, with people such as Colonel Zwart, General Rogers, and Ozpin with his gang, were willing to allow a child to become an officer. Though he was officially enlisted under the Valean Flag, and thus was part of the Valeans up until '79."
"As for me? On 18 I was still stuck in Vermont, and by 20 I had arrived in Remnant. But the issue was that I had nothing to do in Remnant, so I didn't even contemplate writing anything down. The most exciting thing that happened over in Remnant was that Miller put the lessons from Vietnam to good use in screwing over those Whiskey Foxtrot. If I somehow write anything down, credit goes to Miller for being able to do something exciting. I just sat there and did nothing."
"Although I do remember the moment when we went public with our findings, FN Herstal tried to sue Atlas for their AKR design. It looked like a FAL, except it was colored in white, had a different stock, and was more in use with terrorists rather than the free world."
Jean Clarent - Valean Outskirts - March 18, 1977 (Earth Years) - 9:41 AM (Earth Time)
Having disembarked from an APC, Clarent went around searching and/or sweeping the area for bodies alongside CIDG troopers. While walking around the woodlands of Vale, Clarent saw a soldier trip on some branches, another one slam head-first into a tree, and someone else almost fucking up and nearly dropping a live grenade without the pin. Thank God the guy caught it, or else the grenade would be the death of the rest of the squadron.
"Private, put the pin back in, for the love of God." Clarent heard the unit's Sergeant say, and a beleaguered yet relieved sigh was his response. "Yeah, Sarge." Clarent's immediate reaction was to continue and move on searching. While he was doing so, the CIDG soldiers accompanying him were having a conversation that was pretty relevant regarding this.
"You think Hunters attacked us?" One of the CIDG men he got to know as Melor spoke up. Melor, while walking with an M16, was conversing with another soldier in the unit by the name of Tamerlane, who was crouching while inspecting bullet casings presumably left behind by their attackers.
"I'd know if they were Hunters, Melor. They'd be using more exotic weapons," Tamerlane held up a casing that was pretty large compared to 5.56. "This is not exotic. It's an Atlas cartridge." He brought it up. "AKR-62 Cartridge. 7.62. Enough to pierce through an unprotected person's chest and leave them gravely wounded at best." He pocketed the cartridge. "Hunters would use more extreme cartridges. Ala 12.7."
It was at this time that Clarent spoke up. "I'm sorry, but you guys never explained Hunters to me. I've heard of them from the rest of CIDG, but... well, I don't know much about them. Or much about Remnant." Clarent shrugged as the two looked at each other with understanding looks and then stared back at Clarent. Awaiting their responses, he didn't change his expression as he honestly just awaited the most bizarre things.
"Okay, so, Hunters - or specifically, Huntsmen and Huntresses - are the defenders of humanity from the Creatures of Grimm, the darkness choking Remnant," Melor explained, with Clarent raising his eyebrows in confusion. "Are they under a self-defense force, or...?" Clarent asked, with Tamerlane shaking his head.
"What do you mean no?"
"Hunters are technically independent contractors working for either a living or the thrill. They answer to almost no government and are trained in autonomous academies that answer only to the council of the Kingdoms."
"Hang on, Kingdoms?"
"Indeed. Wait, are you implying the United States is not a kingdom?" Tamerlane asked in genuine confusion. "No, we're a Republic. Root words Res Publica, which means Public Affair. We're a democracy where the people vote in a President as a figurehead with some authority to make decisions, with Congress and the Senate being the ones to put them in place."
"That sounds more like the Kingdoms." Wait a minute. What? "What do you mean?" Clarent looked at Tamerlane. "The Kingdoms used to have powerful figures in the form of the Kings and Queens, but soon the whole royalty thing was abolished and the position of Monarch has been closed off ever since." Okay, now this threw Clarent off. A Kingdom... that's not a Kingdom? That sounded more like a Republic.
"Do these Kingdoms have a senate?" Clarent asked, "Or Congress?"
"They do have in the form of the Councils. The Council is the ruling body of the Kingdoms. They're the ones who pass most of the laws and most of the actions. They're typically elected every four years."
"Okay, those sound more like republics to me," Clarent added. "When we finish talking about the Hunters, I'll lend you a textbook on our home's political systems I think I stored one back in the APC. I'll say this, though; Beware of Communism."
"...I'll be sure to note that," Tamerlane nodded. "Anyway, the Hunters train in autonomous academies that have their own set guidelines. They're still subject to the law but at times the autonomy makes the rules subjective to implementation."
"And somehow that doesn't cause a load of problems for Remnant?"
"Ah, no. We have a perfectly good reason. Remember the Grimm I mentioned when talking about the Hunters?"
"Yeah, what about 'em?"
"They're attracted to negative emotions."
"...What? They hunt based on emotions? Souls?"
"In a sense, yes. I've heard a theory somewhere that goes like this; The soul is capable of producing emotions, which are released into the world. The only people who can sense it? The Grimm. They are driven to things like terror, fear, anger, spite, hate, greed, discrimination, despair, and in any sense any just... emotions that's gonna get us killed. And so the Grimm sense these emotions and try to overrun Humanity."
"Uh-huh... so what you're telling me is that we now have souls?" Clarent shouldered the M16 in his hands. "Man, my Priest is gonna be so pissed." He smirked. He couldn't wait to tell people about this when this war was over.
"Yeah. As a result, generally, people are encouraged to be positive. I'd go into more detail but that's for another time. And then comes the most valuable parts of the soul; Aura and Semblances. Both of which are powerful weapons used by Hunters alongside their regular weapons."
The interest in Clarent began to show itself as he heard those words. He didn't know much about this world, but describing Aura and Semblances as powerful weapons? That was interesting. "Aura? Semblances? Okay, you might want to explain those to me. I'm genuinely interested now." He continued walking as the team began to speak while searching for bodies and casings, maybe even bloodstains.
"Gladly. Aura is an extension of the soul that manifests itself around the body of an individual who has had it unlocked. Aura is generally locked beforehand, but some compare it to a religious ceremony. It allows its users to survive multiple hits without the body itself being injured. The soul acts as a shield, and then there comes Semblances; the sword of the soul. Semblances are powerful tools in the hands of Hunters or just People with Aura. They're... to be blunt, bullshit. I once met a guy who could connect to technology and control it. A gal I met once had the power to make liquid infinite from one source at a time, and I remember that my ex-employers had glyph magic that let them walk on air. I hate life already."
"Uhhh..." Clarent was now in for a wild one. The soul acts as a shield, protecting the body from grievous harm? And literal superpowers that trumped anything on earth? Had this been an invasion, Clarent would be terrified. But since the Hunters were basically the only thing standing between his home and the demons. If anything, he's now scared of both. "Uh... alright?" Clarent shook.
"I don't have my Aura unlocked, unfortunately. I decided against it when signing up for SDC." He sheepishly said. "That leaves me on the same standing as you."
"...That's a relief, but still, to think that I could get caved in by some dude with literal superpowers? I think this world would be great as a comic setting."
"I'd take offense to that, but you come from a... rather peaceful in comparison world, I assume?" Tamerlane asked, and Clarent groaned. "Boy oh boy, you have a lot to learn." He added. Some venom in his tone as he remembered the shit he felt back in Chicago.
"But anyway, back to Hunters," Tamerlane amended. "They're trained by the academies to fight and destroy the Grimm, and this whole process takes four years, usually starting at age 17."
"Hang on, wouldn't you guys have an Army to fill in the gaps the Hunters don't fit in?" Clarent was now intrigued. "The ground, armored, mechanized, and air compartments of the United States Army exists and we don't rely purely on superpowered freelancers for a reason, y'know."
"Ah, funny that..."
"The hell? Do you guys not have an army or something?"
"Yes. We don't. Our Army was disbanded after the Great War as part of the Vytal Treaty."
"Who the FUCK has an actual army, then?"
"Atlas."
"...And how many Kingdoms are in Remnant?" Clarent's fists clenched. Nobody had to be this dumb enough to not build not even a Paramilitary! Did nobody here have the concept of State Security?
"Four. Ever since the Vytal Treaty, Atlas has been given the task of maintaining an army to protect Remnant."
"W-Why?"
"Because the Vytal Treaty's first clause was that the armies of the other kingdom would be disbanded, and in its place, the Mantlean - now Atlesian - military is to safeguard and protect humanity. Because they took upon the task of defense, they built an army. The only official army on Remnant."
"Not even Paramilitaries?" Clarent asked, gesturing at them. "I mean, you guys exist. You're technically a paramilitary under Colonel Zwart's command."
"True, but still, Atlas has the only army on Remnant. And with good reason. They're technologically superior in the military and scientific fields compared to the rest of Remnant."
"How technologically superior are we speaking?"
"I think they have air battleships wherever they go. Usually accompanied by big guns."
"Okay, I think I found the most impractical air force, then." Clarent snorted. "Air Battleships, really?"
"Yep. I used to see them as the strongest things in the air, but considering that you 'Americans' exist, I think Atlas is going to have competition. Hell, I used to work for them, and they treated me like shit. So, go America."
"Hehe, go America indeed."
The team moved on without major problems following them for now. Tamerlane and Clarent had just finished their conversation, but the Americans had learned a lot about the Kingdoms. The CIDG troopers however had yet to learn about the rest of America, but considering that their soldiers treated Faunus more like an amazing thing and not abominations was a treat.
Maybe the rest of the soldiers from the United States would follow suit.
"Hey, look. Blood." Melor spoke up, rubbing two of his fingers as the red liquid stained his thumbs and index finger. "Fresh, too. Directions lead over there," Melor pointed towards a tree to the right. "Let's go see where it leads us." Clarent followed Melor as he walked over all the leaves falling and the tree roots that filled the woodlands. M16 pointed upwards held up by one hand and the other hand empty, Clarent watched as Tamerlane held an M1911 pistol out, with a flashlight on the other hand.
"Blood trail's still leading here. Seems fresher." Melor crouched, putting his M16 down and inspecting the trail.
"How do you tell if blood is fresh just based on their color, man?" Clarent questioned. Usually, not many people would notice that, but Melor?
"Used to hunt animals, 'til I worked with the SDC. Worst mistake of my life." Melor responded, standing up and continuing to follow the trail of blood.
"Gotcha."
And with that Clarent noticed the blood trail getting larger. As if it spilled more. Wouldn't it have started spilling less...?
"We're close, man." Clarent motioned his hand toward a tree where the blood trail lead and curved around. "Let's go check it. We'll meet up with the rest of the Cav when we get there." Clarent put his rifle handguard in his other hand and began walking towards to the tree. Melor and Tamerlane followed him, sweeping the area to make sure nothing jumped Clarent.
When Clarent turned a left around the curve that led the blood trail to the tree, he swept his gun downwards to the source and finally found it.
A Young man no older than twenty-two, cradling a white-and-gray battle rifle that looked like a FAL. Bleeding from his stomach, and face concealed by a mask. What alerted Clarent to his role was the large, sleek radio-like pack on his back. He took one look at Clarent, and his eyes widened in horror as he tried to bring the rifle to bear against Clarent.
His response was to grab the thing by the handguard and rip it out of his hands. He was weakened by the bleeding, and thus really couldn't risk it. Plus, the guy cradled the thing before attempting to fire at Clarent. Shorter weapons existed for a reason, jackass.
"WE GOT A LIVE ONE!" Clarent shouted, holding the FAL.
Tamerlane and Melor sprinted, taking a moment to look at Clarent and then back to the man holed up in the trees.
Their eyes squinted and were replaced with anger.
"White Fang." Tamerlane spat with disgust, pointing his pistol at the now-cowering 'White Fang' soldier. Melor grabbed him by the collar and lifted him, the man cowering as the significantly stronger Faunus rifleman lifted him over.
"B-brothers, why..." The man spat out.
"Fuck you." Melor punched him in the face, and that instantly caused him to fall into unconsciousness. Or at the least, came out of it gravely injured. Melor put the man down, next to the tree, all while Clarent grasped the FAL in his hands.
"So... who are these guys?" Clarent asked.
"People who give us a very bad reputation." Melor crouched down to check on him. "Get a Medic. We have a Prisoner. He'll survive for long, even if untreated. Only makes the following conversation so much better."
As Clarent nodded and went to get a medic to tend to the guy Melor and Tamerlane had just captured, he had a major question nagging in the back of his mind that just wouldn't stop appearing.
"What kind of hell did we step into?"
Superpowers, Half-Animal People, Viet Cong but dressed in all white, and Shadow Demons attracted to Negativity who want to kill everything?
"Oh help me lord, for I do not know what I am doing." He muttered while walking to get a medic.
Neither of the next two days would be painful for him, though, as he got the opportunity to rest at a place the Convoy relaxed at.
Rather, someone else would have to suffer the painful days.
And all at the hands of LRRP.
Two Days Later
Scott Miller - Valean Northwestern Forests - March 20, 1977 (Earth Time) - 1:20 AM (Earth Time)
I'm going to note this down before I continue, but I actually don't remember much from the operation against the White Fang. But, in this memoir, here's what I do remember.
I distinctly remember hunting for the base which the prisoner - part of the White Fang, a supremacist terrorist organization - gave up knowledge of. Problem was, that we couldn't hunt during the day or get exposed. So we had to hunt for it at night. With CIDG helping us, since they had natural night vision and thus could spot things leading us towards the base.
To this day, I still think about my and my team's first reaction to the Broken Moon when someone pointed it out. We didn't notice it at all, and just assumed we had a regular moon. Too bad, though, because here it was broken. One of my teammates pointed it out and we all gawked at it. My team was comprised of three blokes from LRRP, one CIDG spotter, and our Ohioan Engie.
There was Eddie, the bloke with one of them L1A1 copies. The CIDG gal with us identified it as an 'AKR' rifle. He was our team's Marksman. There was Daniel, the arse with an M60. He was our Machine Gunner. The last bloke was Spencer. Canadian-American with the MM1. He was our Grenadier. These blokes were the members of my team and were my only companions before Remnant.
After Remnant, though, we had two new additions to our squad - at the time, at least.
The CIDG gal's name was Hopea Aelia. She was an Owl Faunus. She was our team's spotter and was given binoculars. I still kept in contact with her long after the war ended. She's the best spotter we had. Her gun was an M16.
And the Ohio guy's name was Alexander Miller. He was an Ohioan. Enough said. He was our Engineer, and his squad helped us set the traps that we'd planned to catch these White Fang fuckers in. He was left with us to dig up trenches, but he's a nice guy. Last I checked, he had a Model 97. Probably from his home.
And on 3-20, it was two days since Romeo Convoy got ambushed, and the 425th LRRP was called in to assist the war effort. I was briefed in a rush and had more questions than answers to those questions. One of those was the moon.
There we were, over in the bushes near the White Fang FOB. Waiting for a response to what we did earlier. Yesterday, when the FOB - dubiously called one - was visited by high-altitude bombing from the 26th ID. In the form of leaflets hastily printed warning them that they would either have to surrender to authorities or face combat. I looked at one of the leaflets myself. It was good as a leaflet, but it was heavily rushed.
And we were tasked with making sure they got the message. And if they didn't, then that was where the Ohioans came in. They lent us a Combat Engineer unit, which helped build a shitload of Punji Traps just outside of their bases. Some were ditch-activated, and some were tripwire-activated. However, what the kicker was was the fact that they somehow managed to do it without causing a load of ruckus. The Ohio boys had something with them, and I wasn't sure what it was.
But, at the end of it, there was us. I was overlooking the camp with a Starlight night-vis scope. Made sure that the WF who went to rest for the day were able to get the damn message. Eddie was with me, looking through another Starlight as he kept his bloody 'AKR' close. And Spencer was just itching to fire. The rest of the blokes were huddled around a dark camp, with only flashlights illuminating them.
"What do you think happened to the moon?" Alexander asked, munching a sandwich that he made before coming with the rest of the squad. "I mean, just look at it. We didn't send no B-52s after it." He spoke.
"Think it was Aliens?" Daniel shrugged, examining a paper drawing of the complex handed to him. I could tell what they were doing because I either asked them or saw them myself before I went sightseeing with the Starlight.
"God?" Alexander added. Daniel was silent for a bit, but he didn't need to fear, for his worrisome question was answered by Hopea.
If I may, I'd like to say that Hopea was one of the finest women I had seen. Curves enough to make someone jealous. Assets worthy of notice, and on top of that, a cheery smile coupled with hard-working muscles due to working in SDC fine labor.
My first thoughts on her? Well, they were about her capabilities as a woman. In hindsight, I was an arse who was balls-deep into the traditional gender roles. But, this mission with Hopea was about to disprove it. Hell, I was even willing to protest with her for Women's Rights. Remnant opened up my eyes to a lot of things.
Still, some of my first thoughts on her were also along the lines of "Damn, she's got it going on." Though I kept that to myself.
"Let me tell you a story." Her soothing voice silenced the rest of the squad. There was a reason I got married to her years later, after all.
"Once upon a time, there was a sun, alone, all up in the sky," She added, with me finally taking notice of her after. "The sun bathed one corner of Remnant in light, but there was no moon, leaving the rest of the world in darkness. When the humans got fed up with the dark, they begged the sun to go faster, with the hope that they would be bathed in endless light. At first, the sun was successful. But as time wore on and on, eventually, fatigue caught up with the sun,"
The blokes over back there were listening to her story. At the time, we didn't know if that solved or didn't solve the moon question. But we did get information from it. And some of it was of necessary use.
"When the Sun broke down, it detonated, taking away light from the Humans." She continued. I heard Daniel gasp, but I'm not certain if Alexander reacted. I did turn around to see, but I didn't catch anything. I stared back at Hopea, who was still telling the story to the other guys.
"When the Humans lost their light, they created a new sun and filled it with greater light. And thus, the original Sun, mourning its loss and replacement, mourned and mooned for years, until we called it the Moon. While the new sun had taken its place, the moon sat, all alone, and with enough light to brighten the night, but not enough to make it day." She finished, smiling as the team stared at her - me included - with wide eyes.
"Is that true, ma'am?"
"Oh, no, of course not! But, it's just one of many theories about the moon. The thing's been broken for years now."
"Uh-huh. I see." Daniel nodded, with Alexander finally finishing his sandwich.
"I'd tell more, but my shift's starting." Hopea stated, with me immediately being surprised and angry at myself. "Oh damn, how did I forget that we had shifts? I'll just call her." I thought to myself, coming out of cover and walking to Hopea.
"Yeah, forgot to mention that. Shift's starting, let's go." I motioned my thumb to the position where Eddie continued watching through a Starlight, but Spencer changed shifts with Hopea.
"See you guys!" Hopea waved as she walked with me back to the observation position. After Spencer exchanged shifts with Hopea, I crouched down and began seeing yet again through the Starlight.
"Are you sure that we'll have to resort to Plan B if this fails?" I asked, putting my eyes away from the Starlight and to face Hopea. She nodded and grimaced. "It's necessary. We can't expose ourselves. I'd love to introduce you people to Remnant, after all, it proves we're not alone. But you're an invading Army, and we're technically committing treason..."
I felt my face tighten in forlorn anger, in a sense. It's like I'm angry, but I'm sad that I know that I can't do anything about it. "No need to worry, I get what you mean. Still, just still, maybe in a better world..."
"Yeah, just maybe."
Plan B was particularly cruel. Even by MAC-NE standards. It involved sowing negativity through the usage of punji sticks to eliminate the outer patrols, and killing everyone inside. Since Aura was turned off most of the time, especially in a night patrol, WF troops would either land into a ditch or a Punji Trap and then leaving the poor fucker in there to bleed was meant to sow terror, since the Grimm were attracted to negative emotions.
The worst part of Plan B was how eagerly the rest of the guys agreed to it. The fact that the guys were willing to literally engage in shit like this... Well, then again, Hopea suggested that part of the plan. I have to thank her for being cruel enough.
I thought that Plan B was very cruel. Plan A was to bombard them with Leaflets encouraging their surrender 'to the proper authorities' and lay down their arms while doing so. And while staring down at the base, my hopes for Plan A being the only plan in use slowly died off as I saw several White Fang terrorists finally looking at the leaflets, presumably in confusion... then laughing.
I cursed my luck.
"Fuck, they're not taking it seriously."
"Goddamnit." Eddie cursed, with him putting away his Starlight and grabbing the rifle in his hand. I, for my part, was still holding the Starlight. At least, until I saw them tearing the leaflets and putting them to the ground. My eye twitched. They weren't willing to do this peacefully? Not even a surrender? Well, now I knew that they deserved everything that came to them.
Call it spite, but still.
"These people give us Faunus a fucking horrible name," Hopea muttered, venom in her voice as she checked the chamber of her M16. "I'd be more than happy to see them gone. One way or another." She racked the charging handle, letting a bullet enter the chamber of the gun. "I fucking hate racists."
"Are these guys actually that racist?" I asked, still curious about the whole thing.
"No. Some join to fight for rights, some joined because relatives bought into the cause, and some joined to be junkies. But, they will and have already given us bad names. Faunus, a word synonymous with Terrorists within Atlas."
"I... I see."
"Lieutenant." Hopea turned to me.
"Initiate Plan B." She stated determination in her eyes. I nodded. Well, there was no fucking way of going back. Better to go in balls-deep. After all, might as well eliminate a threat before it becomes a problem.
"I'll get the uniform. No turning back now." I said, getting up, leaving my Starlight, and walking towards the storage crate nearby where we put the uniform for Plan B just in case.
Well, that and a ton of C4. But that was for another operation entirely.
Still, I felt like this plan did not have a chance to work. However, looking back at it, I was way too stupid.
The White Fang is that incompetent.
Author's Notes:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I managed to finally finish this chapter. I'm thankful to myself that I managed to get this out. It took me a while, but I'm just crunching the whole thing. I'm just trying not to disappoint future readers, so I'm just producing more chapters. On the note of trivia, the names for the CIDG (Remnant) personnel still allude to the color-naming rule. The definitions are:
Melor and Tamerlane allude to Iron. Melor is Celtic for 'Iron Man' alluding to Iron. Tamerlane is a Persian name for 'Iron'. And Hopea is 'Silver' while Aelia means 'Sun'. Her name was themed on 'Silver Sunrise'. The CIDG unit is comprised of the conscripted SDC staff from the first and second chapters. Please note that I'm taking a lot of artistic license on my decisions, and I won't completely adhere to canon as I'm forgetful.
On that note, expect LRRP to make sure the White Fang feels terror in the next Chapter.
Ghost Tape no. 10.
See y'all next chapter.
Changelog: Cut down a few sentences on Miller's section, and overall edited it to be more in line with actual MAC-V SOG stuff.
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