OR1-EP5: Hymn of the Bridge (13)

In late July of the A.T.B., the 5th Infantry Regiment's remaining troops from the north-west of Rhodesia totaled around 500 men, and several of the regiment's elite companies, which were the main force of the battle, had been taken away by Colonel Duttmann, so Smilas was literally leading a group of old and sickly men to attack blindly. It may seem discriminatory to say that the remaining troops were old and sick - but the fact was that they were not elite. Under the command of Major Smilas, the soldiers methodically moved along the highway, preparing to attack the town that had previously been listed as a key target. In order to prevent them from being attacked by the enemy halfway down the road, Smilas decided to send McNeil on a reconnaissance mission so that he could draw up a more detailed battle plan.

Michael McNeil drove out that afternoon, and he was accompanied by several soldiers he did not recognize. They chose to sleep in the field at night and continued to get up early the next morning to drive. McNeil was supposed to follow his own unit into the mountains, however, at that time Smilas had given McNeil a special assignment that allowed McNeil, who was returning to the Transvaal and attending a meeting in the place of his chief, to stay out of the war zone. He had already watched over a hundred of his comrades turn into cold corpses during his last mission in Rhodesia, and he didn't want the same tragedy to happen again. Colonel Duttmann wasn't to be trusted; if Smilas had room for anything else after his heart was filled with utilitarianism, the Colonel's own eyes could only hold utilitarianism. McNeil was sure that, assuming the colonel was faced with a dilemma similar to the last campaign against the natives, he would likewise leave all his men and fellow soldiers behind and flee.

"What is this place?" The soldier driving the car asked McNeil, who had stepped aside.

The vegetation was fading away, and the bare earth and rocks were exposed, looking rather like a plundered town. It was perhaps in the nature of mankind to pillage, to plunder nature, to prey on their own kind, to habitually take everything from the world, and to think they had a set of truths in it. Some are even more vocal in claiming that this predatory nature should be applied to human society, and that the survival of the fittest is what ensures the collective prosperity of mankind. But predators don't produce new resources, and what are they going to do when everything to plunder is gone?

"... pit site, this used to be an area dotted with industrial towns." McNeil replied casually.

The road disappeared here; the potholed highway finally submerged in the deserted wilderness. McNeil jumped out of the car and grabbed his binoculars to survey the distant landscape before assigning a direction and asking the driver to head northwest of them. He then tried to get in touch with Major Smilas, only the intercom stayed a murmur and nothing could be heard. Frustrated, McNeil threw down the communication device, which was even less useful than his cell phone, and returned to the car, telling the driver to keep going.

The group was silent, just exploring the new road. They'd gotten far away from the main group and hadn't encountered any enemy pursuit along the way, and it didn't look like the rebels had placed any defense forces or ambushes along the road. It stood to reason that since the rebels were able to direct their troops to the front in unexpected places by all sorts of mysterious means, they might have detected Colonel Duttmann's movements, and perhaps had known that the defense forces would be attacking from the northwest. The rebels, however, continued to resist the frontal onslaught of the defenders in the southwest, while the vacant northwest strip had so far been spared a major invasion. McNeil surmised that the rebels wanted to limit the war to a single war of Rhodesia Against South Africa, and that these African Britannians would not want to involve the other colonial offices in it. Furthermore, assuming that Governor-General Herzog's allegations were true, it was likely that these Colonial Offices were behind the funding of the rebels or any other organization capable of causing trouble in South Africa.

But this can only constitute a reason for the rebels not to attack - why would the defense forces press on? With the exception of Colonel Duttmann, who is hell-bent on doing so, the defense forces stationed in the Northwest have made no movement, but have only gradually tightened their encirclement net in the footsteps of other friendly forces. If the Airborne Corps in the northeast was making all sorts of unusual moves because of the importance attached to it by Lieutenant General Wood, then it would be even more strange for the defense forces to neglect the northwest. Of course, perhaps the commanders will argue that they cannot bypass the mountains even if they launch an attack from the northwest ... This is true, but the flanking attack can at least reduce the pressure faced by the main force and contribute to a faster collapse of the enemy.

Considering that Colonel Duttmann's last order was to protect the property of those African Britannian merchants, McNeil had a new suspicion. The compromised faction of the rebels might have contacted the outlaws in the defense forces who were only interested in making a fortune out of the war, and this inexplicable standoff might be a deliberate opportunity for both sides to create. Colonel Duttmann was a bold opportunist who would try to take a bite out of even the fat meat in the mouth of his superiors. So, when the defense forces in the northwest secretly strike a deal with the rebels, Colonel Duttmann, who believes he is getting far too little, goes rogue, hoping to gain more leverage by hitting the rebel main force hard. But his plan has little chance of coming to fruition when his officer and the enemy have formed an alliance of interest.

Carl Duttmann's death was not to be regretted, only those soldiers should not accompany him to hell.

Michael McNeil once again pulled the newspapers that reported on the progress of the peace talks from his backpack and carefully analyzed the words used by the media reporters. The Rhodesian rebels also had their own controlled television stations and newspapers, when Governor-General Herzog magnanimously allowed these people to come to Transvaal to gather news material.

"McNeil, minefield ahead."

The car skidded across the wasteland for a few meters before coming to a stop, the harsh scraping sound causing McNeil to frown. There was still an endless wilderness in front of them, and to their right was a wooden sign with some warning signs painted boldly on it.

"How can this be a minefield? Is the warning clearly placed out there for fear that the enemy won't be able to see it?" McNeil picked up a stone and threw it forward with force, "... But there doesn't seem to be any other roads nearby."

"We're not carrying mine-clearing equipment." A few soldiers were so scared that they hid in their vehicles and didn't dare to get down.

"It can't be helped, since we've come this far, we can't easily return." McNeil clapped his hands, "Everyone, let's find a way to confirm whether there are mines here or not, and hope that this is just a prank by friendly forces."

Everyone got out of the car but none of them took the initiative to go forward, McNeil himself felt helpless, he didn't expect to come across a minefield halfway across the country. As was his habit, he would have chosen one of two options: either go around it, or simply order his troops to advance at all costs. On the battlefield, it is statistically more costly to risk being attacked by the enemy by demining than to go straight through a minefield. Some people who don't understand war accuse commanders who force their soldiers to rush into minefields to their deaths of being butchers and devils, and they don't understand that the military is no place for humanity and compassion. Efficiency and obedience trumped everything, and even McNeil himself admitted that the military was the most humane of groups.

"Who's coming?" McNeil retrieved a short knife slightly longer than a normal dagger from his backpack and pointed it at the shivering soldiers. Seeing that the crowd was unresponsive or even planning to run away, he walked up alone with a slight sense of disappointment, plopped down on the ground, and began to examine the soil behind the wooden sign. Seeing that McNeil couldn't see them, the soldiers crept back to their vehicles, leaving McNeil alone to check the road ahead. Someone seemed intent on just driving away, but was stopped by the other soldiers.

Michael McNeil nervously plunged his knife into the ground, trying to find any hard objects that might be in the soil. He kept turning over the surrounding soil and sighed as he saw many small insects crawling out of the dirt. There was no telling how long this war would last before it ended, or at least it wouldn't be as easy as Governor-General Herzog described it. Getting killed in a state of ignorance might be a blessing, those who were awake enough to take the desperate path would face unimaginable despair.

He worked for a while longer, never finding any mines. Michael McNeil stuck his short knife in the ground and stepped aside to rest under a large tree. There was no telling when Major Smilas's troops would arrive, and if they were delayed by this minefield, perhaps the risk to Colonel Duttmann would increase exponentially. He pulled the timepiece out of his pocket, which had less than two months left on it. McNeil put it back in his pocket and looked up to see the mysterious man in the black robe watching him.

"I have a question I want to ask you." McNeil wasn't surprised; it was normal for the other man to be around him at all times since he was able to send him to a new world.

"You should have asked your question last time." The mysterious man stood only a meter away from McNeil, indifferently watching McNeil get up from under the tree.

"Last time ... I forgot." McNeil scratched his hair in embarrassment, "I wasn't in a good mood at the time ... Never mind, I mean, who was that guy I saw in the Britannia Empire last time?"

"Which one?"

"The guy was wearing a black robe similar to the one you're wearing." McNeil gestured, "Only, he looked nothing like you."

"I cannot tell you the truth, then: partly because your description is incoherent, and partly because I am not obliged to answer your questions. I do, however, wish to tell you one other piece of news about this minefield." With that said, the Mystic extended his right hand and pointed to a wooden sign not far away, "Do you think that mines are actually buried here?"

McNeil took a few steps forward and then stepped back. He was a cautious man, and would not easily risk his life or the lives of others without a chance of winning, unless the time came when a choice had to be made.

"What kind of question is that?" McNeil replied hesitantly, "Is there a mine here if I think there is?"

"Alas, I am doing my best to prevent you from cutting yourself off so soon, but you do not seem to appreciate it." The mysterious man's visage suddenly changed, and McNeil saw the other man change his appearance several times in a matter of seconds, before finally changing back to his original form. He didn't see any face he was familiar with, so it seemed he didn't have to worry that someone he knew here was posing as this godforsaken fellow across the room.

"Then I hope this minefield is a lie some people use to hoodwink their opponents." McNeil gave his answer.

"Understood, good luck." The Mystic nodded and disappeared into thin air. McNeil took a few bold steps forward and kept walking past the safety line he had drawn for himself. The soldiers in the back couldn't help but scream when they saw McNeil suddenly become bold. But McNeil proceeded unharmed and reached another wooden sign unharmed. It appeared that there were no mines here, and perhaps the person who had placed the wooden plaque had hoped to frighten the enemy troops who were eager to pass through here, figuring that there was some probability that the enemy would decide to make a detour in a tense situation.

McNeil turned to his companions, who were still shivering:

"Don't be afraid, come along without fear! There are no mines here, and it looks like there are just some people who intend to scare people with the minefield sign."

None of the soldiers dared to advance of their own accord. When McNeil saw this, he was very annoyed; he could not understand why these men were so timid. Since they had decided to join the army, they should be ready to sacrifice at any time, or else they might as well hide at home and watch the news. He stomped to the front of the truck and grabbed one of the soldiers, dragging the other forward until he reached the end of the minefield. The other soldiers saw that both of them were safe and sound, and then they let their hearts drop completely, but they still didn't dare to just leave the safe area. McNeil returned with the soldier, who picked up his comm unit and tried to contact Major Smilas again.

"I thought you guys were missing." Smilas' voice sounded very muffled.

"Looks like the signal wasn't very good." McNeil sat back down in the truck, "Sir, we just came across a minefield, but after field testing, there are no mines here at all, so it's probably a friendly or rebel force that put signs here to scare people. If you guys come across the same minefield afterward, you don't have to waste time clearing it, just go right through it."

"Thanks for the report, McNeil." Smilas let out a chuckle on the other end, "I think you guys can return to the group, the enemy shouldn't continue to lay traps ahead ... Even the minefields are fake, so it seems like they've run out of ideas."

Michael McNeil disagreed with this view of Smilas. One should never let one's guard down before reaching the battlefield. It took him a few minutes to barely convince the Major to support him in continuing to explore forward with his soldiers, and it didn't look like Smilas wanted McNeil running around. Apparently, the Major was worried that McNeil's actions had attracted the attention of the enemy, which in turn would expose their entire plan.

McNeil ended the call and prepared to drive out of the area. He left behind two soldiers who would be able to tell the Major about the scene if Major Smilas' troops were about to cross the area. McNeil had specially selected what he considered to be the timidest to stay behind, and the others went on with him. The car bumped along, and couldn't help but cause an uncomfortable sensation that bordered on up and down in the stomachs of the soldiers. It wasn't until the outline of a mountain loomed in the distance that the uneven road was replaced by relatively flat ground. This was the edge of the abandoned pit, where countless vehicles used to move in and out daily, and whatever edges the ground had should have been smoothed out. McNeil remembered this place, he and Adalbert had once come to scout around this pit, and at that time he had leisurely mentioned to Adalbert about a possible battle that might have taken place here. No one would have guessed that McNeil's prophetic words had come true, and now a battle vital to the Matabeleland war effort was about to be fought here, or had already been fought.

The huge pit appeared in front of us, and the driver duly pulled his truck aside.

"The people who dug the pit are heartless, this place is not easy to pass through." The soldier driving the truck looked at the narrow road with a somewhat gloomy expression.

"It's close enough to that town to reach it on foot." McNeil opened the car door, "The people in the back don't move, I'll go to the front to take a look."

McNeil walked along the edge of the pit to the other side, there was nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to call the rest of his companions over when a strange instinct prompted him to continue. After crossing the edge of the pit, following the road ahead would lead him to the town, and McNeil trusted his judgment. By the time he saw an unusual protrusion beside a rock by the side of the road, he realized that the enemy had prepared an ambush. The soldier, apparently unable to maintain the same movement for a long time, had chosen to relax for a while, and as a result had left half of his body outside the rock used for cover and camouflage. Not wanting to alert the enemy, McNeil slowly retreated backwards, intending to tell his comrades the news once he had returned to his vehicle.

However, the enemy had obviously noticed him. Just as McNeil was about to retreat, the rebel soldiers in ambush had already poured out and were firing at him. Under the cover of the abandoned construction and mining facilities, McNeil fled back to his car, calling for other soldiers to join him. Ducking behind the car, he took advantage of the enemy's dead zone of vision to fire at the enemy ambushed on the high ground, firing several shots in succession without hitting his target. The rebel fire was concentrated in this area, and McNeil decided to avoid it and take a new offensive by hiding behind an abandoned excavator nearby. He was about to call on a few soldiers to follow him when he realized that the soldiers were still hiding behind the truck, too afraid to fight back. Bullets hit the edges of the bunker, sending sparks flying, sometimes just grazing the soldiers' faces.

"What are you doing?" McNeil burst into a rage, he finally felt intolerant of these men's cowardice, "Attack, that's an order!"

He subconsciously forgot that he was also a common soldier. Finally, one of the soldiers was willing to move with him, the two of them moved to the edge of the back of the truck and then quickly ran towards the excavator that was not far away. McNeil rushed out as fast as his eyes could see, rolled and crawled to the excavator, and noticed a rebel soldier moving towards the pit, so he didn't hesitate to open fire towards the enemy, killing the rebel soldier instantly, and his body rolled straight down into the deep pit. The soldier immediately behind McNeil didn't seem to be so lucky, he was shot in the right leg just as he took two steps, and when he fell to the ground and tried to get up, he was shot again through the jawbone, followed by two shots in the chest. The poor man struggled on the ground for a few moments and then ceased to move. The other soldiers on the sidelines, seeing this tragic situation, were even more afraid to strike at will, and just blindly fired in the direction of where the enemy was.

"Can't pin our hopes on them at all." McNeil was still dodging the enemy's pursuit, "These people only show unparalleled valor when dealing with militia and ordinary civilians, and they crumble at the slightest setback ..."

However, he had already chosen to fight alongside such soldiers, and it was too late to backtrack. McNeil took out his grenade launcher and fired the grenades at another group of sneaky enemies before he remembered that this had resulted in the loss of a reliable cover in his line of advance during the attack. His comrades near the truck were not aggressive, but they were relatively outnumbered and vocal, disguising themselves as cover fire for McNeil. As a result, McNeil was able to thrash his way through the enemy blockade and approach the site of their ambush. As he hid behind a rock and attempted to attack a rebel soldier hiding nearby, a bullet skimmed his scalp and nearly shattered his skull. Although McNeil dodged the bullet, the target of his attack sensed his actions and turned to fight him. After about a minute of tussling, McNeil managed to smash his opponent's head on a rock, and then used this cover to continue to launch counterattacks at his opponent.

After ten minutes or so, the rebels finally chose to retreat, abandoning their position to McNeil. The exhausting battle was a defeat for both sides, with four of McNeil's companions killed and the rebels leaving seven bodies behind. The fight itself was of no value except to waste hundreds of rounds of ammunition on both sides. McNeil demanded that all the bodies be thrown into the pit, where the others would await Smilas' arrival.

It was late in the evening of the day before Gene Smilas' advance party arrived near the pit, and they soon learned from McNeil of the battle that had taken place. It seemed that the rebels had been prepared for it, and the town there must have been filled with rebels on standby.

"Good fight." Smilas, who had been riding in the jeep the whole way, symbolically praised McNeil's battle results.

"Frankly, abysmal." McNeil sighed, "Sir, how can a soldier like that fight? I have to say the hard way: those soldiers of indigenous descent are much braver than they are."

"Yeah, they're just begging for food, the natives are asking for a living." Smilas glared at McNeil and turned his head rather imperiously to continue barking orders, "Don't think about it, McNeil. Our immediate task is to smash the heads of these crazy Britannian dogs, and we'll wait until after the war is over to discuss other issues ... That's not something we can change."

TBC


Chapter Summary:

Since the Code Geass universe never had any conventions banning the use of mines or cluster bombs, mines are still a nightmare for infantry.

Anyway, let's hope there are no more thousands of landmines buried in any corner of the world.