07-09-2018, 06:07 PM
Laeral
As soon as First Sergeant Brandon Lau's clock hit 15:30, the bombardment halted, and a sudden silence filled the streets. Brandon knew that on the other side of the river, the Lauchenoirian and Gonhogian and Kerlian troops who had survived (make no mistake, there would be many of them) would be emerging from their bunkers and their pieces of cover to engage the Coalition attackers they knew would follow. They'd also be racing to destroy the four bridges which separated the Coalition side of the river from Junta positions before he and his men could cross. "Forward!" he yelled, gesturing his squad to advance with his battle rifle. With a cry, they followed, and around and behind him other LNSF soldiers burst from cover and followed. In front of him, a Laeralian tank came to life and rumbled down the street towards the second bridge from the harbour. Their goal. Brandon glimpsed a few Skodesmen advancing as well, calling out in their strange language.
As they approached the bridge, a burst of gunfire came from the other side. Shit. The enemy was there. Brandon leapt into cover behind a bench, and fired back, more out of habit than to seriously threaten the defenders on the other side. As the shooting continued, Brandon figured from the sparse return fire that the Junta's men on the other side were few in number. But if the Coalition couldn't cross the bridge, they wouldn't advance. As the Laeralian tank roared up to the bridge, he yelled "To me!" and followed, ducking behind the tanks as it drove up the bridge. Behind him, his men, and the other LNSF soldiers present, followed, a few of them falling to fire from the enemy-held east bank of the river. As the tank reached about half-way across the bridge, it paused to fire a round at enemy positions on the opposite bank. As it fired, Brandon glimpsed a gout of flame from the other side of the river, and a rocket streaked into the side of the tank. A second later, another struck the side of the tank. The crew inside opened the hatch and jumped out, huddling with Brandon behind a row of ornamental planters along the side of the bridge. "Man-portable rocket launcher of some kind," one of them said in French, while peeking around the planter to fire at the enemy with his pistol. We're stalled here, Brandon thought. Won't be long until enemy reinforcements arrive and we're driven back. He saw that the enemy combatants trading fire with the LNSF soldiers were mostly huddled in doorways and behind a railing. There were maybe two dozen of them, popping up to fire. Brandon looked back, hoping for an equivalent missile launcher or RPG among his own side. He saw the distinctive tube being loaded by a two-man team back on the west riverbank and braced for them to fire.
The Laeralian missile struck the other side, creating a fireball and disorienting the enemy defenders. Another missile followed as Brandon, the tank crew, and dozens of other LNSF soldiers raced down the bridge. A machine gun opened up on the other side, scything down the first rank of soldiers, and Brandon cursed. And then from the air, a missile streaked down and destroyed the machine gun emplacement. Thank the Divine for Laeralian drones.
The LNSF men and women reached the other side, trading fire with the enemies down the street. Brandon himself glanced down at the uniform of the soldiers to see who had been killing his men. They wore Gonhog's uniform. As more Laeralian soldiers, as well as a few Skodenian specialists, crossed the bridge and joined the fight, the Gonhogians began to fall back before the advancing Coalition troops. Everything was going as planned. And then a tremendous explosion ripped through the air downstream, and the Laeralites looked up to see that the southernmost bridge, further downriver, had blown. The Junta's troops must have destroyed it. That would make further advance near impossible for the Skodenians there without rafts or boats. Sergeant Brandon Lau turned away from that, and ran down the street to re-join his squad, rifle in his hands. His white armband with characters on it in black practically shone in the afternoon sun. Fortitude.
Gonhog
1530 Hours, 1st Specialized Platoon, 7th Infantry Division, Summersea
The barrage stopped as soon as it started, leaving the platoon with only around 33 men to fight.
Fisher grabbed his Gonhogian PL-3* and stepped out of the bunker, his men following him, and he began shouting orders.
"Alright firesquads, evens of the left and odds on the right, lower numbers closer to the front."
Using sandbags and metal sheets as cover, he formed a V shape with his troops, with the machine gun in the front. He was to the immediate right of the gun, along with Private 01 and 04, the comms guy, next to him.
"04, how much longer until reinforcements."
"Command said 3 minutes until 19th, 21st, and the Specialized 501st Platoons arrive, another 5 until a heavy tank and 3 medium ones get here. By the time they get here, the bulk of the divisions will be leaving main command to bulk up further."
Fisher nodded. 180 seconds was the only thing separating certain death and the only chance of survival they had. There was no way in hell they were going to hold a chokepoint for much longer. He swallowed, and then took a deep breath. Hearing orders from the other side of the bridge, he called to his men.
"Ready!"
170 seconds.
The men became visible. Some men from both sides took pot-shots, only a handful actually hitting. The Coalition forces were not even to the edge of the bridge.
165 seconds.
Fisher closed his eyes for a brief moment, calming himself. Opening his eyes, he could see the enemy approaching. Readying his PL-3, he paused for a brief moment.
"Fire!"
Shots rang out from their positions, firing bursts of accurate fire. They didn't get the title "Specialized" for nothing. These were the top of their class, experienced through Gonhogs's gruelling training program they were sent to after their high scores during basic training. Fisher locked on to a man, fired, and saw the man go down, dead before he hit the ground. The Laeralians quickly began taking cover and fired back, hitting one of his guys to the right.
155 seconds.
A tank began to roll towards the bridge. He swore, and turning to someone to his right, he shouted,"07 and 09! Load that rocket and fire on that tank!"
The privates did just that, loading the rocket into the launcher, taking a second to aim, then pulling the trigger. The rockets fired out, hitting the sides of the tank in a small plume of fire and smoke. The Laeralians on the other side taking cover again before another rocket fire from their side.
It happened to fast, and before they knew it, a firesquad down the right side was hit, and the medic rushed over, ducking behind cover on his way there.
145 seconds.
The Laeralians rushed forward, the gunners shooting down a dozen before another rocket hit them. The Laeralians continued to push forward, while Fisher and his men held their ground, picking off as many as they could. Yet, no matter what they did, there were just too many. Ultimately, the two forces met and the melee began.
Fisher watched as man after man fell, taking a couple of Laeralians with them as they fell. They had failed. The bridge was theirs.
"Fall back! Retreat!"
Fisher grabbed someone on the ground and ran as the Laeralians pressed further up the bridge. Taking cover in an abandoned shoe shop, Fisher started to bandage his comrade while 04 radioed command. The rest of his platoon was scattered close by, ready for a counter attack. Although they had failed to stop the bridge being taken, they were ready to take it back to the Laeralians, although Fisher had a sinking feeling command wasn't up to it.
Kerlile
The water level in the river dropped noticeably as the railway tunnel collapsed and flooded. Captain Jolene Walters signalled to her squad and they proceeded towards the nearby bridge. A flock of sheep watched them suspiciously from a nearby field. The women placed explosives all along the bridge but before they could finish, machine gun fire erupted from the other side, and the women on the bridge dropped, some falling into the water.
Walters swore. Some Skodesmen began to cross the bridge, firing at her women. Frustrated, she slammed her hand on the remote trigger for the explosives. The bridge, and the Skodesmen on it exploded into fire. To the west, the other bridge the Kerlians were guarding blew a few moments later.
Walters signalled a pair of enlisted troops in charge of the rocket launcher, and soon the Skodenians on the other side of what was once a bridge were gone. Walters clasped her hands behind her back and watched the other riverbank. The Skodenians seemed to have retreated from the area. But one could never be too careful.
Meanwhile, to the east, Colonel Chloe Conde was yelling orders to the Kerlian troops near the Lauchenoirian Army Base. The Skodenians were already halfway over the motorway bridge, which was sturdier than the others. General Sanchez was nowhere in sight. She turned to Lieutenant O'Brien.
"Order most of our troops to return to this area once the other bridges are destroyed. Nobody's getting across the river up there, and there's nothing much to the west anyway. We need more people defending that bridge."
She glanced towards where she suspected the cowardly Sanchez was hiding, scowled and stuffed extra ammunition in her pockets, heading towards the fighting.
Lauchenoiria
The remaining Lauchenoirian troops emerged from their encampment, glancing back at the smoking rubble of parts the army base. General Sanchez ordered the troops to head to the motorway bridge and hold it against the Skodenians. He stayed hidden inside one of the remaining structures.
Sergeant Peterson led his squad to the bridge to the north of the motorway with explosives, only to find the Kerlians already there and the bridge in pieces. One of their officers gave Peterson a patronising smile and then turned away without saying anything. Peterson repressed the urge to shoot her.
"Come on, the Skodenians are going to put up a hell of a fight," Peterson said, leading his squad back down the river. As the motorway bridge came into sight, he noticed that Skodenian tanks were already halfway across the bridge. Something exploded nearby and two of his men fell to the ground.
One was screaming and missing his legs, the other was missing far more vital parts. Peterson cursed and yanked the dog tag off the body. He radioed for medical assistance then left the injured with his squad's medic, continuing to the bridge.
The Lauchenoirians were exchanging fire with the Coalition troops advancing over the bridge. Peterson's squad opened fire on a cluster of Skodenians who had reached their side of the bridge. Some of the Skodenians managed to take cover behind a fallen part of the bridge's barrier, returning fire.
Peterson soon lost track of most of the others as the world around him turned into a steady stream of death and screaming. The only sound to distract from the screams was the steady machine gun fire and the occasional explosion. It occurred to him after a while that they were no longer at the edge of the bridge, and in fact had been pushed back rather far.
He began to call out an order to his squad when a nearby explosion knocked him off his feet. He rolled over and gasped for breath. He couldn't stand up. He noticed a Skodenian nearby and held up his hands.
"I surrender!" he yelled, unsure of if he could be heard. "I surrender!"
Sections labelled [nation]Laeral[/nation] and [nation]Gonhog[/nation] written by those nations.
As soon as First Sergeant Brandon Lau's clock hit 15:30, the bombardment halted, and a sudden silence filled the streets. Brandon knew that on the other side of the river, the Lauchenoirian and Gonhogian and Kerlian troops who had survived (make no mistake, there would be many of them) would be emerging from their bunkers and their pieces of cover to engage the Coalition attackers they knew would follow. They'd also be racing to destroy the four bridges which separated the Coalition side of the river from Junta positions before he and his men could cross. "Forward!" he yelled, gesturing his squad to advance with his battle rifle. With a cry, they followed, and around and behind him other LNSF soldiers burst from cover and followed. In front of him, a Laeralian tank came to life and rumbled down the street towards the second bridge from the harbour. Their goal. Brandon glimpsed a few Skodesmen advancing as well, calling out in their strange language.
As they approached the bridge, a burst of gunfire came from the other side. Shit. The enemy was there. Brandon leapt into cover behind a bench, and fired back, more out of habit than to seriously threaten the defenders on the other side. As the shooting continued, Brandon figured from the sparse return fire that the Junta's men on the other side were few in number. But if the Coalition couldn't cross the bridge, they wouldn't advance. As the Laeralian tank roared up to the bridge, he yelled "To me!" and followed, ducking behind the tanks as it drove up the bridge. Behind him, his men, and the other LNSF soldiers present, followed, a few of them falling to fire from the enemy-held east bank of the river. As the tank reached about half-way across the bridge, it paused to fire a round at enemy positions on the opposite bank. As it fired, Brandon glimpsed a gout of flame from the other side of the river, and a rocket streaked into the side of the tank. A second later, another struck the side of the tank. The crew inside opened the hatch and jumped out, huddling with Brandon behind a row of ornamental planters along the side of the bridge. "Man-portable rocket launcher of some kind," one of them said in French, while peeking around the planter to fire at the enemy with his pistol. We're stalled here, Brandon thought. Won't be long until enemy reinforcements arrive and we're driven back. He saw that the enemy combatants trading fire with the LNSF soldiers were mostly huddled in doorways and behind a railing. There were maybe two dozen of them, popping up to fire. Brandon looked back, hoping for an equivalent missile launcher or RPG among his own side. He saw the distinctive tube being loaded by a two-man team back on the west riverbank and braced for them to fire.
The Laeralian missile struck the other side, creating a fireball and disorienting the enemy defenders. Another missile followed as Brandon, the tank crew, and dozens of other LNSF soldiers raced down the bridge. A machine gun opened up on the other side, scything down the first rank of soldiers, and Brandon cursed. And then from the air, a missile streaked down and destroyed the machine gun emplacement. Thank the Divine for Laeralian drones.
The LNSF men and women reached the other side, trading fire with the enemies down the street. Brandon himself glanced down at the uniform of the soldiers to see who had been killing his men. They wore Gonhog's uniform. As more Laeralian soldiers, as well as a few Skodenian specialists, crossed the bridge and joined the fight, the Gonhogians began to fall back before the advancing Coalition troops. Everything was going as planned. And then a tremendous explosion ripped through the air downstream, and the Laeralites looked up to see that the southernmost bridge, further downriver, had blown. The Junta's troops must have destroyed it. That would make further advance near impossible for the Skodenians there without rafts or boats. Sergeant Brandon Lau turned away from that, and ran down the street to re-join his squad, rifle in his hands. His white armband with characters on it in black practically shone in the afternoon sun. Fortitude.
Gonhog
1530 Hours, 1st Specialized Platoon, 7th Infantry Division, Summersea
The barrage stopped as soon as it started, leaving the platoon with only around 33 men to fight.
Fisher grabbed his Gonhogian PL-3* and stepped out of the bunker, his men following him, and he began shouting orders.
"Alright firesquads, evens of the left and odds on the right, lower numbers closer to the front."
Using sandbags and metal sheets as cover, he formed a V shape with his troops, with the machine gun in the front. He was to the immediate right of the gun, along with Private 01 and 04, the comms guy, next to him.
"04, how much longer until reinforcements."
"Command said 3 minutes until 19th, 21st, and the Specialized 501st Platoons arrive, another 5 until a heavy tank and 3 medium ones get here. By the time they get here, the bulk of the divisions will be leaving main command to bulk up further."
Fisher nodded. 180 seconds was the only thing separating certain death and the only chance of survival they had. There was no way in hell they were going to hold a chokepoint for much longer. He swallowed, and then took a deep breath. Hearing orders from the other side of the bridge, he called to his men.
"Ready!"
170 seconds.
The men became visible. Some men from both sides took pot-shots, only a handful actually hitting. The Coalition forces were not even to the edge of the bridge.
165 seconds.
Fisher closed his eyes for a brief moment, calming himself. Opening his eyes, he could see the enemy approaching. Readying his PL-3, he paused for a brief moment.
"Fire!"
Shots rang out from their positions, firing bursts of accurate fire. They didn't get the title "Specialized" for nothing. These were the top of their class, experienced through Gonhogs's gruelling training program they were sent to after their high scores during basic training. Fisher locked on to a man, fired, and saw the man go down, dead before he hit the ground. The Laeralians quickly began taking cover and fired back, hitting one of his guys to the right.
155 seconds.
A tank began to roll towards the bridge. He swore, and turning to someone to his right, he shouted,"07 and 09! Load that rocket and fire on that tank!"
The privates did just that, loading the rocket into the launcher, taking a second to aim, then pulling the trigger. The rockets fired out, hitting the sides of the tank in a small plume of fire and smoke. The Laeralians on the other side taking cover again before another rocket fire from their side.
It happened to fast, and before they knew it, a firesquad down the right side was hit, and the medic rushed over, ducking behind cover on his way there.
145 seconds.
The Laeralians rushed forward, the gunners shooting down a dozen before another rocket hit them. The Laeralians continued to push forward, while Fisher and his men held their ground, picking off as many as they could. Yet, no matter what they did, there were just too many. Ultimately, the two forces met and the melee began.
Fisher watched as man after man fell, taking a couple of Laeralians with them as they fell. They had failed. The bridge was theirs.
"Fall back! Retreat!"
Fisher grabbed someone on the ground and ran as the Laeralians pressed further up the bridge. Taking cover in an abandoned shoe shop, Fisher started to bandage his comrade while 04 radioed command. The rest of his platoon was scattered close by, ready for a counter attack. Although they had failed to stop the bridge being taken, they were ready to take it back to the Laeralians, although Fisher had a sinking feeling command wasn't up to it.
Kerlile
The water level in the river dropped noticeably as the railway tunnel collapsed and flooded. Captain Jolene Walters signalled to her squad and they proceeded towards the nearby bridge. A flock of sheep watched them suspiciously from a nearby field. The women placed explosives all along the bridge but before they could finish, machine gun fire erupted from the other side, and the women on the bridge dropped, some falling into the water.
Walters swore. Some Skodesmen began to cross the bridge, firing at her women. Frustrated, she slammed her hand on the remote trigger for the explosives. The bridge, and the Skodesmen on it exploded into fire. To the west, the other bridge the Kerlians were guarding blew a few moments later.
Walters signalled a pair of enlisted troops in charge of the rocket launcher, and soon the Skodenians on the other side of what was once a bridge were gone. Walters clasped her hands behind her back and watched the other riverbank. The Skodenians seemed to have retreated from the area. But one could never be too careful.
Meanwhile, to the east, Colonel Chloe Conde was yelling orders to the Kerlian troops near the Lauchenoirian Army Base. The Skodenians were already halfway over the motorway bridge, which was sturdier than the others. General Sanchez was nowhere in sight. She turned to Lieutenant O'Brien.
"Order most of our troops to return to this area once the other bridges are destroyed. Nobody's getting across the river up there, and there's nothing much to the west anyway. We need more people defending that bridge."
She glanced towards where she suspected the cowardly Sanchez was hiding, scowled and stuffed extra ammunition in her pockets, heading towards the fighting.
Lauchenoiria
The remaining Lauchenoirian troops emerged from their encampment, glancing back at the smoking rubble of parts the army base. General Sanchez ordered the troops to head to the motorway bridge and hold it against the Skodenians. He stayed hidden inside one of the remaining structures.
Sergeant Peterson led his squad to the bridge to the north of the motorway with explosives, only to find the Kerlians already there and the bridge in pieces. One of their officers gave Peterson a patronising smile and then turned away without saying anything. Peterson repressed the urge to shoot her.
"Come on, the Skodenians are going to put up a hell of a fight," Peterson said, leading his squad back down the river. As the motorway bridge came into sight, he noticed that Skodenian tanks were already halfway across the bridge. Something exploded nearby and two of his men fell to the ground.
One was screaming and missing his legs, the other was missing far more vital parts. Peterson cursed and yanked the dog tag off the body. He radioed for medical assistance then left the injured with his squad's medic, continuing to the bridge.
The Lauchenoirians were exchanging fire with the Coalition troops advancing over the bridge. Peterson's squad opened fire on a cluster of Skodenians who had reached their side of the bridge. Some of the Skodenians managed to take cover behind a fallen part of the bridge's barrier, returning fire.
Peterson soon lost track of most of the others as the world around him turned into a steady stream of death and screaming. The only sound to distract from the screams was the steady machine gun fire and the occasional explosion. It occurred to him after a while that they were no longer at the edge of the bridge, and in fact had been pushed back rather far.
He began to call out an order to his squad when a nearby explosion knocked him off his feet. He rolled over and gasped for breath. He couldn't stand up. He noticed a Skodenian nearby and held up his hands.
"I surrender!" he yelled, unsure of if he could be heard. "I surrender!"
Sections labelled [nation]Laeral[/nation] and [nation]Gonhog[/nation] written by those nations.
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