08-31-2019, 06:02 AM
BATTLE OF POINT ALPHA - PART I
Take Out The Turrets
July 30th, 1991 - 4:02 PM
Off the Coast of Southern Bjeorg
![[Image: maxresdefault.jpg]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/OFtiB7pHfjI/maxresdefault.jpg)
The ZMS Upham roared with the exhaust of jet fumes as bombers soared off her deck and into the darkened sky. Huge cumulonimbus storm clouds blocked the sun, and rain was beginning to fall. Water vapor flew into the air in visible spiral velocities as each bomber raced off the platform and above the waves, circling the gathered fleet and gaining altitude to create a formation. Admiral Tavoka's voice chirped over the speakers on the Upham, signaling a wave of landing craft to start speeding towards the shore. The invasion was about to begin.
As the rain streaked the cockpit glass in the rapidly moving jet, Captain Jimmy Bonello brought his headset over his ears and spoke to his fellow pilots.
"Alright, boys," he squawked through the intercom, "cloud cover is heavier than we expected, but that's okay. We're just going to have to fly a bit lower than usual. Set bearing for 316 meters."
"Copy, Captain."
The bombers streaked through the clouds and began descending as their radar screens flashed the marked locations of Bjeorg artillery positions. The vapor of the clouds cleared around Bonello's visor and the cliffs and beaches of Bjeorg loomed a few miles ahead. A small fishing village located at the opening of a gorge and wide plain next to the white-faced plateau, simply marked as "Point Alpha" by Zamastanian command, was the visible proxy for the bomber's targets. On the hill above the village, two turret entrenchments had been sighted by surveillance. They had sights of the shallow water next to the village. The first Zamastanian boats would land troops there. About three miles north was the second village, which was on a wider beach with fewer elevated areas. That would be the premier landing zone. However, the bombers had to take out the south entrenchments before clearing any bunkers on the north beach.
"Lock target, bingo." Bonello said, citing the turrets that would soon be on the receiving end of several missiles and bombs from the bombers. "Fire away."
The bombers shuddered as the missiles dropped from the wings and streaked their exhaust forward and down at an angle towards the separatist bunkers.
Aboard a Zamastanian landing craft...
Private Nicholas Henners held his rifle in one hand and his helmet down over his eyes with the other to keep the rain away. Surrounded and packed into the landing craft with 75 other soldiers, the roar of jets caught their attention. Looking up to the sky above them, the bombers seemed through the clouds, leaving lines in their wake. With a whifffff, the planes launched their missiles which soared fast ahead with light marking their trail. A flash on the cliff face and a massive eruption of rock and dirt, following by the deafening crack of the explosion signaled the impact of the missiles in the bunker. As rock collapsed down into the sea and smaller explosions dotted the cliff face, tracer fire and the ricking sounds of turrets firing illuminated through the falling rain. More riveting blasts quickly put an end to the returning fire.
Nicholas jerked his head to attention as his corporal shouted.
"Landing preparation!"
To Nicholas' left, his friend Perch was turning green.
"Approaching the shore! Sixty seconds!"
Nicholas looked at his rifle, sheltering the safety with his hand to see if it was off. It was.
"Thirty seconds!"
Time was flying past quickly. The craft shuddered as a booming thud rocked the metal and water spilled over the open sides. A mortar had exploded in the water outside the vessel. Nicholas was beginning to shake. A mix of the cold sea air and the adrenaline.
"Ten seconds!"
The craft accelerated, lurching forward and churning smoke out of its exhaust. A whizz of a bullet overhead caught Nicholas' ire. They're already shooting at us.., Nicholas thought to himself.
"Landing now!"
The landing gate dropped. The water splashed forward. The craft's turret gunner shouted and opened fire, sending shell casings bouncing onto the soldier's helmets.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Nicholas stumbled over someone's foot, but gained his heading and lifted his rifle, dropping his feet into the shallow water and wading onto shore in the heavy rain.
Take Out The Turrets
July 30th, 1991 - 4:02 PM
Off the Coast of Southern Bjeorg
The ZMS Upham roared with the exhaust of jet fumes as bombers soared off her deck and into the darkened sky. Huge cumulonimbus storm clouds blocked the sun, and rain was beginning to fall. Water vapor flew into the air in visible spiral velocities as each bomber raced off the platform and above the waves, circling the gathered fleet and gaining altitude to create a formation. Admiral Tavoka's voice chirped over the speakers on the Upham, signaling a wave of landing craft to start speeding towards the shore. The invasion was about to begin.
As the rain streaked the cockpit glass in the rapidly moving jet, Captain Jimmy Bonello brought his headset over his ears and spoke to his fellow pilots.
"Alright, boys," he squawked through the intercom, "cloud cover is heavier than we expected, but that's okay. We're just going to have to fly a bit lower than usual. Set bearing for 316 meters."
"Copy, Captain."
The bombers streaked through the clouds and began descending as their radar screens flashed the marked locations of Bjeorg artillery positions. The vapor of the clouds cleared around Bonello's visor and the cliffs and beaches of Bjeorg loomed a few miles ahead. A small fishing village located at the opening of a gorge and wide plain next to the white-faced plateau, simply marked as "Point Alpha" by Zamastanian command, was the visible proxy for the bomber's targets. On the hill above the village, two turret entrenchments had been sighted by surveillance. They had sights of the shallow water next to the village. The first Zamastanian boats would land troops there. About three miles north was the second village, which was on a wider beach with fewer elevated areas. That would be the premier landing zone. However, the bombers had to take out the south entrenchments before clearing any bunkers on the north beach.
"Lock target, bingo." Bonello said, citing the turrets that would soon be on the receiving end of several missiles and bombs from the bombers. "Fire away."
The bombers shuddered as the missiles dropped from the wings and streaked their exhaust forward and down at an angle towards the separatist bunkers.
Aboard a Zamastanian landing craft...
Private Nicholas Henners held his rifle in one hand and his helmet down over his eyes with the other to keep the rain away. Surrounded and packed into the landing craft with 75 other soldiers, the roar of jets caught their attention. Looking up to the sky above them, the bombers seemed through the clouds, leaving lines in their wake. With a whifffff, the planes launched their missiles which soared fast ahead with light marking their trail. A flash on the cliff face and a massive eruption of rock and dirt, following by the deafening crack of the explosion signaled the impact of the missiles in the bunker. As rock collapsed down into the sea and smaller explosions dotted the cliff face, tracer fire and the ricking sounds of turrets firing illuminated through the falling rain. More riveting blasts quickly put an end to the returning fire.
Nicholas jerked his head to attention as his corporal shouted.
"Landing preparation!"
To Nicholas' left, his friend Perch was turning green.
"Approaching the shore! Sixty seconds!"
Nicholas looked at his rifle, sheltering the safety with his hand to see if it was off. It was.
"Thirty seconds!"
Time was flying past quickly. The craft shuddered as a booming thud rocked the metal and water spilled over the open sides. A mortar had exploded in the water outside the vessel. Nicholas was beginning to shake. A mix of the cold sea air and the adrenaline.
"Ten seconds!"
The craft accelerated, lurching forward and churning smoke out of its exhaust. A whizz of a bullet overhead caught Nicholas' ire. They're already shooting at us.., Nicholas thought to himself.
"Landing now!"
The landing gate dropped. The water splashed forward. The craft's turret gunner shouted and opened fire, sending shell casings bouncing onto the soldier's helmets.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Nicholas stumbled over someone's foot, but gained his heading and lifted his rifle, dropping his feet into the shallow water and wading onto shore in the heavy rain.