09-09-2019, 05:35 AM
Martin, Bjeorg
July 30th, 1991 - 7:00 PM
The soldiers walked quietly through the desolate streets. The setting sun cast angular shadows across the pavement. The harsh red lights reflected eerily over the Bjeorg soldiers' eyes, making them look as if they were glowing red. An air of death surrounded the group as they drew ever nearer to achieving their morbid goal. Martin was lost so this wasn't strategic. The soldiers were out for blood. They would see it spilled or die trying.
The Maximusian Government would never see it coming. 80 soldiers were, in some capacity, making their way to the Maximuisans' right flank. The men would take up guerrilla tactics and use buildings and cars for cover. The Maximusians would have a tough time fighting on two fronts.
Andrew Kelsey was in agony. He was hobbling along two blocks ahead of the main group. His wounded leg felt as if it was going to fall off with each painful step. Yet, he was undeterred from his purpose. Kelsey was now only one block away from his adversaries and he could hear the gunshots. As best as he could tell, things were not going well for the Bjeorg forces. They were desperately holding out for the flank maneuver. If that attempt failed, it would be the end of Martin. Once a foothold in Martin was established, the end for Bjeorg would soon follow. So much rested on Private Kelsey.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Private Kelsey finally arrived at the final checkpoint. All he had to do was report to the Maximusians that the coast was clear (which was most certainly a lie). He now had the opportunity to take a seat. Never had taking the weight off of his leg felt so good. He swallowed another hydrocodone pill before setting the radio down on the sidewalk and contacting the Maximusians.
"This is Alpha-Charlie-Whiskey, reporting that the final checkpoint is clear of all insurgents. No signs of activity anywhere in this sector. Reporting back to command now."
Kelsey waited in silence for the response before disconnecting the microphone from the radio. He laughed as he pulled the antenna out as well. All he had to do was wait to be picked up. He could just sit back, relax, and enjoy the hydrocodone's effect. His work was finished.
15 minutes later
The shots rang out all at once, falling upon the Maximusian soldiers like rain. They were stunned by this turn of events for a moment but quickly returned fire. Glass flew in all directions, vehicles were overturned by grenades, men would suddenly throw their arms up before falling onto their backs, revealing an emaciated chest. To soldiers from both sides this was hell. Gunfire was coming from all directions, men would suddenly make a break for their comrades position but would be mowed down in their tracks.
Kelsey watched this all from the relative safety of a pickup truck's bed. There was so much fire and smoke that he could hardly tell what was going on but he was certain that no side was winning. This would be recorded as a loss for both sides, he was sure of it.
In reality though, this would certainly be a Bjeorg victory in the long run. Wars like this weren't won by killing everyone on the other side. They were won by staying in them longer than the opponent. Bjeorg might loose Martin, as a mater of fact, Bjeorg was certain to loose Martin. If not today, then tomorrow, but eventually the city would fall. The trick was making the cost per city high enough for the Maximusians that they would deem the cause not worth it and give in.
Kelsey watched a rocket detonate only a few hundred meters from his perch had a sudden realization. "This skirmish is my doing. The blood is on my hands." he said aloud. Indeed, from a certain point if view, many lives would have been saved if he had not carried out his little ruse. Then again, if this battle brought a faster conclusion to the war, maybe Kelsey's actions would save more lives then it took.
The smoke suddenly began to clear. As Kelsey had suspected, the Bjeorgites were in rapid retreat. You'll get 'em in the long run. He thought to himself. At that, Kelsey swallowed two ibuprofen tablets he had been given when he met up with the soldiers, tossed a white t-shirt over the tailgate to signify capitulation should he be found by the Maximuisians, and drifted off into a deep sleep.
July 30th, 1991 - 7:00 PM
The soldiers walked quietly through the desolate streets. The setting sun cast angular shadows across the pavement. The harsh red lights reflected eerily over the Bjeorg soldiers' eyes, making them look as if they were glowing red. An air of death surrounded the group as they drew ever nearer to achieving their morbid goal. Martin was lost so this wasn't strategic. The soldiers were out for blood. They would see it spilled or die trying.
The Maximusian Government would never see it coming. 80 soldiers were, in some capacity, making their way to the Maximuisans' right flank. The men would take up guerrilla tactics and use buildings and cars for cover. The Maximusians would have a tough time fighting on two fronts.
Andrew Kelsey was in agony. He was hobbling along two blocks ahead of the main group. His wounded leg felt as if it was going to fall off with each painful step. Yet, he was undeterred from his purpose. Kelsey was now only one block away from his adversaries and he could hear the gunshots. As best as he could tell, things were not going well for the Bjeorg forces. They were desperately holding out for the flank maneuver. If that attempt failed, it would be the end of Martin. Once a foothold in Martin was established, the end for Bjeorg would soon follow. So much rested on Private Kelsey.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Private Kelsey finally arrived at the final checkpoint. All he had to do was report to the Maximusians that the coast was clear (which was most certainly a lie). He now had the opportunity to take a seat. Never had taking the weight off of his leg felt so good. He swallowed another hydrocodone pill before setting the radio down on the sidewalk and contacting the Maximusians.
"This is Alpha-Charlie-Whiskey, reporting that the final checkpoint is clear of all insurgents. No signs of activity anywhere in this sector. Reporting back to command now."
Kelsey waited in silence for the response before disconnecting the microphone from the radio. He laughed as he pulled the antenna out as well. All he had to do was wait to be picked up. He could just sit back, relax, and enjoy the hydrocodone's effect. His work was finished.
15 minutes later
The shots rang out all at once, falling upon the Maximusian soldiers like rain. They were stunned by this turn of events for a moment but quickly returned fire. Glass flew in all directions, vehicles were overturned by grenades, men would suddenly throw their arms up before falling onto their backs, revealing an emaciated chest. To soldiers from both sides this was hell. Gunfire was coming from all directions, men would suddenly make a break for their comrades position but would be mowed down in their tracks.
Kelsey watched this all from the relative safety of a pickup truck's bed. There was so much fire and smoke that he could hardly tell what was going on but he was certain that no side was winning. This would be recorded as a loss for both sides, he was sure of it.
In reality though, this would certainly be a Bjeorg victory in the long run. Wars like this weren't won by killing everyone on the other side. They were won by staying in them longer than the opponent. Bjeorg might loose Martin, as a mater of fact, Bjeorg was certain to loose Martin. If not today, then tomorrow, but eventually the city would fall. The trick was making the cost per city high enough for the Maximusians that they would deem the cause not worth it and give in.
Kelsey watched a rocket detonate only a few hundred meters from his perch had a sudden realization. "This skirmish is my doing. The blood is on my hands." he said aloud. Indeed, from a certain point if view, many lives would have been saved if he had not carried out his little ruse. Then again, if this battle brought a faster conclusion to the war, maybe Kelsey's actions would save more lives then it took.
The smoke suddenly began to clear. As Kelsey had suspected, the Bjeorgites were in rapid retreat. You'll get 'em in the long run. He thought to himself. At that, Kelsey swallowed two ibuprofen tablets he had been given when he met up with the soldiers, tossed a white t-shirt over the tailgate to signify capitulation should he be found by the Maximuisians, and drifted off into a deep sleep.