“It looks cumbersome,” the ambassador said.
Hausnerr chuckled. “They designed the Tiger with armor protection and firepower at it’s core,” he said. “The Lowe is more of an all-rounder on a heavy frame.” He pointed to its squared off frame. “For example, the Tiger’s wrapped in super chobam armor, an extremely heavy and heat resistant composite, unfortunate it can only be applied in large flat slabs, it’s cousin uses a lighter composite with a thick coating of thermal dampener paint.”
“So far you’re not selling me on your big cat here,” she replied. “Besides, why would we invest in a heavy panzerter to begin with, we need a colony defense model at the moment.”
Hausnerr pointed at the Tiger. “This will kill any panzerter that opposes it, at long range, the Union heavily uses panzerters, including their own heavy panzerters. If not this, you’ll love something like this.”
“Well, let’s see it perform first,” she replied. The Tiger hefted a massive rifle, a 105-mm magnetic marksman rifle. From his notes, it was heavily based on some notes shared between the Lowe and Tiger teams pertains to the railgun originally fitted to the Lowe.
The colonel activated the gunnery table. As targets popped up up and down the range, the tiger engaged each of them. While the panzerters got the rifle, it peppered the infantry and smaller vehicles with a 30-mm Close-In Weapon System mounted on its head. Another cue from the Lowe team.
Looking back at the ambassador, he pointed to the Tiger. “It also makes an excellent commander’s unit,” he said. “And with the strives we’ve made in pilot safety, your commanders will be very well protected.”
She looked back at her entoruge. After sharing a few muttered conversations, she smiled back at him. “When you’ve cleared it for production, we’d like to order a limited run. From there we would appreciate help to develop our own heavy weapons.”
Hausnerr nodded. He’d mostly expected this. Vinland’s army and navy were highly professional forces, though that was out of necessity as both forces were much smaller than their contemporaries. Hell, their biggest capital ships were heavy cruisers and they lacked fleet carriers. There force would have to grow, and to do that, they needed material.
“I don’t see a reason why our people shouldn’t collaborate,” he said. “After all, we’re all fighting for our peace and freedom here.” She nodded and spoke a few more words to her cohorts in Vinnish. They nodded and looked back at him.
“We’d like to meet the pilot if possible,” one of them said. “And get their own feedback on the machine, so we can give our pilots a better idea of what to expect.” Hausnerr nodded.
“We can do that, if you don’t mind going out into the cold again,” he said. As the Tiger took a knee and dropped it’s ladder, maintenance crews ran out to take a look at it and ensure their fancy toy hadn’t been broken. While Hausnerr and the Vinnish delegation braved the snow and the wind once more, they caught sight of the maintenance teams rushing out of a separate bunker.
“I don’t envy them,” the Vinnish Ambassador said. “Having to come out in this and put their hands all over cold metal.” Hausnner looked at the freezing tech team. They didn’t look too miserable, and one looked like he had one eye. Huh, that’s good of Ostman Heavy Metals to be giving jobs to our war wounded.
The one-eyed tech noticed Hausnerr looking at him and smiled. I’ll have to shake his hand or thank him for serving later. As they approached the pilot, the young woman took her helmet off and smiled. Noticing Hausnerr approaching. She snapped to attention and saluted.
“Relax, Lieutenant,” he said. “Our Vinnish guests would like to speak to you.” She smiled again before shivering.
“Can we talk inside?” she asked. “Maybe after I get some soup?” They chuckled and Hausnerr began ushering them back to the range control building. Before leaving the mechanics, he looked around real quick for the one-eyed mechanic, but he was nowhere to be fine. Damn, oh well, I’ll find him later.
With that, he turned around and led his group back in from the cold, the one eyed man fading from his mind as he did. Fortunately for their young test pilot, one of the range control officers had prepared her a soup pouch in control bunker. As she ate, she took questions. The last one apparently hit a bit of a nerve.
“LT. Bartonova, if you’re such a skilled pilot, why are you testing machines rather than on the front?” a Vinnish General asked. The young woman stiffened her shoulders and grew stern.
“Here in Tharsis we have a policy,” she said. “If you’re the last of your siblings, we exempt you from combat,” she said. “It’s a provision to prevent entire family lines from being wiped out.” Hausnerr nodded, more to himself than anyone else. She has every right to feel any certain way. Her sister and brother died heroes, and her home is under enemy occupation. He remembered the one-eyed man and shook his head. This war just keeps on taking and taking.
Kennedy stiffened as he entered the temporary command center. At one point, it had been a broadcast center for the ice hockey arena they currently occupied. Now, however, maps lined the walls, readouts filled with monitors, and a media Union ran news coverage in the background.
His injuries weren’t too severe in and of themselves, but it had aggravated his injured leg when his panzerter fell. I’ve already talked to Chaney about my next panzerter, I shouldn’t be using a cumbersome Jupiter again.
Irving had also rejoined their group, as well as Fuller, Guard-Colonel Gomez, who commanded the 509th, and the new motor battalion commander. Along with Meyer, they gathered around a central table to discuss the state of their division.
“Based on the losses we took in the last battle,” Meyer said. “Only 40% of the division is combat ready, we all but lost our dropship battalion, lost most of our motor and panzerter battalions, and our mechanized battalion also took a beating.”
Fuller shook his head. “If nothing else, we’ll be able to replace our vehicles and weapons with better models before we return to the front.” Kennedy grimaced. Your decision to use inferior equipment directly led to our loss, among other designs. Hypocrite. “Are you alright, Comrade Kennedy?”
He nodded. “Yeah, this old partisan injury’s been aggravating me lately,” Kennedy replied. “And you’re right, unfortunately, they have plenty of examples of our gear to pick apart.” And whose fault is that?
“We may be getting new equipment,” Meyer said. “But there’s no guarantee we get experienced personnel to replace our losses.” She leveled a cold look at Fuller. “Every battle we fight like the last one will only increase the skill gap between our forces and theirs, to the point it won’t matter who’s at the controls, we’ve lost.”
Irving nodded. “This isn’t just an us problem,” she said. “It’s a doctrine issue. Deep battle theory is brutally efficient with our industrial base and population pool, but it also taxes our resources at a high level.” She also glanced at Fuller. “We can’t be frivolous with lives.” So I’m not the only one that sees him for what he is.
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me, comrade,” he said. “I brought us as close to victory as we could have gotten, if it weren’t for my actions. The Tharcians would have rolled out of Ironton and up the entire line!”
Undeterred, Irving rounded on him. “Your actions also doomed the entire operation,” she said. “That’s undeniable, I honestly don’t know why you’re here and not in a labor center.” Oh, wow, ouch.
His ratty face turned red as it convulsed. “Listen here Comrade Major, I am your senior, and I will not tolerate this level of blatant disrespect!”
Kennedy raised a hand and leaned forward. “Hold on, comrade, let’s give our Operations officer time to explain herself,” he said. Narrowing a glance at Irving, he added, “Respectfully.”
Gomez nodded in agreement. “I’d also like to hear what she has to say,” he said. “It is her duty to review combat data and create our lessons learned, let’s hear her out.”
After an approving look fr
om Meyer, Irving gathered herself and took a deep breath. She then pulled up the maps relating to the Battle of Ironton. “So at first the plan goes pretty smoothly, comrade Colonel Kennedy’s forces slog through a hell of a fight, but manage to force open a lane for the 88th Division.” She glared up at Fuller. “It’s at this point, the burden of winning falls on the 88th, and not long after, the battle is lost for us.”
Before Fuller could protest, Meyer silenced him. “Continue Comrade Major,” she said. Irving nodded and pulled up more detailed maps.
“So when we look at the Tharcian disposition, it becomes clear that they wanted us to attack into the township,” she said. “Their flanking forces were further forward and offset from the town. This company here merely set a screen inside city limits while the rest waited deeper inside.”
“They looked vulnerable,” Fuller said. “All I needed to do was kick in the door and the whole rotten thing would collapse.”
“What you did was kick every single brick of the house in the hope it would collapse,” Irving replied. “And when they chewed through fifty percent of your forces, did you withdraw? Consider a long flanking attack to get around them? Doing something, anything to lure them out of the damn urban area?”
“No,” Meyer said. “He called for reinforcements, first from the 616th, a force we were reserving for the airport, then from the 75th, who was guarding their backs and only consented because the acting commander couldn’t overrule him in the field.” He fell under her stern gaze again. “You not only cost us one of the Red Guards, but most of our experienced pilots from before the war.”
At this point, the man was sweating. His eyes darted around the room as if an excuse or escape from the situation would suddenly materialize. “I honestly didn’t think we could lose,” he replied. “All those big wigs, they all talk about whatever it takes to win, well that means we’re going to take some losses, you tow of all people should know, right?”
Before Meyer could speak, Kennedy raised a hand. “Look comrade, maybe you’re just not cut out to be a combat commander, look, I know some people,” he said. “Maybe we can work something out.”
He relaxed. “Oh, thank you comrade Kennedy, how merciful,” Fuller replied. “You’re such a good Unionist looking out for your fellow worker, I thought I was looking at the end of my life.”
Kennedy shrugged. “Well it’s definitely the end of your career, you’re not going to see another promotion with this on your file.” He reached into his coat pocket. “Here, join me outside for a cigarette, I need some fresh air, anyway.”
As Fuller followed him downstairs around to the back of the building, his hand bumped into Khan’s service pistol while searching for his lighter. When they reached the alley behind the arena, Kennedy stopped and lit up in the snow-filled, damp alley.
Dangling his cigarette in his left as he smoked, Kennedy glanced at the other man. “You know, for what it’s worth, I think you’re right about the whatever it takes to win line,” he said.
“You really think so?” Fuller asked. Kennedy nodded.
“I mean, if we say we’re going to win by any means necessary, wouldn’t we be hypocrites if we did anything less?” he asked. The other Colonel nodded as he lit up. Kennedy made small talk with him, bu evaded questions on what he thought the other man could do. When the Fuller finished his cigarette, Kennedy looked back at him. “Do you have any regrets about your service?”
Fuller shook his head. “No, none.” Kennedy nodded.
“I didn’t particularly want to do this,” he said and drew the pistol. When Fuller found himself staring down the barrel of the pistol, he didn’t attack Kennedy. He didn’t fight for his life. Scream. Beg. Cry. He just surrendered. Kennedy grit his teeth.
You’re just going to quit? How do you expect to fight for your people when you can’t even fight for you? This man is so damn pathetic. I really don’t want to do this, but he’s making it hard for me not to. A single gunshot rang out in the alley. Kennedy snuffed out the butt of his own cigarette and stowed the pistol.
As Reiter looked over the East bound Autobahn, cars sat bumper to bumper blaring their horns. Many of them had their belongings strapped to the roof or filling the rear of vans and SUVs. By comparison, only a few cars trickled into Vaterburg. Probably people with important jobs or things of that nature.
Standing on the shoulder of The Lowe, he sighed and sat down. Why does it feel like even when we win, we’re still losing? He fought to tell himself that this was different. He wasn’t retreating, rather his unit had been pulled off the line to rebuild. Hell, I came here in a Mercedes, that’s new.
“Hey sir, I figured you’d be out here,” called Wesser. Reiter nodded and climbed down to her level.
“I’m not going to lie, I’m bummed about a few of these,” Reiter said as they walked into their temporary offices. “Not because I hate seeing our guys succeed, but because we’re losing good people.” He sat down at his desk, a stack of papers at least an inch thick drawing his attention.
Fortunately, Comidus had already highlighted the sections he needed to sign. Unfortunately for him, one of these documents was Comidus’s transfer to Harbinger Company. Well, they lost their commander in that last battle, at least they’re getting a good one.
“Looks like we’re getting more drop troopers and dropship crews first,” he said. “I’m glad we’re getting them, but it’s a factor I’ve never had to manage before.” Wesser nodded as she was busy working on her own paperwork.
“So, I was wondering, who’s going to be your new XO?” she asked. Reiter stopped and thought for a moment. Though he knew Wesser slightly longer than Webb, the drop trooper was her senior and should get the position based on that. Then again, he’d be getting a new slew of officers as well.
“I think whoever I pick now will only be the acting XO,” he finally replied. “I need to see who we’re getting from division before I make a final decision, but I think you’ll be staying with Black Team, besides you and Mo are a great leadership team.”
“So you’re going with Webb?” Wesser asked.
“For now,” Reiter said. “Don’t get it twisted, your time will come, and I’ll hate every second of it because I hate losing good people.” Discreetly, he’d put her in for a high award along with Mo. He had no idea if it got docked at all, but he thought her efforts on the ground after she’d been shot down saved numerous life.
“Speaking of losing good people,” Wesser said, and Reiter paused.
“Kozma’s family’s been informed of his passing,” he said. “I hate it a little more every time I have to sign one.” After finishing his paperwork, he scanned everything to his computer and emailed it to the personnel shop at Regiment. Stretching, he looked over at Wesser. “The ceremony is at noon, right?”
She nodded. “We might have enough time to get coffee beforehand.”
Reiter checked his watch. “Yeah we do, let’s go.” After donning their winter coats, the pair left their offices at Fort Holzhausen and took a government car off base towards a local coffee shop. “It’s so surreal,” Reiter said as they headed into town. “Like Grunbeck, life just happens like there isn’t a war thirty miles from here.” He shook his head. “Just weird.”
“They’re in their own little world,” Wesser said as they pulled into the coffee bar. Grunbeck was probably much less business as usual now. The amount of refugees they’d seen fleeing through Vaterland reminded them of the fact, but still some people were staying put.
After a quick jaunt inside, they returned to the car. A caramel latte for Wesser, a peppermint mocha for Reiter. “I didn’t take you for a peppermint guy,” Wesser said.
Reiter shrugged as he started the car. “It’s seasonal, and Christmas has the best seasonal drinks,” he said. While they debated the merits of various seasonal beverages, they pulled up to the gate, flashed their IDs, and drove onto post.
With time to spare, they parked the car and walked on to the drill pad. The rest
of Fox company milled about. Their pilots formed a single platoon that the infantrymen, mortars, drop troopers, and even scouts dwarfed. Shortly after they arrived, Col Hawke and Sr Master Sergeant Friermann also arrived shaking a few hands and smiling until 1st Sergeant called the company to attention.
After receiving the company from the 1st Sergeant, Reiter waited while platoon leaders and platoon sergeants switched spots. Col Hawke approached with Friermann. Reiter saluted them and the pair stood next to him in a line. 1st Sergeant read off the orders.
“The following soldiers post: Corporal Merlin, Corporal Smith, Corporal Dudas, Corporal Dohnal, and Corporal Panchenko.” As the named soldiers left formation and formed a line in front of Reiter and the others, they walked around in front of them.
He stripped off the two silver stars representing Corporal and replaced them with the three that represented sergeant. “Attention to orders,” 1st Sergeant said. “The following soldiers have displayed incredible skill, competence and bravery on the battlefield. In this the Field Marshall has placed special trust in the faith and talent of the following soldiers, and thus they are promoted to the rank of Sergeant.”
Reiter smiled, albeit slightly sadly. Merlin was going to Early company, and some infantrymen were going to Harbinger. “The following soldiers post: Sergeant Lionel Musat, Sergeant Javi Mondragon. Sergeant Amy Steele.” The three of them came to the front, same as the others. This time, however, Reiter replaced the sergeant rank with the three silver stars in a silver border of Panzerter-Sergeant for Mo and Steele, and a black border representing Rifles-Sergeant for Stovepipe.
Hawke and Friermann shook their hands after Reiter passed them. Then they called up Comidus. Instead of Reiter, Hawke stepped forward and took off the old rank. Three bronze stars arranged in a triangle replied the two that formed a diagonal line. It’s official, he’s Captain Comidus now. He earned it. Reiter shook his hand and smiled.
He smiled even more when Webb, Wesser, Smith, and the rest of their ragtag group from Ironton were called up. When Hawke presented them each with the Homeland cross, one of the highest awards for valor, he was practically beaming at their shocked reactions. I can’t articulate it, but I feel like things are looking up.
Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle Page 29
