Battle Earth 1 be-1
Page 20
“Keep firing!” shouted Taylor.
He rushed to the frontal positions to see that fresh enemy troops were already marching over the dusty rubble that covered their comrades. As the dust settled over the ruins he could make out the countless tanks and Mechs approaching in the distance. He gasped at the sight of it before quickly lifting the launcher to his shoulder and firing a full load into the advancing troops. Kwori dashed up the stairs to reach the Major who turned to reload his weapon.
“Sir! We’ve got twenty dead on the next floor down, another fifteen below that, we’re getting fucking killed here!”
“That’s our job soldier!”
“We have to retreat, Sir!”
Taylor released his grip on the weapon and slapped the man across the face.
“Get yourself together, Private, and man the fuck up!”
The marine looked sheepish. They were all exhausted and astonished at the chaos and bloodshed all around them, but there was no choice but to fight on.
“Is Captain Friday still alive?” shouted Taylor.
“Yes, Sir!”
“Get back to him, you take up your weapon and you fight marine! No retreat!”
The Major loaded the last of a full load into his launcher and turned back to the fight to see artillery shells smashing the enemy positions, but as many flying overhead in their direction. Buildings either side of the river were being reduced to rubble. The bunker they defended was only still standing due to its excessively robust construction.
Enemy tanks drew into view that appeared much like Jones had seen previously on the beaches south of Brest, though they had vastly larger turrets and guns. They continued firing as they saw the gun of the nearest tank elevate to their height and fire. The wall just ten metres from Jones’ position smashed inwards, punching a hole as tall as a man. The three soldiers there were thrown across the floor in a mangled mess. Taylor looked at the fearsome vehicles approaching.
“Take out those tanks!” he shouted.
The Aardvark launchers began to fire but it wasn’t soon enough. A second shell smashed into the floor below, rocking the bunker and almost taking Mitch off his feet.
“Everything you’ve got on those tanks right now!” he barked.
He ran to the edge and opened fire with his launcher, firing repeatedly at the nearest tank. Over twenty-five grenades struck it and eleven Aardvark rockets before the turret was pierced and knocked out of its mountings, rendering it useless. Before they could target the next tank another two massive energy pulses smashed into their building. One of the shots smashed out a large section of their defensive wall and went through the roof, causing rubble to collapse and kill one soldier.
The troops immediately ran to the firing lines and continued to rain down fire on the remaining two tanks. Mech fire piled through the gaping holes in their structure but all fire was concentrated on the vehicles below. Seconds later the second tank erupted into flames. They turned their attentions to the third but it fired at their top floor. The blast expanded a previous hole and sent Taylor and Douglas sprawling across the floor.
“Take it out!” shouted Jones.
Taylor heard the immense explosion from the floor where he had been thrown. He got back up to see that Major Douglas’ armour was smouldering from a broad chest wound. He shook his head in despair at the death all around him. He got up on one knee and looked around to see that there were more than twenty dead on his floor alone. Looking up to the defences he could see that Jones still fought on alongside a mixture of troops from all three units.
He staggered to his feet and up to the ammunition crates. Flicking open the launcher he loaded it once more and packed his webbing with as many spare rounds as he could get. Despite still carrying the rifle on his back, he knew what little it could do against this enemy. A light caught his attention from the corner of his eye as the battle raged on, it was the hard line comms. Stumbling over to it as he sealed the ammunition pockets on his vest, he picked up the handset.
“Bombing raid incoming on your position, fall back fifty metres from the river, over.”
“Who is this?”
“Orders direct from Brigadier Dupont. Inform Colonel Chandra to fall back immediately, you have three minutes to haul arse, over.”
Taylor threw down the handset and snapped his head around to look at the survivors who continued to fight at the walls.
“Fall back! Fall back! Now!”
The men initially looked at him with both shock and disbelief. It was the command they had hoped for from the beginning but never expected to receive. They had all prepared themselves to fight and die where they stood.
Taylor and Jones rushed to Chandra who was propped up at the end of one of the firing positions.
“What’s going on, Major?” she shouted.
“Dupont has an airstrike incoming, we’ve got three minutes to get the hell out of this death trap!”
The two men got either side of the Colonel and wrapped her arms around their shoulders, taking the weight off her crippled leg.
“Everyone out now!” shouted Taylor.
There were few wounded in the bunker, most being killed outright by the onslaught of the enemy’s heavy weapons. Friendly artillery continued to fly overhead and pound the enemy positions. They stormed down the stairwells of the bunker. Only half the soldiers who had entered the battered building had made it out alive. They rushed across the wide-open street towards the next line of buildings fifty metres back from the riverside.
Taylor shouted to the infantry in the trenches as they passed by. Some were already leaping out and following the troops fleeing back, others stayed and fought on. The hole-ridden bunker at their backs did them one last service, giving them cover as they fell back. They could already make out friendly troops that had taken up positions in the tall commercial buildings they were approaching.
Chandra squirmed in pain as the two officers hauled her. They were as surprised as she that she’d survived the explosion, but it was little relief in the ongoing battle. The occupying troops filled every window in sight with their weapons at the ready. One building had completely collapsed between two of the friendly positions, its rubble provided ample cover.
“There!” shouted Taylor.
“Damn right, I’d rather die fighting than be crushed when the next building comes down!” Jones added.
The survivors from the bunker swarmed into the ruins and immediately took up position looking back towards the bridge where they’d run from. Many of the troops in the trenches continued to fire at the advancing enemy with everything they had. The air was suddenly filled with the reverberating drone of a huge wing of heavy bombers.
Looking overhead, Taylor watched as a wall of fighters stormed across the sky with all guns blazing. Rocket trails filled the air as missiles soared towards the enemy aircraft. The fighters were cutting a path through at a great cost to make way for the bombers. Lights pulsed in the sky as ground weapons fired up against the mass of aircraft.
Their attention was quickly drawn ahead as an enemy tank had managed to gain a foothold on the bridge and brush aside the countless burning wrecks. It rolled on past the trenches as the troops had little left that could stop it.
“Tank!” shouted Jones.
The men in the buildings next to them had already opened up with their weapons but most of the gunfire and ARMAL devices were bouncing off its thick armour.
“Get the Aardvarks firing!” he shouted again.
Captain Friday ducked and weaved in between the rubble as the gunfire increased. The tank’s three guns were firing relentlessly into the friendly position and blowing holes out of the building.
“Sir! Aardvark ammo is almost out! Grenades are getting low too!”
“Just keep firing!”
Trails from the rocket launchers slammed into the tank as it continued to roll towards them. The main gun lowered in readiness to fire at their position just as a volley of rockets slammed into it causi
ng the vehicle to amble to a halt. Holes littered its armour and there were no signs of life. As they stared at the result of their work, they had failed to see what was happening overhead. Massive explosions erupted around the river instantly deafening them all.
The troops ducked down as stone and glass was projected hundreds of metres through the air and the ground shook. Taylor lifted his head just a little to look at the carnage up ahead. Bombs smashed the enemy positions in an almost continuous stream for as far and wide as his eye could see. The ear splitting onslaught was excruciating and many simply dropped their weapons and covered their ears.
For a solid five minutes the barrage continued and the wreckage of enemy vehicles and Mechs was scattered and blasted into thousands of pieces. Buildings collapsed all across the waterfront and beyond. The trench positions disappeared into a ball of smoke as the friendly positions there was utterly destroyed. The brave troops who had kept up the fight were all but a memory.
Some of the troops began to scream from the unrelenting assault all around them. Their mouths were wide and faces taut, bellowing with all their energy, though nobody could hear them. Finally the bombing came to an end. As Jones’ hearing began to recover he realised how unsettling the new silence was. Smoke and dust clouds still filled the air.
“They’ve done it!” shouted Silva.
The troops now blended in with the rubble they occupied, dust and grit sticking to every spec of their clothing and armour. Taylor stood up to look out at the scene. The bunker they recently occupied had lost its two upper floors but was still standing defiantly. Over the other side of the water they could see that the streets had been flattened. Stacked rubble had all but covered the remaining wrecked vehicles.
The centre of the river bridge had finally collapsed. The Major sighed in relief. For a moment he thought they had won the fight, but his face quickly turned to a grimace as the sound of tracks began to roll in the distance. The men stared in terror across the rubble but were unable to make out any movement due to the thick cloud of dust.
None of them could believe that the enemy could have survived the onslaught in any great number, and yet, tanks were approaching. They looked once more at the bridge and were thankful that it had finally fallen. Through the dust cloud a few Mechs appeared. They were covered in dirt and filth so that they blended into the ruins just as the humans did. Seconds later the first tank burst into view.
“What are they doing?” asked Ortiz.
He lifted his huge anti-materiel rifle and slammed it down on what was left of a pillar next to them. Lifting the stock to his shoulder he peered through the scope at the increasing number of enemy who were still six hundred metres away.
“What the fuck is that?”
“What is it?” Taylor shouted.
He yanked out the binoculars from his webbing lifting them to his eyes. The vehicle was taller and wider than anything they had seen but he couldn’t make out any weapons on it. The monstrous tracked vehicle continued to roll towards the bridge, other more familiar vehicles following and Mechs were pouring towards the river.
“It’s a bridging tank! Take cover and be ready!”
“Sir, we can’t hold back another assault with armour, we have barely a heavy weapon among us,” said Jones.
Taylor looked around in desperation. He prayed that the troops in the buildings alongside them still had rockets, though he knew it was too much to hope for. Huddling behind the massive piles of rubble and walls still standing, the survivors of the battalion had grim expressions. They knew that they were being asked to give up their lives to defend the city, but they still held on to the hope of victory even in the face of the dreaded alien armies.
Taylor knelt down beside Captain Jones. Friday was ten metres off to his side behind the remains of the front wall of the building. Chandra had perched herself against a section of fallen roof and held her rifle at the ready. The vehicle rolled right up to the surviving ledge of the bridge and came to an abrupt halt.
“Do not let them pass!” Taylor ordered.
The top unfolded and expanded outwards across to their side of the river. As it did so the body of the vehicle lowered as it spread out and locked into position forming a solid path over the river. The next enemy vehicle roared to life and began to trundle towards the newly formed bridge.
Then from behind their positions Taylor could hear a mechanical grinding noise that was becoming louder. As the enemy vehicle got onto the bridge it was hit by a huge shell that punctured its hull. It pulled to one side and collapsed into the river. Taylor turned to see a huge tank roll forwards from behind the building at their side, shortly followed by more.
Having never actually seen one, other than in pictures, the armoured behemoths were instantly recognisable as the T15 super heavy tanks. They rolled on without hesitation, firing as they moved. The first of the enemy vehicles erupted into clouds of smoke as Mechs were tossed aside by the immensely powerful guns.
“The Russians!” shouted Kwori.
The troops let out a hail of excitement and shouts as twelve of the huge vehicles rolled into position. One of the T15s was struck by an energy burst and rolled to a halt. The crew clambered out, the immense frontal armour saving their lives. A roar of battle cries rang out from the street where the tanks had come from and moments later troops poured out into the open. Hundreds of the Russian troops swarmed in to assist the armour.
Taylor and his men stood in their positions watching as the enemy were entirely blotted out of view by the surge of men and tanks. Cannons and machine guns fired in a brutal push towards the river. The 2 ^ nd Inter-Allied could only stand and marvel at the fearless courage of these men.
As they stood there, as surprised to see their allies as they were to still be alive, a vehicle rolled up. Commander Phillips leapt off as the battle continued to rage.
“Major Taylor! Glad to see you made it!”
Mitch quickly saluted the man as he approached. Phillips stood and stared at the battered and bloodied troops. He could barely distinguish between the three different outfits before him for the dirt and blood blended them together. He watched as Chandra bravely pulled herself up onto her one good leg to greet the Commander.
“Colonel, great job! I wasn’t sure if any of you would have made it.”
“Sir, are we needed back in the fight?” asked Jones.
“Negative, Captain. The Russian forces are handling the centre. German and British armoured Corps are sweeping in from the north and Turkish and Yugoslavian units have entered at the south.”
“My, God, then we’ve done it,” Taylor whispered.
“You’ve done it, Major, you and all the fine men and women who held this river. Paris remains free. We have not won the war, but we have drawn a line in the sand.”
“Where do we go from here, Sir?”
“For you, Captain, to a resting area east of the city. We are driving the enemy forces out but we can only continue so far. Paris has become the Bastion of Earth forces, it will be our base from henceforth. Vehicles are en route to carry the wounded. My thanks to you all, you have the respect and appreciation of the world. Major Taylor, please join me.”
Mitch shrugged off the dust from his uniform, but it had little effect. He stepped through the rubble and to the vehicle as Phillips climbed aboard. He looked back to the troops one last time, giving them a nod and casual salute. They continued to watch the friendly forces surge west over the enemy’s bridge to push the creatures out of the city.
Kelly sat at his desk just ten metres from Lewis. He tapped his fingers on his desk as he stared into space. He sat uneasily in his chair, still in full armour. They had been awaiting news of the great battle for France since it began. They knew that their survival was entirely dependent on the Earth troops’ ability to halt the enemy’s progress.
The room was utterly silent. They had gained a few small victories in ambushing Mechs with their new weapons, but were aware that they had made little progress. T
he Commander had his launcher in his lap, never letting it out of his sight. He said he kept it on him to show to all the colonists that he was fighting for their survival and freedom. It was only a half-truth. Kelly feared that the Mechs would breach their compound at any time.
“Sir, we’re receiving a message!” shouted Lewis.
Kelly sprang into action, swivelling in his chair and leaping to his feet. He stopped and stared at the comms officer in anticipation. He dreaded the news just as much as he yearned for it.
“They’ve done it, Sir, Paris has held! They’ve driven the Mechs from the city!”
The room erupted in excitement, but Kelly just lowered he head as he fought back tears. He wondered if the onslaught would ever end. He knew that until the invaders had been stopped in a pitched battle that there was no hope. The comms officer looked at him.
“We’ve done it, Sir, we’ve beaten them!”
“I know, there is hope, and that is all we can ask.”
Taylor stood at the window overlooking the recovery room where Parker was still connected to a host of machines. The Commander had arranged her transfer to a hospital north of Paris as the battle still raged. Phillips was aware that her survival and presence could do wonders for the unit, the Major in particular.
Passersby stared at his filthy clothes, his rifle was still slung over his shoulder. It was obvious that the officer had just endured a brutal fight. No one had the heart to tell him to clean himself up. Commander Phillips stood with him. He’d driven him there in his own vehicle.
“It is a delicate thing, Major, morale.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He didn’t take his eyes of Eli.
“In the coming days, weeks, months or even years, we will need every soldier on God’s Earth. You have done not just your country proud today, Major, but the entire world. I have arranged the best medical treatment for Sergeant Parker. The doctors here assure me that she will recover fully in time.”