by Conor Bender
The troop started to pick up the pace and started to cover ground quicker. As they moved through the woods, Callum noticed that the drone of the aircraft overhead had abated. Now, aside from the muted rumble of the artillery, it was dead quiet. The crunch of pine needles and the rustle of equipment on the raiders’ backs was a cacophony. Callum hadn’t seen any birds or other wildlife that usually inhabited the woods and it made him uneasy. He exchanged glances with Magar.
“I don’t like this, Sergeant.”
Callum nodded and motioned for the rest of the team to slow down. Sensing danger, his arm signal was mimicked by commandos up and down the line as the entire troop slowed. They struggled to find cover wherever they stood, and did their best to conceal themselves.
Callum looked around. Sunlight danced among the trees as the shady branches shifted with the wind. “Reynolds, take Devon. I want—”
“Contact front!”
Callum ducked down just as an MG42 machine gun started to bark. Bullets whizzed around them, cracking off the trees and snapping branches. Callum stuck his head up and looked to see where the gunfire was coming from. The muzzle flash of the machine gun was easily visible in the early morning light. A German machine gun team had holed up on the second floor of a cottage at the edge of the forest near the intersection of the second road.
Callum looked over to where Captain Parker was and spotted Tarbor next to him, arranging the machine gun section. The machine gunners in Tarbor’s team were already laying down a heavy barrage of fire from their Brens.
Seeing that Tarbor had already started to trade fire, Callum got into a low crouch and sprinted a short distance, ducking behind a heavy oak tree that had fallen over. “Devon! Reynolds! Lay down fire! Magar, you’re with me. We’re going to take out that gun!”
Magar jumped up, sprinted past Callum, and dropped down below a shallow dip in the earth. He started to return fire with the machine gun nest.
Callum looked over toward the center of the line and spotted Captain Parker moving with Carter’s and Ferguson’s teams. He heaved himself up and sprinted a short distance past Magar and ducked behind a tree. He repeated the process a few more times, leapfrogging between cover as they got closer and closer to the house. The whole time the German machine gun nest continued to fire, traversing a withering hail of rounds across the entirety of Baker Troop’s line of attack. As Callum sprinted from a tree and threw himself behind a small boulder, he watched Carter’s and Ferguson’s advance stall.
The German machine gunner was smart and knew what he was doing. Focusing his fire on Baker Troop’s center he had all but halted their advance. If Callum’s team couldn’t flank and destroy the nest quickly, there was a good chance the entire troop could be outflanked by German forces in the area.
“Moving!” Magar called as he stood up and sprinted past Callum and dove behind a decrepit fence that sat along the side of the house.
Callum cast one more sidelong glance at the rest of Baker Troop. Barely anyone was returning fire. Oh Christ. He pulled a grenade from his web belt and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Moving!” He quickly bounced off the tree he was behind and sprinted the last fifteen feet to the cottage and got tight against the wall. In a single fluid motion, he quickly pulled the pin and tossed the grenade up into the window where the German machine gun team was. The muted explosion of the grenade was followed by the sharp scream of pain as shrapnel, both metal and wood, shredded both Germans.
“Guns down!” Callum shouted, after waiting a minute to see if the machine gun fire would resume. He looked at Magar. “On me!”
Magar sprinted up next to him, his Sten at the ready. He kept the gun up with one hand while he drew his vicious kukri with the other. The pair inched toward the door slowly, straining to hear any signs of life in the house.
“Ready?”
Magar nodded his head.
“Do it.”
Magar pushed off the wall and, with a running start, barreled into the door sending it crashing open. Callum quickly moved through the doorway behind him. They quickly swept the first floor and moved upstairs. They found the machine gun nest in the bedroom. The two Germans manning the gun were dead.
Magar stuck both corpses with his kukri for good measure. “Last thing we want is these bloody Bosche waking up.”
Callum nodded. “Come on, let’s get back to it.” As the two made their way back outside the house, Parker ran up next to them.
“All clear?”
Callum nodded.
“We need to get moving. No doubt the battery heard that.”
“There wasn’t a field phone or radio with that machine gun nest. It won’t be long before they send a squad down here to investigate and check in.”
Parker nodded and peeked around the corner of the cottage. The intersection was less than fifty feet away. A small berm ran the length of the road acting as a natural barricade surrounding the farm where the battery was located. He could distinctly make out the tops of the battery’s guns above the berm as they fired.
Smoke puffed from the barrels of the guns. With each shot, the barrel recoiled downward from the force of the blast and bounced back up to firing position like an angry piston. Parker watched as German soldiers scrambled into firing positions, alert to Baker’s location after their engagement with the machine gun in the cottage.
“They know we’re here.”
Callum peered around the corner of the house. He could see a handful of Germans across the road by the battery diving into foxholes, but none of them were firing. “Why aren’t they firing on us?”
“I don’t know.” Parker looked to his left and right; his entire team had moved up through the forest to the edge of village and was well hidden by either the houses or the foliage.
“I don’t think they know where we are,” Adams said in disbelief.
“We need to make a move before they get wise.”
“Whiskey 1, this is Baker 6. We are in position,” Parker said as he made hand gestures, arranging his forces as best he could. He motioned for Carter to move his mortar team between two houses and motioned for Tarbor’s team to move up to the intersection. First Sergeant Adams motioned to Ferguson and Murray to move with him around the left flank.
“Roger, Baker 6. When ready, proceed with seizure of objective one.”
“Roger, Whiskey 1.” Parker darted toward the intersection, with Callum following after him. He looked down the road and spotted First Sergeant Adams with Ferguson and Murray covering their left flank and Carter between the two houses with his mortar team at the ready. They each gave him the thumbs up.
Satisfied, Parker got back on the radio. “Fox 6, this is Baker 6.”
Carver’s voice clicked metallically over the radio. “Go ahead, Baker 6.”
“Baker is ready to assault. What is the status of Fox?”
“Fox will be ready in one, I repeat, one minute.”
“Roger. We will attack at that time.” Parker checked his watch. He raised his index finger and shook it, making sure everyone understood. Adams, Callum, and the rest nodded their understanding. Seconds ticked by slowly as they waited.
Callum swore it was the longest minute of his life. He reached for his bandolier and made sure he had a magazine ready for when the one in his Sten ran out. He looked over at Parker. “Having fun yet, sir?”
Parker shot him a dirty look. “Fuck off, Callum.”
Magar and the rest of Callum’s team snorted in laughter.
“Alright, lads, lock it up. Let’s get back to it.”
“Twenty seconds.” Parker tensed and planted a hand firmly on the berm, preparing himself to launch over it first.
Callum watched him and frowned. “Sir, you don’t need to go over the top first. This isn’t the Great War.”
Parker opened his mouth to respond but the sound of a machine gun erupted to his right. Parker’s head snapped in the direction of the sound and he quickly realized that Fox Troop had opened fire. Godda
mmit, they’re early. Parker looked over and saw Carver’s troop charge across the empty field along the Germans’ flank.
Germans screamed as Carver’s troop hit them. They had been expecting an attack from Parker’s position and had been caught off guard. Parker quickly stuck his head up over the berm and spotted the Germans picking up their guns and trying to direct them toward Carver. Now was their chance.
“Let’s go!”
Sergeant Callum gave a whoop and hurdled over the berm, his team following quickly after him. Parker clambered over the berm a second after him and started to run. He sprinted twenty-five feet before a single German noticed him. Parker could see the look of shock on a German’s face fifty feet away, still not entirely sure who Parker or his commandos were. Callum, a few steps in front of Parker stopped in his tracks and took a well-aimed shot at the gawking German. The round hit the German’s helmet and blood poured down his head like a can of tomato soup. The impact of the round propelled the German’s body backward into one of his comrades who was setting up the machine gun.
The tall, lanky German took one look at his fallen friend and gave a quick shout. Parker could see the shocked look on his face and before Parker could shoot him he ducked below a sandbag. Shouts started to sound across the German line as they started to react to Parker’s assault. A handful of machine guns started to reposition to their original locations, while half of them continued to try and repel Carver’s assault on their flank.
Parker aimed his Thompson submachine gun and gently pulled the trigger, firing off multiple bursts at the machine gun nest. As he emptied his magazine, one of Tarbor’s men chucked a grenade at the nest.
“Get down, sir!”
Parker dove behind a divot in the earth and quickly reloaded as the grenade went off. He charged his Thompson and stood back up to find the machine gun nest a smoking mess of carnage.
“Keep moving! Keep laying down suppressing fire!”
Callum moved past Parker and continued toward the battery, encouraging his men as he went. Magar hurdled a barbed wire barricade and rolled behind a dirt mound and started to fire his Sten at the battery. Meanwhile, Devon and Reynolds moved past and jumped into a shallow trench that intersected the battery.
“Sergeant! Magar! Get in the trench!”
Callum and Magar quickly leapfrogged through cover and entered the trench system with Devon and Reynolds. The floor of the trench was waterlogged and muddy.
“Shit!” Magar groaned as his boots sunk below the ankle into the mud.
“Keep moving!”
Callum poked his head up over the trench for a split second to survey their progress. He looked over and saw Carver’s troop moving up on his right flank. They were making quick work of any Germans in their path and were gaining ground. Callum spotted Parker with Tarbor’s team trading fire with one of the machine gun nests. The nest was only a few meters from where Callum’s team was and the Germans hadn’t seen them dive into the trench.
“Magar, prime a grenade!” Callum shouted as he pulled a grenade off his own web belt. He pointed in the general direction of the machine gun nest. “Four meters! Ready? One, two, three!” Both Magar and Callum tossed their grenades.
A split second later the grenades detonated and the machine gun fire faded. Callum stuck his head up over the trench and motioned to Parker and Tarbor that the gun was clear.
Parker nodded and started to move out of cover only to be beaten back as machine gun fire raked the ground in front of him kicking up clumps of dirt.
“How many damn machine guns do they bloody well have?”
“Don’t ask questions, just keep shooting!”
Callum and his team trudged through the trench and made their way further into the heart of the battery with little opposition. The Germans were so focused on their left flank and front, they had all but forgotten their right flank. The machine gun nest Callum and his team had just taken out must have been the only defense covering this side of the battery. They were now close to the first artillery piece.
“Alright, the first gun is right around this corner. Move fast. Magar, stay back. As soon as this gun is secured, I want it detonated immediately. Ready?”
Callum’s team wordlessly nodded.
“Alright, let’s go!”
Callum rounded the corner of the trench and found himself face-to-face with a German soldier. The look on the German’s face was one of shock and surprise, but being taken off guard didn’t slow the German down. Before Callum had a chance to react, the German shoved Callum back into the corner of the trench and fumbled with his MP-40 submachine gun.
Before the German had a chance to bring his gun up, Corporal Magar was on him. Punching, shoving, and gouging, Magar viciously assaulted the German, keeping him from using his gun. After two quick jabs to the face, Magar quickly drew his kukri knife and drove it into the German’s side.
The German let out a pained howl as the knife cut through bone and meat and drove deep into his abdomen. In a quick, fluid motion, Magar pulled the knife from the German’s side and, with one hand, pointed his Sten at his head and pulled the trigger.
It was all over in an instant. Magar shot Callum a concerned look, but was batted away as Callum struggled to his feet. “Just got the wind knocked out of me. Go!”
Without another word, Magar, Devon, and Reynolds moved on toward the gun, with Callum bringing up the rear.
They found two more Germans manning the gun and quickly dispatched them. In a matter of seconds, Magar had the artillery piece rigged to blow.
“Fire in the hole!”
With a muted thud, the explosives detonated and left the artillery piece a deformed version of what it once was. Callum looked around and surveyed the battlefield. Most of the gunfire had subsided.
“Clear?”
“Clear!”
“Clear here!”
Callum spotted Parker moving freely through the field as he and Tarbor’s team moved up toward the gun. As Parker surveyed the carnage he couldn’t help but let a grin crack through his lips. They had secured their objective.
“Nice work, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir. You didn’t do half bad yourself.”
Parker nodded and looked up and down the line of artillery pieces. Carver’s troop had secured most of the guns, and Parker’s troop was moving in to seize the other ones. They had successfully seized their objective without issue. “Demo team up! Team leaders, I want a head count and ammo count.”
“I need a medic!” Adams called.
The grin faded from Parker’s lips; that was the one demand no commander wanted to hear. Parker looked over to where Adams was and then back at the guns.
“Go, sir, I’ll supervise this,” Callum said, reading his mind.
Parker nodded and ran over to Adams. Corporal Ives, one of their two medics, was already on the scene.
Adams looked at Parker as he walked over. “It’s Murray, sir.”
Parker looked down. Murray’s face was a pale white, an angry red hole gushed blood from his abdomen. Lying next to him was a German soldier writhing in agony from a narrow hole in his side; it wasn’t a bullet wound. Parker looked around and saw that Adams’s bayonet was red and dripping with blood.
“We need to get Carson over here.” Parker turned to call the other medic over.
“Sir, hold fast on that.”
Parker stopped and turned back to face Adams and shot him a questioning look.
“That bastard shot Murray, and after he went down, came over and starting kicking him in the face and body. Wasn’t enough to bring Murray within an inch of his life. As far as I’m concerned, he’s waived his right to receiving medical aid from us.”
Parker looked back down at Murray and noticed for the first time that his face was covered in blood. It had been difficult to see earlier since everyone’s faces had been painted in black. Parker locked eyes with Murray and saw the anger and fury in his eyes; if able to, he would have already strangled t
he German.
“As much as I agree with that sentiment, it’s our moral duty to give him aid.” Parker turned back toward the artillery pieces to call over the other medic.
Crack!
Parker jumped at the sound of the gunshot and spun around. The back of the German’s head was gone and blood oozed from a bullet hole in his forehead. Parker looked at Murray who had his arm outstretched with his 1911 Colt .45 pistol gripped firmly in his hand, still aimed at the German.
“He was reaching for his knife,” Murray argued before Parker could say a thing. Parker gave him a hard look but stayed silent.
“Sir, Captain Carver is heading this way,” First Sergeant Adams said quickly, attempting to alleviate the tension from the situation.
Carver hopped over a piece of barbed wire and walked up next to him. “Nice to see you in one piece, Malcom.”
“Corran, appreciate the help. Was wondering when you were going to join the fight.” Parker scowled, his eyes still on Murray as Ives treated his chest wound.
“Well, that’s why I thought you Yanks joined the war.” He looked down at Murray and watched as Ives plunged a shot of morphine into his thigh. “Will he be alright?”
“He can walk it off.”
“I daresay, that other chap won’t be doing so,” Carver said, nodding to the German. “Jerry put up quite a fight. Did you lose anyone?”
Adams nodded. “Three dead and seven wounded.”
Carver made a face. “Better than us. I had hoped the confusion from both of us attacking would provide us with some security. But one of their machine guns was aimed directly at our direction of assault from the beginning. They chewed my first team to pieces and nearly wiped out my second. I’ve got nine dead and six wounded.”
Parker nodded, but said nothing, if it hadn’t been for Carver’s team opening fire first, his team would have had just as many casualties. He looked around and spotted a shallow trench he had nearly fallen into during the assault. “We should colocate our wounded for treatment; right there would do nicely.”
