‘Driver, you head down river’ he said, draining the water out of his goggles, and putting them back on. ‘Plant the charges on the left hand side of the bridge, as high as you can.’
I moved away, letting the current take me, as I headed into the middle of the river, with just my eyes and the top of my head breaking the surface. As I slowly drifted, I watched Little D and Keane take out their final guard, who was stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the bridge, they hid his body and Little D slunk into the river by the steps while Keane back tracked towards Sergeant Welsh’s position. I could hear voices on the bridge, laughter and conversation, I counted seven men, at least on the side I could see. I grabbed the wet stonework, dragging my hand across the tiles until I stopped, with some help from Little D. The water was rushing past, spraying up against us, the sound echoing through the tunnel. The bridge was around twenty yards wide, carrying two lanes, with a slight hump. The temperature had dropped, as the winds rushed through, made all the worse as we climbed out of the water, exposing ourselves to the cold. I removed my rucksack and took the C4 out, still in a rectangular block, and moulded the shape in my hands, as I tried to find a ledge to climb up. My foot kept slipping, the stonework too wet, with moss and grime covering everything. I didn’t want to drop the explosives, so I pressed it into the brickwork at the highest point I could safely reach, pushing it into the cracks with my fingers. I then settled back down into the deeper part of the river, as Little D finished his side. It felt warmer fully submerged, still cold, but not as biting as when the wind can get at you. We made sure the charges were safe, before setting off back towards the others. I peered up the side of the bridge for any guards, with my back against the current, in water shallow enough to walk. There were three guards above us, all leaning on the wall with their backs to us, talking and laughing. The water was pushing us forward, as we fought against it, trying to backtrack. We had to move closer to the side of the river, to get more of our body out, and thus reduce the pressure on us. Two guards started play fighting, one grabbing the other in a headlock, as the third turned to face the river. We stopped, as he stared in our direction, wondering if he had he seen us in the darkness? He didn’t flinch, but called his comrades over, to look at something in the water. Our camouflaged wet-suits were hiding us, but we had a little too much of our bodies outside the water, with our head and shoulders breaking the waves. He started pointing towards us, as his comrades stopped messing about, to concentrate. We remained stationary as they stared, talking to each other and pointing. I couldn’t get to my Welrod, if they spotted us, we were sitting ducks. It only lasted a couple of minutes, but it seemed like an eternity, I could feel my neck muscles straining, pain shooting down my back. They lost interest, and walked away, probably passing us off as a couple of rocks. When they had turned around, we started to make our way back towards the others, turning and swimming against the current when we were far enough away from the bridge. As we reached Sergeant Welsh, there was a loud rumbling from the direction of the bridge, as a couple of tanks crossed the river going south towards Poulton Le Fylde. This was exactly why the bridge needed to be blown, cutting their supply route, and isolating their army. Sergeant Welsh wasted no time, when there was a safe enough distance between us and the bridge, he used the remote detonator to blow it. The surface of the river lit up, as two explosions rocked the bridge, sending the stone structure crashing into the river and a wave of water that lifted us off our feet. A cloud of dust rose off the bridge, and men appeared on both sides of the river, running around in a panic, shouting at each other. They must have realised the significance off this surprise attack, as soon after they started firing their weapons indiscriminately into the water, around the collapsed bridge, as we set off back to the caravan park. When we got back, Atkinson helped us out the water, and wrapped us in towels he found in the caravan. We got changed back into our uniforms, but struggled for the next few hours to get any warmth back into our bodies. We arrived back as a fleet of Vikings set off for the front line, as another day of fighting started.
CHAPTER SEVEN
07/01/2028 - Time 23:00
I slept most of the way back, when we arrived we were moved to Camp Blue, as it was nearer to the fight. We weren’t allowed anywhere near our loved ones, instead staying in terraced houses on the outskirts of the camp, reserved for the military. We were ordered to get some sleep, but we were on a high after the bridge mission, and wanted to get back into the fighting, to help consolidate our position. I could hear the vehicles arriving back at camp with the injured and tired, and listened to the convoys of fresh companies leaving for the front line. After a couple of hours trying to sleep, I gave up and left the house, finding most of Blue and White Company had experienced the same problem, and were mixing with the camps residents. We hung around the base, waiting for orders, but none were forthcoming. Whenever we asked any senior military for an update, we were just told to wait, which was frustrating to say the least. At first we tried to make ourselves useful around camp, transferring boxes of ammo onto vehicles bound for the front line, and sorting through crates of ration packs, but the military seemed on top of everything. With little to do, we ended up in The George and Dragon, re-opened by the military to give the soldiers somewhere to partake in a little of the amber nectar. We hadn’t seen or heard from Sergeant Welsh or Sergeant Hargreaves all day, only appearing as the days fighting came to an end. We were then informed The Lancashire Fusiliers Ninth and Seventh Battalions had been taken off the front line, in order to rest and recuperate. The news went down like a lead balloon, everyone wanted to get back into the action, and finish the job.
‘It’s out my hand’ remarked Sergeant Welsh. ‘General Morris has made his decision, we will have to wait a little longer before we can join in. He did congratulate us on the mission to blow the bridge over the River Wyre, which has put us into a strong position. I’m just about to go into a meeting with Lieutenant Colonel Carter, to discuss our next objectives, I’ll speak to you when I know more.’
We headed back to The George and Dragon, and continued to drink like there was no tomorrow. Sergeant Welsh later informed us we were to be kept off the front line for a further three days, to fully recover, and prepare ourselves for the offensive on Torriero’s camp, that we would take a lead role in. In reality, this time away from the front line would obviously be used to get more and more drunk, forget the horrors we had witnessed, and those still to come. As we did, the battles raged on, and we received updates via Sergeant Welsh, or Lieutenant Colonel Carter. On the seventh, Torriero’s men regrouped after the set back of losing the bridge over The River Wyre, and launched an attack on The Leicester Tigers Battalion, who were holding Poulton Le Fylde and Skippool. The military estimation of Torriero’s numbers, based on spotter information, was four hundred and eighty men on this side of the river, three hundred and fifty on the other. Added to that, ten or eleven tanks on this side of the river, and a similar number on the other, where The Queens Lancers and The Rifles Battalions were keeping them occupied. The battlefield was mainly fought over the town of Skippool, which had been evacuated ahead of time, and suffered catastrophic damage. An eight hour tank battle ragged, destroying eighty percent of the buildings, and taking up most of the days fighting. Tank manoeuvres, mass games of hide and seek, and a large stand off. The losses for the day were estimated at fifty for Torriero, twenty one dead for the army, and ten injured and evacuated. Torriero lost two tanks in a particularly intense offensive, ending in the town centre, where they also lost the majority of their men. Before the fighting died out for the day, small scuffles broke out on the outskirts of Poulton Le Fylde, where the army had formed a small camp, after evacuating the town. On the opposite side of the river, Torriero’s army attacked The Queens Lancers and The Rifles Battalions, but were quickly driven back towards Hambleton, as they hit a larger and more organised army. The tanks were never used, and we received unconfirmed reports of them heading back towards Leeds.
08/01/2028 - Time 22:00
The generals of Camp Blue made changes on the front line on the morning of the eighth, The Queens Lancers, The Rifles and The Leicester Tigers Battalions were replaced by The Black Swans and 2nd Cavalry Battalion. The Black Swans took control of the remains of Hambleton, as Torriero’s army retreated back towards Leeds, and 2nd Cavalry Battalion went to meet Torriero’s men on the outskirts of Poulton Le Fylde. The Black Swans Battalion continued to hold position, on the north of the river, guarding an area roughly three miles square. We received confirmation that Torriero’s men, cut off from the rest of their army and retreating, had completed the journey to Leeds and were back within the city blockade. On the south of the river, Torriero’s men were first spotted heading down Breck Road, the army marching behind a convoy of tanks, spilling into the fields surrounding them. The 2nd Cavalry Battalion were rushed to meet them, and there ensured a muddy and bloody battle across the mainly open landscape. They had control of Amounderness Way, but as the road didn’t link up to anything, and they had no way of using it to get supplies, we let them have it. By midmorning, Torriero’s men had pushed The 2nd Cavalry Battalion back into Poulton Le Fylde, where the fight became more strategic, as buildings were used to take up sniping and gunner positions. Around five pm, Torriero’s men entered the town centre, splitting the army into two as one group continued down Breck Road and another followed the A588. After a few hours of fighting, for the majority of which had seen The 2nd Cavalry Battalion on the back foot, reinforcements arrived in the shape of The Black Cats Tank Battalion and The Red Rose Battalion. The tanks approached along the A585, which becomes Amounderness Way, and attacked Torriero’s army from a blind position. The Red Rose Battalion helped increase the numbers of boots on the ground, and fought alongside The 2nd Cavalry Battalion as the days fighting came to an end. Soldiers who had fought, described a fog of dust and ash clouding the sky above Poulton Le Fylde, as buildings on the outskirts were brought down. The battle was a bit cagey, like a game of chess, as both armies felt each other out, not wanting to show their hand, or make any mistakes. The army’s stats for the day were eighteen dead, seven injured and evacuated and six missing, presumed dead or captured. We also lost one tank, the first of the war, bring The Black Cats Tank Battalions vehicles down to nine. We estimated Torriero to have lost upwards of fifty men, and one tank, bringing their total down to nine on this side of the river. Before nightfall, the army positioned gunners and snipers on the northerly outskirts of the town, and had companies patrolling the areas we occupied.
9/1/28 - Time 19:30
If yesterday’s fighting had ended with a whimper, today’s started with a bang, as Torriero launched a make or break offensive on our army in Poulton Le Fylde. Some of our soldiers had been sleeping in properties on the southerly outskirts of the town, and were rudely awoken by mortar strikes around six am. No one was injured, but they caused damage to many properties, and were a reminder that this battle was far from over. Before the dust had chance to settle, Torriero’s army stormed our defences, advancing quickly into the centre of town, with a convoy of nine tanks, and the army following behind. They took out all our gun placements along Hardhorn Road, with shelling and tank fire, before they reached the junction with Garstang Road. There was a gunfight involving three companies from The 2nd Cavalry Battalion over the junction, but with no tank cover, the army lost the position. Torriero’s tanks split up, three positioning themselves along Hardhorn Road, three along Garstang Road and three on High Cross Road. His men swept through buildings, killing anyone they found, and driving The 2nd Cavalry Battalion back towards Blackpool. By the time The Black Cats Tank Battalion had entered the fold, Torriero’s men were dug in, and not to be moved easily. The army’s reluctance to hit Torriero’s men full on, when they had them on the ropes, had come back to bite them. Instead they’d stretched their battalions out, trying to cover a large area of vulnerable land, leaving key positions prone to attack. Torriero’s army of around four hundred men had burst through our line of defence, disorienting us, much like the Nazi Blitzkrieg tactic worked in the early movements of World War Two. Reinforcements arrived at midday, in the form of The Blue Frog Battalion, joining The 2nd Cavalry Battalion and The Black Cats Tank Battalion. After a short spell gathering intel on positions, the fight back started. Most of the early fighting was concentrated around High Cross Road, as the tanks were far enough apart to single out, and isolate. After the gun positions had been taken out, we were able to send two tanks in, to attack one enemy tank. Torriero’s communications were clearly limited, sometimes only relying on men on foot, which we could observe, and take out when necessary. The army used this tactic to good effect, taking out the first two tanks, as the soldiers on the ground mopped up any remaining men, painstakingly searching each building. Further allied tanks followed behind, as backup, as the convoy moved further into the centre, occupied by Torriero. The tank positioned on the junction for Hardhorn Road was a bigger obstacle, as it was within the sights of another tank, further up the road. We took it out, but at the cost of one of our own tanks, the first of the day. The flames and smoke coming from the shell of the tank covered the skyline, and we lost the element of surprise. A short but fierce tank battle ensured, in which the army lost three more tanks, and Torriero a further two, all within the space of an hour. There followed a period of stalemate, as both armies re-grouped, and tanks manoeuvred positions. Most of the fighting was on foot, shooting through buildings from behind cover, trying to take control of key positions, that would become a tactical advantage. At the end of the days fighting, it might have been the most costly day for the army, and Torriero’s men, although no numbers had been released at the time of writing. The loss of four tanks was a high price to pay, for regaining a bit of territory. As the battle tired battalions arrived back tonight, the soldiers looked exhausted and a little despondent, many carrying injuries. There will be changes on the front line tomorrow, as the generals try to regain the upper hand with fresh battalions, to face off with Torriero’s tiring army.
10/1/2028 - Time 21:30
We were given the news that both Lancashire Fusilier Seventh and Ninth Battalions would be back on the front line, on the morning of the tenth, and sent to sort out our equipment. The last three days had dragged like none other, and we were all pumped and ready to get back into the action. We were introduced to Clarets Company’s new recruits, Jim Garner and Michael Smith. Both men looked nervous, in their crisp, clean, ill fitting uniforms, and hung on every word Sergeant Hargreaves spoke. When we were ready, the Vikings rolled out of camp, heading for the battle zone. The conditions were cold, glum with a persistent rain that would stay with us most of the day. We drove through security positions, and acknowledged the soldiers guarding them, along Normoss Road towards Poulton Le Fylde. The dust over the town was still visible from miles away, as we drove into it the sounds of battle became more audible. Short bursts of gunfire, interspersed by long muffled explosions, as though the sound was being played through treacle. We continued onto High Cross Road, past the burnt out tank remains, slowing down as we reached a blockade, at the junction with Hardhorn Road. One of our tanks, none operational since yesterday’s fighting, had some of the army’s engineers working on it, trying to bring it back from the dead. A couple of soldiers stepped out of a building, by the remains of a tank, and waved us into a dentist’s car park. The first thing that struck me about the area we’d just landed in, was the bullet holes in nearly every surface I could see, metal signs, walls, windows and buildings. Every surface had been affected, chipped away at, as bullets tore through anything solid. We were ushered into a building, and told of our objectives, as the guards were relieved of their posts, and headed back to Camp Blue. Lancashire Fusilier Ninth Battalion was heading along Garstang Road, from the direction of Blackpool, where it would meet Torriero’s forces. Lancashire Fusilier Seventh Battalion would clean out any remaining fighters along Hardhorn Road, and surrounding area, incorpo
rating retail outlets and housing estates, meeting up with The Yorkshire Terriers Battalion around the junction with Garstang Road. The Stanley Company took control of the guard post, and the rest of The Lancashire Fusiliers Seventh Battalion collected their equipment, and set off on foot, past the blockade and into the battle zone. Glass and bricks covered the road, with cars and some buildings still burning. We stayed in our companies, and searched through the retailers on both sides of the road, finding bodies, debris, anything caught up in the gunfight. Some of the buildings were unsafe, with walls that needed knocking down before we could enter and search. Clarets Company came out of a hardware store with four of Torriero’s men, who had surrendered, their faces down as they were gathered together, and held at gunpoint by The Tangerine Company. Some of them sat on the pavement, huddled together like the homeless, enduring abuse from some of the soldiers. The first of Torriero’s men we found, were hiding in the back room of a car supplies centre, and came out with their hands in the air when they saw us. Sergeant Welsh was straight onto them, hitting one in his stomach with his rifle as he started to drop his arms.
‘Get your fucking hands up you piece of shit’ he shouted, as Little D walked between them. ‘I’ll take them back to Tangerine Company’ he said calmly.
Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 52
