Desert Strike

by Leo Nix

  “Hey look, Elias, the drone's filming us. Wave!” Tim raised his AK to fire a single precious bullet at the drone. It missed.

  “Tim, mate, leave the thing alone, don't waste any more ammo on it. Just keep these bastards back while I build a wall across the side in case they break through the front and rear positions,” ordered Elias, flicking his cigarette butt over the wall. His breath came in rasping gasps. It was hot and it was exhausting in the heat of late spring. They'd run out of water already.

  After a few minutes rest Tim said, “Elias, have you finished?” When his mate nodded Tim continued. “I'll try to get around behind them. Cover my back, will ya, mate.”

  Tim crawled a few metres away from his friend and lifted his rifle ready to fire down at the enemy below.

  “Tim, go a bit further across, mate. They'll probably be ready for you to show yourself from there. You're too close,” called Elias softly. Tim crawled another few metres in the heat of the morning sun. Leaning on his blistered elbows. He raised himself into a firing position and fired two more rounds.

  “How'd yer go?” asked Elias, busy with another heavy rock he was forcing into place in the new rock wall.

  “No good, missed. I think there's about three left down there but they're well hidden. I'm going to have to crawl out of our position and down the hill to get behind them properly,” he said licking his cracked, dry lips.

  “Just give me a moment to get this rock into place and I'll give you some covering fire.” He paused then said, “How many magazines do you have left Tim?”

  “I've got three. How many do you have?”

  “I've got four, here.” He threw a magazine across to his mate. “Grab this, you'll need it.” Tim stuffed it into his chest pouch and crawled to the end of their position. As the bush cover ended he lay down and slowly snaked another ten metres before easing his head to look down the slope of the hill.

  “SHIT!” he screamed as a head appeared right in front of him. Obviously the Crusaders had the same idea. A bullet cracked past his ear as he swung his own rifle around and towards his enemy. Crack! Crack! He saw the head splatter and the body and rifle flung backwards down the hill to land at its base some twenty metres below.

  Tim breathed heavily and his dry lungs made a horrid rasping noise as he tried to calm his breathing. There were more down there so he decided to crawl even further.

  Crack! Crack! Crack! He heard the firing from Elias' position. “Got him!” came his mate's roaring voice. “Come on you gutless Crusader pricks! I've got more where that came from!” He picked up a large rock and hurled it down the slope. There came a satisfying grunt as it landed on someone below.

  “Fuck you, Stormtroopers! You mongrel arse-wipes!” came a pained voice.

  Tim had to smile, Elias was a good mate but he was as subtle as a meat axe. That one rock would bring every damn soldier of Christendom towards their position, damn him. With bruised and blistered elbows from crawling on the hot rocks. Tim edged further away from Elias, determined to find a way to get behind their enemy. If all else failed, at least he'd die a hero doing his best to defend his mates.

  There came the sounds of heavy fighting from behind him. The staccato 'brrrrip' of automatic rifle fire increased in volume and he knew his mates on the front line were copping it. 'Poor sods, I bet the front post is done for. Better get this over with.' He slid stomach first down an incline and landed softly on a patch of red sand several metres below the top of the escarpment. He looked across to where he expected the enemy to be and saw them. There weren't two as he expected, there were nine. Fortunately, they were still watching out for Elias' rock bombardment.

  “Oh shit,” he sighed. As he was trained to do, he silently checked his AK, switched to a full magazine and selected it to fire three round bursts. With luck he'd take out most of them before he'd have to change magazines. If he didn't then he'd just back away and keep retreating until he came across a defensible position. Then he'll fight it out until he ran out of ammunition. Tim knew he was dead, but at least he'd go down fighting, and on film too. He smiled at that thought, then pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 5 - Diamantina Massacre

  Tim's first magazine took out the first few enemy. The others fell to the ground holding their hands in the air screaming their surrender. He saw four members lying on the ground, two were squirming in agony and the other five had their hands held high, clearly freaked out.

  “Elias!” cried Tim at the top of his voice. “Elias! Get your arse here. I've got prisoners!”

  A few seconds later he saw his mate's head peep suspiciously over the rock wall.

  “Well I'll be hot dogged! You bloody beauty, Timothy! You've captured their whole damn army!” he yelled. Waving his rifle at them, he called for the Crusaders to climb up to his position and sit on their hands. In the meantime, Tim collected every weapon he could find and stripped the dead bodies of ammunition.

  The two wounded soldiers were in a bad way, both were now unconscious. He had no time to carry them, so he did what he considered the right thing to do. After a short prayer, he dispatched them to Revelationist heaven.

  “I'll get Normy, he's busy but he'll like this,” said Elias. Tim kept his weapon on the five prisoners and told them to lie on their stomachs and empty their pockets, one by one. They did as they were told and they did it quickly.

  “Hey, mate,” said one of the Crusaders, turning his face to keep his mouth off the dusty ground. “What the hell are we fighting you heroes for? We should join up and beat them Ravens Claws and their blood brothers, them bastard Talons.”

  Tim just looked at him smiling, he'd had exactly the same thought. Just then, Normy scampered over and flung himself behind cover just as a burst of rifle fire came at them from across the flat top of the hill.

  “Shit! They've come up from behind, bloody mongrels!” Normy wiped sand from his rifle as he looked at his prisoners. “We had them pinned for a while at least.” Before he could say anything else, a startled Elias opened fire at the approaching Ravens Claws not thirty metres away now.

  Tim repeated what the Crusader said, they wanted to join up with the Stosstruppen to fight the Ravens Claws and the elite Talons.

  “If you boys want to join us…” Normy started to speak but didn't finish as a burst of machine gun fire hit their position.

  “Holy shit!” cried Elias as he pulled his hand away from his rifle. He looked at his hand and saw that his little finger was missing. Blood dripped down his arm, leaving a red trail on his shirt. “Bastards took my finger off,” he said in bewilderment.

  “Hold on a bit mate, I'll fix it,” said Tim as he looked at the wound. He pulled a bandage from Elias's webbing and wrapped it around his mate's shaking hand to stop the bleeding. “Now grab your rifle and get back to work mate,” said Tim gently as more bullets hit their position sending shards of rock among the Stosstruppen and the Crusader prisoners.

  “Hey mates! I've got our last grenade here in my pouch. Let me pass it to you so you can shut that machine gun up,” said the Crusader sergeant.

  Normy took the grenade, primed it and waited for the machine gunner to pause. He saw a squad of three Ravens Claws race forward and knew he had a tiny window of time to throw the grenade. He stood and lobbed it to land at the base of the machine gun tripod. The explosion not only killed the gun team but destroyed the weapon as well.

  Elias, his face screwed into a grimace as he tried to control the pain in his hand said thickly, “Nice throw, Corporal, can you now finish that mob with the AK's off as well?”

  The incoming fire from the three Ravens Claws that accompanied the machine gunners, hit the wall like hail. The flying rock fragments forced Tim and Normy to duck down lower.

  “You blokes interested in joining the fight on our side then?” asked Normy, trying to catch a glimpse of the Ravens Claws through the cracks in the rock wall.

  The sergeant rolled over onto his back and sat up, leaning low against the rocks. “Yo
u bet, mate. We've been competing against these pricks all year and they've won ninety percent of our contacts. They're proper mongrels and they don't play fair, they kill their prisoners.” The sergeant turned to his squad. “What do you boys reckon? We join these heroes who've knocked over the Sundown Commando or would you rather die here when this position gets overrun by the Talons?”

  One of the Crusaders rolled onto his back pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he offered them around. “Mate, just give us our weapons and we'll join your mob. When it's over we'll all go with you to Marree and become Stosstruppen.”

  Corporal Normy ducked once more but this time the fire was coming from the other side. Their front line was folding and his position was close to being overrun. He had to make up his mind quickly.

  “Shit! Tim, give the Crusaders their weapons. You blokes need to share your ammo with us though. We're just about out.” Normy turned his back on the Crusaders and fired at the three Ravens Claws trying to crawl forward towards their position.

  There were noises behind him as the men cocked their weapons and waited for the corporal to direct them. Normy turned around and saw them waiting expectantly for his command.

  “Right, you lot, on the count of three, we're going over the top and rush these three bastards shooting at us. Anyone who holds back I'll personally kill. Got it?” He stared at them, but not a face showed anything but solid determination.

  The sergeant spoke up, just as another volley hit their weakening rock wall. “Corp, don't worry, we know how to fight, and we know how to kill Ravens Claws. Just give us the count and we'll follow you.”

  “Right! One, Two, Three!” They rose to leap forward, firing from the hip. It was over in seconds. The three Ravens Claws lay riddled with bullets.

  Without waiting he turned and yelled, “Quickly, follow me! We're gonna push these shits off our hill!” Normy knew he had to maintain the momentum against the enemy swarming over their frontal positions. He glanced at the carnage of his front line and saw men fighting hand to hand, wrestling each other like a swarm of bull ants. His front had collapsed and they were at risk of being rolled right off the hilltop and exterminated.

  With a roar loud enough to instil fear even in the most hardened of warriors, Corporal Normy led his squad towards the fighting. Two of the Crusaders squatted, took careful aim and began providing covering fire. They'd done this so many times it was automatic. Within moments they'd pushed the assault back over the edge of the escarpment. The small force quickly dispatched the remaining Ravens Claws caught in the open.

  Normy looked around at the bodies. He had just seven of his Stosstruppen left and that included himself, Tim and Elias. These plus the five Crusader prisoners made twelve. He watched as they squatted together on their haunches and passed their water bottles around as though they were all old mates.

  “Sergeant, do you have any idea where the rest of your boys are?” he asked quickly, mindful that the battle could swing against them at any moment.

  The sergeant cupped his hand to his mouth and yodelled loudly. They heard a similar yodel coming from the side where Tim and Elias had been fighting.

  “Can you bring your boys up and put them here, here and here?” Normy pointed out the defensive positions that had been overrun. The sergeant jogged to the escarpment and called for the rest of his platoon to climb up to the hilltop with him. Tim noticed that the Crusaders weren't at all fussed at joining them. It was then that he realised the Stosstruppen really were heroes to the Crusader soldiers who had never faced an enemy other than their own Revelationists - the Talons and Ravens Claws of Mount Isa.

  Each new arrival nodded to the three Stosstruppen and squatted among their mates as they went to their appointed positions. They quickly and reverently dragged the bodies out of the pits and repaired the rock walls.

  Tim took his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and rolled himself and Elias a cigarette. He lit them, handing one to Elias, who held it in his shaking hand.

  “There ya go, mate, sit down over there and rest up a bit. I'll grab some food and water from our visitors and share it around,” Tim said.

  The sounds of activity down in the gully below heralded the arrival of the elite Talons. There came shouts and loud yells of frustration as the Talons realised what had happened.

  “Bastards!” came a voice from below. “That's cheating! You're not suppose to join your platoons.”

  Tim walked to the edge and called back. “Go fuck yerselves! We're up here so come and get us!”

  There came a few chuckles from the survivors on the hill. But they all knew things would soon change. The Ravens Claws were good, the survivors on the hilltop had just seen what they could do. But the Talons, the elite of the Mount Isa battalions, had yet to prove themselves against the Stosstruppen. Everyone knew that it was just a matter of time before one side or the other perished.

  The Crusaders passed their water bottles to their parched Stosstruppen mates and tended their wounds as best they could. Combined, there were now fourteen defenders against eighteen Talons plus the remaining Ravens Claws who'd escaped back down the hill.

  “You're all going to die you know! We're going to give you the bayonet and knife treatment when we get up there!” came the same voice from below.

  Tim called back once more, “Up yours mate! One Stosstruppen can beat a dozen of you dick-head Talons!” He added as an afterthought, “With plastic spades!”

  “Mate, ignore them, they're deliberately distracting us from what they're really up to,” said the Crusader sergeant. He rubbed absently at a bloody wound on his arm and turned to Normy. “Corporal, you'd better strengthen the defenders back where you took out the machine gunners. I'll look after this end if you like.”

  Normy looked at the sergeant and then the defenders. They looked tired but he noticed that there was also hope. The two battalions had developed a camaraderie he hadn't expected. He saw soldiers sharing cigarettes, food from their kits and water from their bottles - it looked like a gathering of close friends.

  The drone passed over them again. High up they could barely discern the buzz of its engine. One of the Crusaders waved to it.

  “They sell this film to the other battalions you know. All over Australia it goes, bastards. They're sick pricks filming blokes dying like this,” said a gray-haired older man as he leaned across one of the wounded to help him drink out of his water bottle.

  Just as they were settling into their positions, there came a voice from among the Crusaders. Everyone stopped to listen. A powerful baritone voice begun to sing the 'Hymn For The Dead'. One by one the troops from both battalions joined in to sing the popular tune often sung at the end of a church service. It wasn't a funeral song but rather a song to rejoice a life lived to glorify their Lord. It was a popular song which inspired even the most hardened non-Revelationist.

  The men picked it up, singing loudly with a passion knowing they were soon going to die. The song peaked just as the Talons sprung forward up the slope of the hill and onto the crest of the hill. They were among the survivors before they knew it. The Ravens Claws and their elite brothers, the Talons, had attacked each weakened position simultaneously.

  The incoming fire was tremendous. Each squad raced forward under fierce covering fire from the squad behind and within moments they were into the defenders positions, fighting hand to hand with knife, rifle butt and fist. Each terrorist in the Diamantina reserve was now in a vicious fight to the death. Not a single soldier was under the illusion they would survive so they fought with a passion and desperate savagery to die as they lived, for their church.

  Elias leaped up swearing as he furiously swung his empty rifle like an axe at three Talons. His voice was hoarse from screaming their war song a moment earlier. He tripped one and smashed the man's head with a blow from his rifle butt. As he stood to face the others he felt a knife slide between his ribs and rip into his lungs. He tried to call for his mate, Tim, but blood gushed from his mouth. Gagging, he coll
apsed to the ground on top of the body of his dead enemy. The other Talon smashed the pummel of his knife into the side of Elias' head killing him instantly. The two Talons turned to rush towards the fighting, milling crowd only a few metres away.

  Corporal Normy held off two Talons, their bayonets drawn and already dripping blood. They each knew no quarter would be granted so no quarter was asked. Normy raised his head for a split second to watch the drone dip down to film his death.

  In that second he resolved himself to die gloriously for a God he didn't believe in, a religion he'd paid lip service to but which had given him a power and pleasure that he'd never known in his former life. In that moment his heart filled with an enormous joyfulness and he jumped at his two assailants, catching them by surprise. His fist smashed one in the face. The man went down as his nasal bone punctured his brain. The other tripped as he fell over a body trying to escape this madman.

  Normy had his hands around the Talon's throat screaming with joy. He was no longer Normy, he was a Knight Crusader in the Holy Lands of Palestine. He remembered the heat, the sun and the glare. He could smell the stale sweat of men and horses, and he felt the camaraderie of his fellow warriors of a thousand years ago. He was there right, now, a warrior of Christendom, a soldier of Christ.

  Only ten metres away Tim was on the ground caught in a crushing headlock by one of the Talons. His head felt like it was going to explode as he desperately swung his foot behind his opponent's leg and flipped him over. They both landed heavily on the dry earth. The solidly built Stosstruppen tried to stand but another Talon dived onto him and stabbed his knife blade into his arm. The blade stuck in the ground and pinned Tim allowing his enemy to grab at his exposed throat.

  In desperate pain Tim reefed his arm upwards and the knife sliced through muscle rendering his arm useless. Weakened and losing blood, he clutched at the man's face managing to shove a finger into his assailant's eye. As the Talon let go, Tim pushed himself away with his good arm.