The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War)

by Edmond Barrett

  “Christ, you could get hurt doing this shit,” he muttered as they untangled from one another.

  “Take cover!” came a voice from behind them.

  There was a bang behind the blockage they’d just rolled over and they were both pelted with bits of soil.

  “No bloody kidding! Let’s keep moving,” Alice snapped back at him.

  Another ten minutes saw them reach the remains of Section Three’s position. Alice wouldn’t have believed it but this part of the trench line was in even worse condition than that immediately outside the shelter. The marines were now firing from what amounted to little more than a deep ditch.

  “Now what do we do?” her partner shouted into her ear as they both sheltered in what was left of a traverse.

  “Sit tight until we have someone to evacuate I guess!” she shouted back at him. To keep their heads below the trench parapet, the two of them had to remain crouched. After only a few minutes Alice’s back and legs were starting to object to the awkward position.

  “I wish we could see what was happening,” he said after a few minutes, half rising from a crouch. Alice dragged him back down.

  “Please don’t get shot. I don’t want to end up dragging your arse out of here!”

  “Nice to know you care.” he replied before offering a grimy hand, “I’m Damien Demolder.”

  “Alice Peats,” she replied, returning his handshake.

  “I’ve seen you around. So, come here often?”

  “I came here on leave. Didn’t expect to be here for more than a couple of weeks,” she replied.

  “Tough break.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. My ride out of here was one of the ones they got at Baden, so believe me it could be worse.”

  Several bullets whistled over their heads, but in which direction was anyone’s guess.

  “You just keep saying that and you might make me believe it.”

  “What about yourself?”

  “Oh long term planetary resident,” he shrugged. “I decided to come up here for the season,” he shouted over a particularly long burst of fire.

  “So you decided against taking up residence in one of the luxury subterranean apartments then?”

  “Yes I wanted somewhere with a bit more of a view.”

  Alice looked around. Inside the trench they couldn’t see more than three metres in any direction bar straight up.

  “It didn’t quite live up to the billing,” Damien added. “I’ll be complaining to the travel agent.”

  Despite everything that was happening around them, she had to laugh and it felt good to do so.

  “Grenade!” someone nearby yelled followed by a sharp explosion and then someone screaming.

  “Medic!” Suddenly for Alice that brief moment of levity was gone. Looking at Damien, she could see her own fear mirrored in his face and knew that if she didn’t move straight away, she never would.

  “Come on!” she shouted at him as she snatched up their stretcher.

  ___________________________

  10:48 Hrs

  “It’s infantry assaults so far. Human waves, for want of a better phrase.”

  “Armour?” Eulenburg asked.

  “So far sir, theirs is providing limited fire support from the tree line. The artillery, our and theirs, is duelling. Their fire seems to be slackening but whether that’s because we’re knocking out batteries, or they’re not firing, we don’t know. The recce drones aren’t able to get overhead. With the lasers limiting themselves to protecting the guns though, we’ve only had two unit knocked out so far. ”

  “We’re holding them Captain. We’re holding them,” Eulenburg replied, a measure of relief evident in his voice. “Whatever else they aren’t rolling over us.”

  “Not so far anyway, sir,” Gillum didn’t look as positive. “I’ve just seen the latest numbers from analysis.”

  Eulenburg turned away from the main display.

  “What are they saying?”

  “That if the assaults keep up at the current pace, ammunition in the firing line is going to become an issue.”

  “What happened to sending it forwards? As soon as an attack starts it’s supposed to be sent forwards!”

  “Sir, the communication trenches are gone. We’re getting reports that they can’t get the munitions up, or at least not in serious quantities. We may have to order a retreat, sir, at least back as far as…”

  “NO!” The shout was loud enough to silence Four C. Eulenburg spun on his heels to face the Captain. “They have the rest of the planet. This bit is ours and we’re not giving it up!”

  “Our troops can’t fight without bullets, sir,” Gillum replied with a shake of his head. His tone remained even but resolute, “and soon sir, that’s what they’ll be trying to do.”

  Eulenburg turned back to the display and leaned his elbows on the handrail. “What you are saying Captain, is correct on a rational level,” he said more quietly this time, “but there is more to this than rationality. We have no depth to our position and we cannot communicate reliably with our frontline. If we attempt to retreat it could turn into a rout and a massacre. We psychologically need to show ourselves that we can hold them.”

  “What do you want me to do, sir?” Gillum replied quietly.

  “Order the Indian Infantry battalions and their supporting elements to load up with ammunition, theirs and for the marines, then to move up into the frontline. Their orders are to simply hold the line. Once that’s done, contact the next reserve formation, and tell them to prepare to move.”

  “That would be the French sir.”

  “We are going to pour troops into that sector until we either hold or we lose. Sent my orders please. Oh and Captain.”

  Gillum turned back. “Sir?”

  “Speak to Governor Reynolds. This evening we’re going to needs to send military representatives into the civilian population to ask for volunteers. If this is what we can expect, we’re going to need more warm bodies.”

  ___________________________

  11:45 Hrs

  “Medic! Get a damn medic over here!”

  “Give us five bloody minutes for God’s sake,” Damien complained as he rolled back onto his feet. Alice didn’t have enough spare breath to add anything to his complaint. For nearly two hours the pair had carried the wounded back to the forward aid station before working their way back to the frontline. Several times they’d come uncomfortably close to becoming casualties themselves.

  “I hope this one has the decency to still be alive when we reach the aid station.”

  “That’s tasteless, Damien,” Alice told him.

  “I’m getting waaaay beyond taste Alice.”

  Rounding into the bay they found their latest customer sitting on the firing step bleeding. From the opposite direction another aid team came into the bay.

  “Piss off, this ones ours,” Damien called out and they disappeared back the way they’d come.

  There were only five marines in the bay including their casualty. The bloodstained fingers of his left hand were clamped around his upper right arm. Alice had to prise the fingers loose.

  “Come on marine, gimme a look,” she said in a now practised soothing voice as the marine’s breath hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to help here.” Slowly he released his death grip on the wounded arm. Alice could immediately see what had happened. The bullet had clipped the leading edge of his arm plate, which had deflected the projectile inwards, by the looks of things far enough to have missed the arm bone, but not so far that it went into his chest. The heavy calibre bullet had however blown one hell of a lump of flesh out of his arm, yet the marine had been lucky. A second bullet had struck him square in the centre of his chest. The armour had stopped it, but judging by the deep crater in the breastplate, only just.

  “Damien, have we any painkillers for this guy?”

  “We’re all out Alice. Guys,” he called out to the marines on the firing step, “anyone got anything for a
brother?”

  “Yeah,” one replied tossing over a personal kit. He looked only briefly towards them, then did a double take.

  “Doc?”

  Alice glanced up from the mangled flesh.

  “Hello Rob, glad to see you’re still alive,” she replied. “I’ve been seeing too many people I know on my stretcher.”

  “Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around at the moment.”

  “Rob you bastard,” hissed the patient through clenched teeth, “would you stop talking to her and let her get on with it!”

  “Sorry mate,” Rob apologised.

  “You a doctor?” he asked her.

  “Yes, but not the right kind,” Alice made a face as she started to wind on the bandage. “Doctor of language. I’ve been getting a lot of on-the-job training on the medical stuff today.”

  “Yeah, who hasn’t?”

  “Where’s the rest of your squad?” Damien asked as he ripped away the packaging of the morphine shot. The marine let out a whimper of relief as Damien pressed the micro injector to his neck and activated it. Between the two of them they’d established a pattern: Damien applied painkillers, passed Alice the dressings and distracted the patient, while Alice applied whatever field dressing was needed.

  “You guys have already carted off two of them. Taffy is over there,” he nodded and winced. Alice looked over her shoulder. Another marine she’d hadn’t seen when they arrived was slumped against the back wall of the trench. A disturbing amount of his head was missing. “The L.T. sent Woolie, Mufty and Micky somewhere else. Guess he’ll have to be sending some of them back,” their patient continued.

  “Did you see the guy that got you?” Damien asked.

  “Wouldn’t call it a guy, but yeah, I saw it. Thought it was dead. We’d already shot it once. Damn thing sat up and popped me.”

  “What are they?” Alice asked as she safety pinned the dressing into place.

  “Buggered if I know. All I’ve seen so far is blobs and muzzle flashes. Have to put at least a dozen rounds into them to make them go down.”

  As the marine was speaking a machinegun started firing from somewhere off to Alice’s left.

  “Contact!” shouted one of the marines down the bay. “Controlled bursts guys, no rock and roll. You guys, ship on out of here right now.”

  They didn’t need a second invitation. With their patient they started to make their way towards the communications trench that would take them back to the support line. All the marines were now on the firing step. She hadn’t noticed before but suddenly Alice became aware just how depleted their ranks had become.

  “Here they come!” a marine further up the trench shouted. Even as he spoke he took a direct hit and pitched backward into the trench. He was dead before he hit the ground. Despite that, instinct might have taken Alice forward to try to help him but she didn’t get that chance. Something, something big and far bigger than a man, burst over the parapet and dropped into the trench. Alice and Damien dived in different directions as it pointed a weapon towards them and sent an indiscriminate burst down the bay. The painkillers must have slowed his reactions, because their patient didn’t move fast enough. He was still standing in the middle of the trench when the heavy bullets smashed him from his feet. As the gaping muzzle of its gun swung towards her, Alice tried to roll away but immediately crashed into the trench wall. She wasn’t a religious person but as its gun came to bear a prayer leapt to her throat.

  Another marine from the opposite side of the bay jumped onto its back and rammed a bayonet into its neck, right to the hilt. The creature let out an almost human scream as it threw the marine off. Even as it collapsed bleeding, it was still trying to bring the weapon around to fire. Alice’s relief was short lived, as a second then a third dropped into the trench.

  From beyond the breakthrough Alice could hear someone shouting: “Fall back! Fall back!”

  “Back up! Back upbackupbackup!” Damien shouted as he dragged at her. Together they darted around the corner into the traverse as the defenders and attackers blasted at each other from point-blank range. The noise was now deafening and from where Alice was standing the entire front seemed to have erupted. The handful of marines they passed was now firing continuously. Several times they came across brutal hand-to-hand fighting. The invaders were massive creatures that loomed over the defending marines. Despite the difference in size, with their power-assisted armour, the marines could hold their own one-on-one, while the trenches continued to prevent the attackers from enjoying all the benefits of weight of numbers. Fleeing from one fight to another, Alice wasn’t left with a clear narrative of events, just disjointed pictures. What the invaders were she still couldn’t say, not with any certainty. They were huge, looming shapes smashing and blasting at the humans around them. Step by bloody step the marines were driven back.

  ___________________________

  13:13 Hrs

  Eulenburg paced back and forth, intermittently glancing up at the main display. On the holo the battlefield display was clean, even sterile, a far cry from the bloody reality hundreds of metres above. Bright blue blocks signifying the four companies of Indian troops were slowly moving up to the frontline. Much as he wanted to contact them and urge them forward, Eulenburg knew that such an act would be at best futile and at worst counterproductive. They hadn’t even reached the support line and already the Indians were having to fight their way forward. In places the enemy infiltrated their way through both lines, not in any great numbers - thank God - but that willingness to get cut off yet still fight their way forward, was rewriting the rulebook on ground combat.

  A petty officer approached to hand Eulenburg a fresh report before quickly retreating from the command platform. The Admiral quickly skimmed across the text. His expression, already grim, tightened.

  “Captain Gillum.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “This isn’t working, Captain.” Eulenburg shook his head, “The Nameless are feeding in troops at least as fast as we are. Damn it, I am not a soldier, I don’t know what I’m doing here!”

  “Sir, we…” Gillum started to say.

  “Troops are starting to trickle back. The next step is a rout,” Eulenburg cut him off. “That’s what this is telling me,” he said before with sudden fury flinging the data pad across Four C. “Our frontline is starting to buckle!”

  Eulenburg returned to his pacing, still glaring up at the display. “Captain, contact the medical section. I need Brigadier Chevalier down here, any way they can. Now!” he ordered. “And Captain. I am not interested in medical opinion.”

  Chevalier was half hidden amongst the mass of medical instrumentation attached to his trolley bed. The senior medical officer had stormed into Four C to remonstrate with Eulenburg, but barely got two words out before being shouted down and sent back the way he’d come with his tail between his legs. A few minutes later the Brigadier arrived.

  “We need to cut off… their advance… take away their momentum,” Chevalier said slowly between breaths.

  “We can’t. They’re getting troops into the fighting faster than I can. I moved extra troops up to protect the laser batteries. They’ve stopped the advance on the flanks but they’re still coming through the centre,” Eulenburg explained. As he did so he wondered whether his decision to bring the Brigadier down was grasping at straws. With his eyes still bandaged, Chevalier couldn’t even see the display.

  “What is our… artillery doing?”

  “Counter battery fire against theirs, sir,” Gillum replied.

  “We need to shift it… to support the front. A continuous… barrage line… in the killing ground… in front of… our lines.”

  “Sir, respectfully, right now we don’t know how much of their artillery has been knocked out and how many are merely suppressed,” Gillum objected. “If we take the pressure off…”

  “Have to… risk it,” Chevalier replied.

  “Send the order Captain,” Eulenburg said after a few moments o
f thought. Within minutes the Northern Quadrant was flashing red on the main display as once again explosives rained down.

  ___________________________

  20:00 Hrs

  “Yeah, there we are. You’ve cracked two ribs, bruised a couple more.” The corpsman turned off his hand scanner. “Could be worse,” he added.

  “Thank you so much for stating the blindingly obvious,” Alice replied tightly as she buttoned up her top. Most of the casualties had now been evacuated from the dressing station but evidence of the day’s events in the form of soiled bandages, discarded syringes and the still overwhelming smell of blood remained.

  “Here take these,” the corpsman said handing her a packet of pills. “Two a day. They’ll enhance bone growth.” He made an entry on his computer terminal. “I’m signing you off as fit only for light duties for a week.”

  “I’m looking for an Alice Peats. Is she here?” someone called out from the tent’s entrance. At the sound of her name, Alice turned and immediately winced as her abused ribs complained.

  “Yes, over here,” she called back when the pain released its grip.

  The questioner was a fleet staff officer; even with a helmet and flak jacket on, he looked out of place. Too clean.

  “What is you want?” she asked bluntly as he approached.

  “Alice Peats, who formally served on the Harbinger?” he asked.

  “Yes, that’s still me.”

  “Good. Orders from Four C. The Admiral wants to see you.”

  The staff officer didn’t have any explanation about why she was required and after months spent around the military, Alice suspected he simply hadn’t been told. Soon she was heading down into the depths of the shelter. The place had certainly changed since she was first drafted. Then people had been refugees, now the place was starting to definitely look like a settlement. As she passed, people looked at her as if she was from another world.