Friday, March 15, 2013

The Sovereign's 6th

My job has been kicking my butt lately. I would like to apologize for not getting any updates up for a while. I will have some time off next week, and the updates will flow.... I promise.

To tide you over... I was playing some Civilization IV: Beyond the Sword the other day. A situation occurred, and I thought it was deserving of a back story and a short story to go with it.... Enjoy!


.................................................................



My Dearest Mary,

I hope that you are well, and that you and my mother have been able to keep young Joey in check in my absence. He is such a spirited boy my brother. Always wanting to be out in the world doing and seeing new things. The mail has been slow in coming to me, so I assume that it has been slow going to you as well so I do not know what the last words of mine you have heard at the time of me writing this letter, but the ones that I write now might just be my last. With this in mind I apologize for the strict nature of the subject, but, as this might be the only record of what I have seen, ... well I want it to be thorough and complete.
As you know I am on deployment with the 6th Battalion of the King's Infantry. It was my dream deployment. They were the first unit to receive the new field upgrades in weapons and equipment, and they always pull the best active duty assignments. The day I received my assignment, well you remember how giddy that letter was... Now I fear that the assignment of my dreams has become a nightmare.
In the briefings on the long voyage, we were told that we were going in as a special operations raid in concert with our Zulu ally’s invasion of the Portuguese mainland. The 6th was supposed to be working in concert with American Empire Navy Special Operations teams to quickly subdue a target, and then hold said objective until the relief ships came with the garrison force. In the briefings we were told that the longest we would be on objective, or in Portuguese territory, was going to be two weeks. Well my dearest... We are currently in our second month of hiding out in the forest. No one saw what was coming, not even the Commander, and we all thought that Sir Ian Douglas was a man who saw everything. But when it all happened... it just happened so fast... well we all did what we had to do...

The boat lurched as the waves hammered against it and even after months at sea PFC Jack Richards still was unsure of his footing on board anything then sailed on the ocean. He kept trying to tell himself that it was just because he was on the landing boat now, and that once he got back on the transport ship al of his problems would cease, but before he could get back on that transport ship he, and his friends, had some work to do. The King's Infantry 6t Battalion, the crown jewel of the King's army, and Jack was part of it. He remembered when he heard the news, and how happy he had been. When he sent word to his mother she had cried, he knew because of the tear stains on her return letter, and she had told him how proud she was, and how proud that his father would be when he found out. She told him to keep his head down, and to listen to his CO, and that he would be home before he knew it. When Jack found out that the 6th was to be deployed immediately for out of country action the thrill of action coursed through his veins, and now after months at sea, this was it. The 6th was landing. The landing boats were coming in south of the objective city, the better to avoid the cliffs that skirted it on the north. As jack waited for the ship to reach the shore Jack peeked a look over the side of the boat. In between the box shaped landing boats, he could see the rubber "Zodiac" rafts used by the Navy Special Operations Teams. They were working with four of the NSO teams on this mission to complete their objective, and Jack found their presence very comforting. Not that he didn't trust the Sovereign's 6th to complete the mission on its own, but the presence of the NSO teams, and of the Navy Destroyers and Aircraft Carriers made him believe that the mission was of critical importance and that they had all of the force necessary to pull it off. As the 6th and the NSO teams launched their naval landing, the fleet elements were launching their own attacks against the city's shore batteries and defense barricades, and over the din of the engine he could hear the thump of the guns and the crash of the shells exploding against their targets, as he could just barely see the fighters off of the carrier fly through the smoke filled sky. His CO Lieutenant Welsh turned around to address the men, having just finished talking to someone on the units new radio. It was one of the first models small enough to be carried into the field, although it still had to be carried like a backpack by a soldier whose soul duty was to follow the Lieutenant around just in case he needed to make a call. "Alright men, the call is Divine Intervention" he shouted over the sound of the engine and the crash of the waves, "the beach is clear of hostiles, it looks like they all pulled back into the city, so we will have an unopposed landing." With that said there was a cheer all around Jack, and he felt himself lift his voice and cheer as well. Everyone in the unit knew that the hardest part of any navel assault has the landing. Now that they knew they was nothing waiting to oppose them, this mission was going to be a cake walk...

... we were all so excited Mary, the hard part was over and we were going to get to watch the show as the Navy pounded the target flat from air and sea before we moved in to clean up the mess. Sure it was still going to be tough and dangerous, but we were to have every advantage. As the boats hit the beach, the ramps dropped and we thundered onto the beach at a full run. Even though we were told it was empty, it never pays to be careless. My boat was one of the first to ground out, and as the ramp dropped and we rushed out, we could see one of the NSO teams who had grounded next to us pulling their Zodiac up the beach with them as they made for the bottom of the first dune. With my own fifty pounds of equipment on my back feeling like a piano dragging me down, I had no idea how those NSO boys were doing it, maybe that’s why I was a simple infantrymen. In either case, we made it to the base of the dune without incident. That’s when we got the first sign of trouble...

...Hitting the beach and making for the dune at full sprint, the 6th made a good showing off themselves. On each Flank two NSO teams formed a screen, and waited as the main body finished their landing. It was perfectly by the book as far as the CO was concerned, everyman was off of the boats in good time, and the perimeter was set on the beach with zero casualties being taken. As the boats pulled back to the transport ships Jack looked back at them, the next time he was on a boat would be the transport that would dock at the harbor after they had taken the city. Looking back at the naval ships bombarding the city, Jack was one of a few people to realize that the shelling had stopped. In fact the ships just off of the coast were maneuvering. He figured that a cross current might have forced them to maneuver to keep a bead on the city. That was when they saw the first explosion. The "AES Chicago", one of the aircraft carriers attached to the fleet exploded amidships.  The men on the beach suddenly found themselves with something to look at as explosions started among the other ships in the fleet as well. As they watched their fleet offshore begin to disintegrate in front of their eyes. With all eyes drawn toward the water, they almost missed the contrails of smoke coming up from the city toward the planes that were returning to protect their carriers. Three planes were downed in as many seconds, and in the following chaos the rest of the Air Corps fell as well.  The beach was now in disarray, as the men began to panic. Commander Douglas began calling orders to the battalion. But before he could do much more then calm the men down, the call came from the NSO team on the right flank. Cavalry, armed and looking for a fight were massing to the south. Commander Douglas, hearing this news goaded the men into action, and traveling south the headed toward the forested hill just to the south of the objective, the forest that was on all of their objective maps, but that no one thought in a million years that they would ever have to enter...

...We made it to the relative safety of the trees, and after moving to about what we thought to be the center of the forest, or at least the highest point the forest allowed, we made camp. Commander Douglas set the NSO teams as a picket forth, one each to the north, south, east and west. While the rest of us began to dig in for a defensive stand. Sir Ian kept reminding us that the reinforcement fleet was only two weeks behind us, and that as soon as they arrived they had plenty of men and equipment aboard to stage a rescue, if not an all out invasion. He also reminded us of our Zulu allies who were also on continent and who would be getting the call even now about a lost allied unit who could be in need of support. Thinking about it now, to the credit of the men, not a one of us was afraid of what was going to happen. I guess that is what makes a good Commander, a man who can remind you of your duty, but still have the force of personality to pull you through in a time of need. So instead of worrying, we were digging foxholes, and a trench, yes I know right a trench, that we could use to defend against the enemy. The men joked that if they had known the troop transports had been time machines that they would have had other plans for them, and with jokes like these on everyone's minds the work took us away from worrying about what was to come in the days ahead...

...The troops of the American Empire did not have to wait long for the Portuguese troops to show themselves. That night the cavalry that they had seen earlier in the day came at them from the south as Portuguese Musket men from the city came at them from the north. As far as the 6th knew, it was nothing more than a probe, but as far as the NSO teams were concerned it was a hard push, by a group that had outdated weapons and tactics. Easily held back, but still some casualties were taken. But with typical NSO style no complaints were made, and the casualties were not even reported. It was not a team leader’s job to make frivolous reports, as long as his team could hold their objective there was not a report worth making. After the initial attacks it was quiet for a few days and the 6th began to get nervous. That is when the second wave of attacks came. The push was strong enough that the NSO teams fell back to the trench line to add their defensive fire to that of the 6th. Once again the charge was led by cavalry and musket men, this time though it came from the east. It was again held off with only light casualties, but it was a stronger push. The men of the 6th though felt better about the situation, they had seen the enemy, and they faced them, and triumphed. It was the last time that they would feel that way. For the next seven days straight they were holding their position against concentrated attacks by the Portuguese forces. Slowly they were losing men to the attrition of war, and Commander Douglas knew that eventually his men would break. After the seventh day the 6th's radio man called for the commander that he had a call on the radio from Admiral Haines of the 8th Fleet. Ian, knowing that this was the reserve force, finally found his spirits lifting, his men had done it, they had held out against atrocious odds for reinforcements to arrive. "Admiral Haines, this is Commander Douglas. Damn it's good to hear a friendly voice sir. When will you be starting your landing, would you like us to divert the enemy to support your landing?" There was a pause, and it was a pause that had Ian all of a sudden chilled to the bone. "Commander Douglas. The reserve fleet is being recalled." Ian couldn't believe what he was hearing, but before he could say anything the Admiral continued. "These orders come straight from the King. It appears that the Portuguese pulled have pulled one over on everyone. Their naval strength is three times what was assumed from the intel we were given by Zulu intel. That plus the fact that on the day of our landing, the Zulu High Chief was signing peace accords with the Portuguese Prime Minister. Commander. You are facing the whole of the Portuguese military. There is no support. The King himself is pushing for a peaceful solution, but the Portuguese are making demands that we just cannot meet." The Admiral paused for a moment, "Ian..." Ian was shocked at the Admiral's use of his first name. "...the Portuguese are demanding nuclear secrets in return for peace. You know that we cannot give them that. Ian was in shock. Not being able to meet demands was one thing, but the Portuguese were asking for the tools necessary to destroy cities at a whim. All of the arguments that he had hastily prepared were now gone. He knew that he and his men would be making the sacrifice, not just for the homeland, but for the entirety of the world. "Admiral" he finally spoke up "What are the orders sir?" The Admiral waited a moment before answering. "Well Commander, the King has ordered me to inform you that surrender may be the only option that will save you and your men. You may be tried, as the Commanding Officer, for war crimes, but your men should be safe. The other option is to hold out Commander. To the south the war against the Incans comes to a close. We have won victory commander, and the orders have already been cut for the first fleet to come on a rescue mission. Their new ships will be meeting them en route. The new Philadelphia class Battlecruisers will make short work of the Portuguese Navy. Give them two months Commander, and you may yet see another sunrise on American soil." Two months. Ian was speechless. But he knew his duty, and he knew that even in surrender his troops would suffer in some Portuguese prison. He knew what he had to do, "Admiral, tell the 1st to take their time. We will be waiting to throw out the red carpet when they arrive...

...As I am writing this missive, it has been almost two months of pure terror, mixed with movements of heart pounding adrenaline. Two of the NSO teams are gone, their survivors folding in to the two surviving teams to keep them at full strength, and the 6th is down to just over half of its compliment of men. But as our lookouts in the treetops have confirmed, the 1st Fleet is about two days out. A day ago we got scattered streams on the radio that sounded like SOS calls from ships. The radio operator said that there was most likely an engagement when the 1st tried to push past the Portuguese defenders. As we can see the fleet now though, they must have triumphed. A must close this letter now my sweet Mary. Although I have been writing as if all is well. My pen has been given to me by the unit medic, and I write this letter to you from the bed of our temporary field hospital. (tear drop on page) My leg is gone from the knee down. A cannon shell, we didn't even know they had cannons, fell in the trench from where I defended, and took the leg off clean at the knee. The medic said that I was lucky to even have survived the initial trauma, but I knew that I could not die without leaving you a telling of what had happened to the man that you loved. They are coming again, and this might be the last stand. The scouts report that it is a massed body of troops, and it looks as though they have new weapons as well. They are calling the wounded out and back to the defense line, so I know that I will not shame my company by laying in a bed while they die for King and Country. Know always my dearest Mary, that I love you. Do not cry for me, for I died doing what I believed in. I am sorry about only two things, the first is that I never was able to marry you. You are the love of my life Mary, please know that when I fall in battle today, that you will be the last thing I think of in this world. The second is that I will be breaking my promise, I am sorry that I cannot come home to you Mary. Please tell my mother and father that I love them, and tell my brother Joey to be good. Please help comfort them, as I know that they will help comfort you.

With All My Love,
Private First Class
Jack Richards

...That night the Portuguese came in force. They came from all sides and they used sheer weight of numbers to force themselves into the American trenches. The American defenders fell back further and further until they made their last stand in a group of about 30 men. Infantry and NSO forces intermixed with no care for who stood to their left or right, these men had already forged bonds that others could never imagine. To the last man they were gunned down. The last to fall, a gray haired man who fired a beautiful pistol even as he was struck by numerous bullets. The Portuguese army, knowing victory, but having seen glory fall before them, sent a message to the Americans. A peace was achieved that day. An unconditional ceasefire brought about by the courage of a battalion of men. As the Portuguese orderlies lifted bodies into body bags, one of them had a sheaf of paper fall from his pocket. Seeing the signature at the bottom, the orderly put the papers back with the body as they put him back in the bag. A letter to a loved one had no useful information within... and it would give someone their much needed closure.
 

No comments:

Post a Comment