In Defiance to the Lion
Dear Elzie.
I’m terribly sorry, that I have not written to you in quite some time. I hope you’re still employed in the factory, and that your occupation has not yet become eligible for drafting. Because the life in the trenches is not a life I wish upon anyone. We have about three or four days out of them and eight or nine in them. When we are out supposed to be resting, we have to go on working parties, digging graves or trenches, build fortifications, and any work needed. And no matter were we are, we are always under shell fire, so not much of rest anyway. Every day we can see more of their ships descending from the sky. If the other fronts are anything like ours, I fear that if the flowers of peace will ever be planted, it will be in soil spoiled by sulphur and blood. Lately the fighting has been incessant , the dead lay beyond our trenches, their extremities convulsively raised and contorted towards the sky like a dead forest. We wear our respirators almost constantly because of the awful smell of the dead. I’ll never get these sights out of my eyes, it will be an everlasting nightmare. If I live to come home, I’ll try to tell you all about it, because I cannot possibly express it in writing as words fail me. The things are indescribable.
Your loving Brother
Vurian
Carsius Prime, (Centarus Arm Sge Vul Quadrant).
Field Marshal Johannes Thorsson stood at the edge of the battle map, its flickering display painting him in shades of zircon and crimson. The lines of the front carved out of the landscape like scars. Sinuous and irregular their bulwarks extending seemingly without end in all directions but one, marking the frontline across the blasted terrain. The Cereus 62nd army group had bled to hold their current ground, but the time for stalemate had passed. Now, the order had come the 62nd had to pierce through to Lankensorn, force a spear through the ramparts and give the northern and eastern circumvallating forces a window to reconstitute and hopefully create their own breaches into the invaders lines. And tighten the noose further around the enemy forces bridgehead near Vergemler Steep. Captain Astrid Falkenholm of J Company, 105th Ranger Battalion, approached with a brisk salute. She bore the drawn look of an officer who had spent weeks in the rain and mud, her once pristine uniform torn and stained with the grime of the trenches. Yet her eyes, still sharp as a predator’s, met the Field Marshal’s, with resolve.
-“My lord Thorsson,” she began, her voice steady but taut with restrained frustration.
-“Our scouts report the enemies have taken up additional positions on the Turmund Ridge and dug them self in deep. fortifications, earthworks, and heavy mortar positions. Our preliminary bombardments barely scratched them.”
Thorsson nodded, his expression as immovable as a stubborn ox.
-“Ja. They are resourceful, got to give them that Falkenholm. And damn hard to dislodge once they manage to get them self's a footing. But we have to take the ridge!”
Astrid hesitated, her hands clenching behind her back.
-“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
-“You may.”
-”The dead and wounded from yesterdays assault are still trickling down through our trenches towards the surgical FOB’s, I estimate about 35 000 casualities, I had to send parts of my company to assist with prioritisations and first aid ”
-“We cannot repeat the failure at Harald’s Gate. If we march up that ridge head-on, the men will die in droves. Their forces have stood stalwart against all our attacks and they quickly adapt. Their incursions more precise and their counter attacks more ferocious. If we commit to yet a another massive direct assault, I fear we will lose more than men, we will lose hope in our ranks”
Thorsson raised a hand, silencing her without ire.
-”I know, that you know, just as well as I do ,that our ongoing efforts and relentless attacks are not solely to try and gain ground and push their lines further back. We can give them no respite, no room to concentrate their forces. ”
Astrid felt a sharp cold wave of embarrassment and shame wash over her, she tensed her jaw as she fought back a blush creeping up her neck.
The Field marshal walked over to one of the reinforced viewing ports of the command bunker and stared up at the low thick cloud cover that concealed the sky.
-“I hope you don’t think, I do not see, Falkenhom? That you believe I would throw away our sons and daughters in a fool’s gambit?”
His voice, though calm, carried the unmistakable reverb of a commander who mourn every soldier lost under their command.
-“Do not mistake necessary orders for callousness or blindness.”
Astrid’s hands fell to her sides and she slightly leaned forward as she, with a hint remorse in her tone, interjected.
-”Forgive me My Lord, I choose my words poorly if they led you to believe, that the intent behind them was to convey any doubt in the motivations behind your orders and decisions. I only”
Thorsson turned and faced Astrid, his expression harbouring signs of a smile
-”Any one of sane mind would question the fact that so many are sacrificed for so seemingly little ground. I can not fault you for this ”
-”However we should count the stars for our luck, that we managed to force this conflict into one of static warfare and containment for as long as we have.”
-“The Turmund Ridge will not fall to brute strength alone.”
-”What I’m about to tell you is a warning order, I trust you with this information because you and your men will be asked to play a crucial role in the coming weeks, and you will need time to prepare.”
He gestured to the map, where new symbols flickered into place, markers of hidden mine entrances and forgotten tunnels revealed by scouting parties.
-“Our forward engineers have found remnants of an ancient mining network beneath the ridge. The Lions men , for all their ingenuity, seem to be unaware of what lies below them. We shall use these tunnels to place charges beneath them.”
Astrids’s brow furrowed.
-“A calculated risk, my lord. If the enemy discovers us?”
-“They will not,” Torsson interrupted, his voice ironclad.
-”I have personally overseen the selection of the men for the saboteur groups, once the charges are detonated we will unleash a cavalcade of violence, sung in by the roar of a million artillery shells! ”
Thorsson’s eyes rested for a moment on the piercing gaze of Falkenholm.
-”I need J Company to, get across no man's land, unseen. Lay in wait, just out of range of our artillery, just beyond Hill 275. Once our artillery barrage begins, there will be a 5 minutes countdown, then Hill 275 will be excluded form the barrage. This will be your window to seize or destroy the mortars and machine gun positions on that hill. If J company manages to hold Hill 275 during the main assault, you will create a thin gap beyond Stumblers Hill and along Bloods Creek, for the 15th Asanders Brigade and the 6th Mechanised Division to approach and assault Turmund Ridge from, with significantly reduced estimated casualties.”
He paused for a moment placed his hands on the edge of the strategical planning table and lowered his head.
-”Once you have taken the hill; Your main objective is to hold it and restrict the enemies ability to pin down the 6th Mechanised and the 15th Asanders Brigade. And if you do manage to capture any offensive equipment, I want you to try and create as much havoc within their lines as possible. But, and I mean this, Do not proceed any further or join the rest of the assault. There will be 2 Mechanised Divisions and 12 infantry brigades participating in this operation. You are my surgical instruments don’t let the tide of violence dull your edges. I have plenty of hammers and rocks, but few sharp knifes.”
She raised her right hand to her right eyebrow and in an almost mechanical movement, and saluted.
-“I will see to the men”, Astrid exclaimed with a stringent voice
Thorsson nodded and haphazardly saluted back and added,
-”Let me know if there is anything you will need.”
Astrid turned, and with rejuvenated seal left the command bunker.
Field Marshal Johannes Thorsson sat down to review the latest situation reports from the other theatres. He had been there, when the envoy had addressed the planetary council. The Envoy had spoken about unification, threat of human annihilation from aliens, and the divinity of their king, the Lion. All lies he was sure of it. When subjugation had been refused, their planetfall had been almost immediate. Johannes remembered being surprised at how the worlds regions, seemingly in a single breath, had managed forget all past squabbles and scramble their forces in a united effort try to contain the invaders. That was four years ago, an still no end to the war in sight. He did not want to admit it to himself but deep down, a kernel of doubt had sprung root. At this point it was impossible that the forces and resupplies making daily planetfall would not be reinforcements from a main force. Even so, how the expeditionary contingent could have sustained such warfare for such an extended period eluded his comprehension.
Was there any validity to the claims the envoy had made? , he thought to himself. Before quickly suppressing his doubts.
-”They might have pushed this dog in to a corner, but they will soon become acutely aware of just how hard it can bite.” Thorsson said under his breath.
As Astrid made her way through the meandering trenches she was halted by a procession of wounded, slowly making their way back towards the forward surgical field hospital
solemnly she moved through the swaying and limping mass, it’s repeating ebbs and flows agitated only by the the occasional stretcher bearer teams frantic movements.
On her way though the procession towards one of the non arterial trench systems, she came a upon a small statued figure sitting towards the mud wall of the trench. His arm and hand stretched out as if he was waiting on someone to grab it.
Astrid’s purposivety normally unwavering, yielded. She took the grasping hand in hers, letting it rest as if it was a wounded dove in the palm of her hand. Slowly the head of the small statued figure rose. Revealing the mutilated face of a very young man. Both his eyes shot through, their torn remains now mixed with eyelashes and skin
-”I’ lost my way, can you help me?”
The boy asked calmly
Astrid could see the markings left by the medic, “why had he been deemed ‘will not survive’ ”she thought to her self.
-“ it’ts alright, son”
-“I… I can’t see, Ma’am, Wi wi will, I need an operation”
-”Poor boy, he doesn’t know he never will” she thought to her self.
From the far end of the trench section a large soldier carrying two large ammunition cases hastily rounded the corner , his steps teetering on running and leaning forward as if each step stopped him from falling over.
Astrid threw out her free arm and grabbed him by his shoulder.
His momentum almost pulling Astrid with him, as he tried to stop without losing his balance.
The soldier turned towards Astrid with an exasperate expression, that slowly turned into one of surprise.
-“Take this man to the forward surgical field hospital, and make sure he gets treated!”
The large soldier looked at the wounded man, then back at Astrid. His gaze began rapidly shifting in an erratic pattern betraying the struggle between the thoughts in his head. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, Astrid cut him off.
-”I understand, you already have orders. That's self evident, unless you are running around with ammunition cases for fun. If the field hospital is further away than where ever you are going with those boxes, then drop them of on the way.”
-”Yes ma’am, ” the soldier replied sheepishly.
The soldier moved the Ammunition box from his left hand to under his right arm, and leaned down towards the wounded young man.
-“I’m Thomas, you want to come with me? I’ll take you to the medics , and they can get you patched up. ” He asked with a soft voice.
The wounded soldier nodded.
And as and Astrid and Thomas helped him up he said:
-“I’m Bernard, but my buddies call me Nard.”
The two men slowly made their along the trench.
-”Why do they call you Nard?” Thomas asked.
-”One time our Sergeant, got so mad at me, he forgot the first part of my name when he yelled at me. I guess it sort of stuck.”
-”What did you do to get your sarge so mad?”
The two rounded the corner of the south end of the trench, Astrid stood still for a moment longer trying to hear the reply, but they were now to far away for her to hear much more than the melody of their speech on top of the wind, distant rumbling of engines and artillery.
There was an aura of unease in the company command post. They were all waiting, waiting on a specific date and time. But no one knew which time or day they where waiting on. J Company had now gone over their battle plans multiple times a day. They had made contingency plans for seemingly every possible situation and drilled every last scenario almost to the point of absurdity.
Astrid observed the member of her staff, some where pacing the room, or continually shifting in their chairs, others picked their nails or at some small piece of scab on their hands. Every one showed signs of being anxious, all except Private Julian Baumhauer. Built like an Oak and often just as stoic, that man could fall a sleep just about anytime, anywhere. Astrid would be lying if she didn’t say she was at least a little jealous of him. An hour earlier Astrid had been given the final order, in about 34 hours they were expected to be in position just beneath Hill 275. She had not told the rest of the company or her subordinates, she wanted them to get the opportunity to have tonight's supper with relative piece of mind. Astrid got up, and walked over to the small stove in the corner of the room to refill her coffee mug.
She slowly turned towards the room, while blowing on the coffee and carefully testing the heat with her lips.
Between her breaths as she continued blowing on the coffee, she announced to the room;
-”In 15 minutes I want every Platoon and squad leader in here for orders, and before you ask. Yes! we’re doing this thing.”
The previous feeling of unease filling the room was quickly replaced by a sense of duty, and the commotion people moving with purpose.
Astrid stood still, slowly drinking her coffee as the chaos around her slowly settled into order. Eventually the only movement in the room was her arm as she moved the mug to and from her lips, in front of her stood 35 officers in silent anticipation. She sat the mug aside and pulled back the sleeve on her left arm with her middle- and ring finger, revealing her watch. Astrid’s eyes focused on the watch face for a moment before her eyes started trailing the second hand.
-”The time is 17:32.15 now…… 17.32. 25 …….. now ”
Everyone in the room quickly turned their gaze from Astrid to their respective watches, as they continued to listen to her declaring the time.
Astrid Continued;
-“17:32. 40 …… now, 17:33. 00 ……. Now. Does any one need additional time giving or are we all synced?”
-”Good!”
-” As you all know, we have been tasked with taking Hill 275, Our assault plays crucial part for the success of Operation Spetum. I was informed that our Field Marshal decided on that name earlier this week, quite fitting in my opinion”
The listeners nodded in agreement.
-”Now, The enemy holds Hill 275, from now referred to as THE HILL, They are entrenched and have multiple fortified, short range artillery positions and Machine gun nests. Enemy strength is estimated to be company sized. Possibly a dedicated communications platoon as well, either on, or in very close proximity to THE HILL. It’s imperative that we cut any communication lines and capture any radio equipment. The trench systems just to the North and south of THE HILL are fortunately for us not directly connected with the entrenchments on THE HILL due to the steepness of its sides. There are however two Trenches leading up the hill from the east, or from behind THE HILL. These will be referred to as INDEX and MIDDLE, and we need to get a vantage point over these as soon as possible, once we have established our presence. Our Company’s main objective is to open up a safe gap along Bloods Creek for the forces storming Turmund Ridge to approach through. Us holding THE HILL will not completely remove the enemies ability to fire down Bloods Creek, but it will no longer be a shooting gallery. This means we will need to engage down into the trench systems and other firing positions, from our position. Hopefully with captured artillery. Once the main spearhead of our forces, that will be barrelling right into the centre of the enemy frontlines, has breached the second line of trenches. We will change our focus to give them supporting fire. If we are unable to hold The HILL ,we are to destroy as much of their equipment as possible and hinder their ability to utilize the position.”
-”Now for some specifics. We depart tomorrow evening once the sun has set”
-“Our approach will be veiled by the storm that is expected to hit tomorrow evening, with a little luck it will begin just after dark, giving us extra time to move slowly and hidden through the night. Then at 4:30 we have to be in position just beneath THE HILL. Once the first salvo of our artillery barrage is fired, the countdown begins. FIVE minutes, then our objective will be excluded from the barrage.
The rest of the barrage will continue for another 35 minutes, before switching over to a creeping barrage, marking the start of the main assault. This will give us a 35 minute window take the THE HILL. The quicker and quieter we can seize it, the greater the chance that we can await the approach of the main assault in relative peace.”
-”Questions?”
A single hand rose form the group.
-”Yes!”, Astrid said while nodding in the direction lieutenant with the raised hand.
-” Will there be radio silence through out the, entirety of the operation?”, the lieutenant asked with a short brisk tone.
-”Until we can be sure that they are aware of our presence, we will hold radio silence. Any communication between platoons will have to be done with runners in the meantime, if absolutely necessary. Any communication back to HQ will be done with RCP-Drones.”
Astrid scanned the room looking for any other raised hands or facial expressions that conveyed confusion.
-”If there are no other questions, You are all dismissed. Now go and make sure the men are ready for tomorrow.”
A loud CLACK rang out as every pair of boots in the room smacked together in unison. Then the crowd of officers dispersed and left the room, synchronized like a flock of swimming ducks entering a lake from a narrow stream.
The next day evening, there was a bustling through out the trench systems. Every soldier, platoon and company seemed to have very pressing orders to attend to, and preparations to make.
J Company however stood as a cohesive unit, just waiting. For the last half hour the wind had been steadily picking up, and even thicker and darker clouds slowly moved in over the battlefield.
The winds were blowing perpendicular to the trench in which, J Company was waiting, insulating them from the biting chill of the wind. But it howled at them as it passed over the trench.
As every shadow grew with the setting of the sun, so did they dim. The cloud cover was so thick, that as the horizon still shifted through the colours of fire and blood. The ground had already been painted with the darkest of ink.
A hand was raised, and the Company proceeded to exit the trench in six columns. Through the night they battled the biting wind and occasional hail as they slowly made their way over the ravaged landscape, filled with wreckages, deep craters, pieces of barbed wire, and the torn bodies of those who had found their final resting place violently and sudden.
Some craters were so deep that they had to climb up their edges in pairs. The closer they got to the hill the slower they had to move, eventually resorting to crawling. Because the temperature had crept so low that the mud began to freeze making the ground crackle under their boots. Although the wind was still blowing so ferociously that all but the loudest of screams would be drowned out. They did not dare, risk a sudden lull in the storm betraying their approach.
Astrid’s entire body ached from the strain and cold. The cold steel on her rifle burning her chin as she tried resting her neck in between shuffles, as she crawled under a group of fallen logs. As she cleared the last log and looked up, their objective suddenly loomed over her barely visible in the dim light from the enemy encampments scattered and reflected against the low clouds and thin fog.
She looked back and quietly said to her platoon deputy.
-”We’re here, tell the men to get them self in to position and ready. We are quite early so if they need some rest, now would be the time to try and get some.”
Grouped together in their platoons all of J Company, laid pressed against a half frozen mudbank, concealed from the Lion’s forces and shielded from the worst of the weather.
In an instance the horizon behind them lit up as if the clouds had ignited. Then came the roar, indescribably loud the hail of artillery fire came raining down all along the frontline. Plumes of mud, stone and fire spewed up like erupting volcanos. The explosions ripping apart the ground and and setting fortifications a blaze. In between the near constant and deafening explosions the screams of the next incoming shells was all that could be heard.
Private Wilkes, adjusted the strap of his helmet and clutched his rifle. He could feel his heart pounding, the thump in his chest almost visible through his uniform jacket. Just Beside him, Sergeant Lewis checked his wristwatch. The older man’s expression of grim determination, reinforced by his heavily scarred face.
-”Two minutes ” Lewis growled, his voice rough like gravel.
Wilkes looked down along the mudbank most of the platoons were sporadically visible to as the fire raining down, illuminated the landscape. He could see their Company commander Capitan Falkenholm crouched down and looking just as intently at her wristwatch as his Sergeant.
-”Thirty Seconds”
Everyone shifted around and secured their footing, leaned up towards the edge of the bank and stood in a stance reminiscent of a predator ready to pounce.
-”Ten seconds.. seven, six ……. four, three, two”
”Move! Move! Move!” Astrid barked as the barrage crept away from the THE HILL. The men leaped over the edge of the bank, weapons ready.
The climb was brutal from the outset. The ground was a morass of half frozen mud, jagged rocks and boulders . And the wind carried flakes of razor sharp snow, that cut in to their faces. The first obstacle was the barbed wire, stretched in stacked lines across the slope. Explosions from the barrage had torn gaps in some places, but in others, the wire remained intact, a deadly barrier.
”Wire cutters, up front!” Sergeant Lewis shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Corporal Larsen darted forward, his hands working frantically as he snipped at the wire. The sharp twang of severed strands was drowned out by the barrage still hammering all along the front. As Lewis and the men of his platoon made their way through the rows of barbed wire, other parts of the company had, had better luck with the artillery clearing their paths. And some of them where already half way up the slope and had began fanning out. Just as Lewis got clear of the barbed wire, he could see that Falkenholm had stopped about half way up The Hill and was frantically signalling with her hands. A runner came stumbling down towards them, sliding and hopping down the muddy hill side.
-”There are firing positions in the hill side! They have dug out, the whole hill might have tunnels,Captain wants your and 5th platoon to breach and clear from the inside while the rest of us continue clear THE HILL from the top! ”. The runner exclaimed while trying to catch his breath
Sergeant Lewis nodded and turned to his platoon.
-”Alright boys, looks like we are going caving, on me!” Sergeant Lewis said with his raspy voice.
Just as Astrid turned to continue the ascend there was a crack followed by the zip of bullets as a machine guns opened fire.
”Down! Find cover!” Astrid bellowed.
She threw herself into a shell crater as a burst of fire kicked up dirt near her face. She dared a glance over the edge, spotting the muzzle flashes from a machine gun nest partially concealed behind sandbags.
-”Baumhauer!” Astrid yelled. “Take it out!”
Private Julian Baumhauer, nodded grimly. Clutching a grenade, he dashed forward , darting between cover, the machine gun crackling as it tracked him. A round clipped his thigh, and he stumbled but didn’t stop. With a roar, he hurled the grenade into the nest before collapsing behind a boulder. The explosion sent debris and bodies flying, silencing the gun.
-”Push on!” Astrid screamed.
As they advanced, they encountered the first artillery position: a pair of short-barreled howitzers nestled together in a concrete emplacement. The gunners, stunned by the barrage and the sudden appearance of infantry, reached for their rifles too late. On top of the Hill there was obvious signs of confusion among the enemy. Some were running to re-man their positions, while others frantically tried to get in side of their bunker entrances again to respond to the fighting now raging inside their tunnels. In the chaos and confusion a moment of respite appeared for Astrid, to survey the situation.
-”Fuck. Matthews! Where’s Baumhauer?” Astrid shouted while hastily looking back and forth over the parapet surrounding the artillery position.
-”He got hit while clearing the machine gun position Ma’am, Forseti is tending to him they’re still on the hill side.” Mathews replied.
-”This is taking to long, we need to cut off those who have managed to get them self into defensible positions from reinforcements. And force the rest of them into the bunker system. By the sounds of it 2nd and 5th are wreaking havoc down there. Any one trying to escape we can cut down by setting up firing positions there and there. Two machine gun groups would be able to hold those entrances. That will free up most of 3rd ,4th and 6th can set up defensive positions looking over INDEX and MIDDLE.”
-”Yes Ma’am ”
-”Wilkes, On me! Get this thing loaded!”
Wilkes scrambled to help Lewis in the dimly lit corridor, his hands trembling as he armed and shoved a shell into the breech of the Sergeants shoulder fired grenade rifle. The gun roared, its shell slamming a hole through the wall as the round obliterated the hastily constructed machine gun position, at the far en of the corridor, in a spray of smoke and shrapnel.
The defenders firing desperately to hold the line. Machine guns roaring, rifle fire snapped and ricochets bouncing of walls with high pitched tangs, around the advancing men. The final push was a bloody and grueling melee. Eventually the intensity of the fighting gradually died down, the further up the bunker system they came. The sustained adrenaline secretion and stress had Wilkes in tears as he forced his trembling body past yet another corner. A bullet whizzed past his head and he threw him self on the ground. A familiar voice shouted in the distance
-”Wilkes! Is that you?”
-”Yes! It’s me. Hold your fire”, he replied with a trembling voice.
-”You bastards, you made it!”, the voice replied
-”Now get up here, The main act is about to begin.”
Wilkes collected him self and got up of the bloodstained concrete floor. His Sergeant, Sergeant Lewis padded him on his shoulder as the remainder of 2nd Platoon made their way up the stairs.
Hill 275 was now firmly in the hands of J Company, yet the battle was just about to begin.
