Battle Earth III (9 page)

* * *

“Ma’am, is it correct that Captain Friday has been sent out over the top?” asked Yorath.

She nodded with a sullen and begrudging expression.

“Did his platoon get the Reitech gear issued?”

Chandra shook her head.

“What? They were sent out there with fuck all? No armour, no decent gear. Who the hell gave that order?”

She continued to look out into the ruined wastelands that stood between their lines and the enemy.

“This is yet more punishment isn’t it? Schulz can’t get over Major Taylor’s rescue mission?”

“I thought that much was clear weeks ago, Lieutenant,” she replied.

“Fuck sake. When is he going to start thinking like a soldier and not like a selfish bastard?”

She smiled. It amused her that the young officer was surprised at the General’s response.

“How could it ever have been any different, just because Taylor did the right thing? There are consequences to every action. Taylor knew that, as did we all. I will happily pay any price Schulz can levy at us, in knowing that we left no one behind.”

“If only I could get my hands on that bastard! Taylor should be running this army. We’d be half way across France by now.”

Chandra turned in surprise.

“Careful what you say, Lieutenant. Even the suggestion of such could be enough to warrant you a cell opposite the Major.”

“Fuck it, I don’t care anymore. We have done nothing but our very finest to fight this enemy. We have given everything, and Taylor more than anyone. How can anyone lock him away now? This army needs him!”

Chandra said nothing and continued to stare into the distance. The plain before them was largely flattened by the weeks of brutal combat. The twisted wrecks of armoured vehicles of both sides littered the ground and fallen burnt trees lay among them. Finally, she turned to Yorath with a smile.

“You’ve still got me, Lieutenant.”

* * *

Friday advanced cautiously across the uneven ground. The shelling of the area had created huge craters in the terrain. They made slow progress weaving in and out of debris and clambering up and over the ruined fields. The German engineer crews had already got to work behind them. They could make out other similar scouting parties far off in the distance.

“The General must be trying to advance the whole line,” whispered Silva.

“You didn’t think it was just us, did you?” replied Friday.

Silva smiled. They both assumed they’d been given a uniquely shit mission.

“Nice to know we aren’t the only ones on the shit list, hey?” Silva jested.

They continued onwards as ordered through the rubble of no man’s land until they could no longer see the other scouting parties on their flanks. The barren wasteland that had been the battleground for Ramstein was over two kilometres wide. The humans recovered their wounded where possible, but the Mechs seemed to care little for their casualties.

The bodies of the invaders were scattered across the ruined land amongst torn apart vehicles. The heavy artillery on either side had reduced much of what attempted to cross it to little more than shrapnel. A few metres away, Captain Friday could see a French soldier’s helmet and half of a weapon, but there was little sign of any body.

“Jesus, this place is like a fucking scrap yard,” whispered Silva.

The cool wind had carried away much of the foul stench that had inhabited the battlefield, but it couldn’t make the air fresh or barely more than tolerable. Silva could see a Mech that had been torn in half and bled out while still in its armour. Its blue blood had dried and hardened to an almost black oily texture.

The soldiers had been through hell, but never had they inhabited the same battlefield for such a prolonged period. They hadn’t ever had to awaken to the sight of sheer destruction every morning. Friday caught the sound of a craft darting across the sky, and he looked up in surprise to see a small plane flash across at high speed. He could just make out the shape as a Eurofighter XB. A split second later, an enemy fighter blasted past on its tail.

Friday and several of the other marines looked up to see the enemy fighter fire on the XB and blast it out of the sky. Just seconds later, the sky erupted with anti-aircraft fire and punched gaping holes in the enemy fighter. It plummeted to the ground in a burning rage. Friday shook his head in sadness. He knew the German plane would have been gathering essential information.

“You can’t doubt their courage,” said Silva.

Friday nodded in agreement. The air war had become an unusual occurrence in the last week, as if both sides had simply lost too many craft or pilots to keep up the effort.

“I guess it’s down to us to slug it out now, like we always have,” mused the Sergeant.

“Let’s move out,” replied Friday.

It was a sad sight to see one of their planes brought down. The Captain could already feel his platoon had taken a knock to their morale, which was already low since being ordered on their mission. Up ahead, they could see the forest growing nearer; they hadn’t got that near in weeks. They’d watched the tree lines with a keen eye every day, wondering what lay beyond them.

Friday was suspicious as they approached, more so than should be expected. He knew the enemy positions lay some way ahead, but the utter tranquillity made him nervous.

“Keep alert,” he whispered.

The platoon’s pace slowed as they closed the distance until they reached the rim of the forest. Friday was astonished they’d made it without incident, and a fact which made him all the more suspicious.

“Fan out, we hold here for twenty minutes.”

“Sir, aren’t we supposed to be scouting these woods?” asked Silva.

“Walking around until we find trouble? Fuck that, I’m not getting any of these troops killed because some General has a gripe.”

Silva smiled. He knew Friday always had their best interests at heart. The Captain was like the little brother of Major Taylor. He had all the strength, courage and leadership of their former leader. They lay in wait for the twenty minutes, but it felt more like half the day. Finally, Friday stood up and stretched his aching knees, leaning over to Silva.

“Pass the word. We head north along the forest edge, three metre spacing.”

A minute later, the platoon arose and continued their trek onwards. Just five minutes after they had set off, a volley of light pulses flashed through the trees to their west. Friday had just enough time to shout before the impacts struck.

“Incoming!”

Friday and Silva hit the ground as the first pulses erupted. The three above them burst with an ear-splitting explosion, sending foliage smashing down over their bodies. Friday’s head was smashed into the mud by the weight of a falling branch. Only his helmet and the soft ground saved him from being crushed.

He shrugged off the branch and turned in the mud to see the status of the platoon, as fire continued to rain down on their heads. He could make out the body of one dead private already, and could only imagine the injuries he couldn’t see from his position. He could hear screams of pain and calls for the medic running down the line, but they were going unanswered.

The Captain got up onto one knee while huddling behind a thick three trunk to get a better view of their surroundings. He could see at least a dozen Mechs firing on their position and knew there would be more closely behind. He turned back to Silva and bellowed his orders.

“Fall back. Fighting withdrawal!”

Silva nodded and quickly relayed the command at twice the volume the Captain could manage. The two men got to their feet and quickly returned fire with their weapons. The ineffectiveness of their old battle rifles was a painful experience after living Reiter’s weaponry. Friday hit one of the Mechs with eight shots to the faceplate but did not penetrate. He ducked back behind cover, firing another burst into the same target zone and finally broke through, killing the creature immediately.

Now in a standing position, he could fully see the damage around them. There was only one dead marine but five wounded.

“Get those wounded out of here now!”

Several of the platoon rushed to the aid of their fallen comrades, hauling them onto their shoulders and beating a hasty retreat. Friday turned back around to train his rifle on another target but realised that a pulse was soaring towards him.

“Captain!” shouted Silva.

It was too late. The pulse smashed into Friday’s chest and blew a hole through his torso. Silva could only watch in despair as the officer’s body went limp and tumbled to the ground. He watched for only a second and turned to the platoon, repeating the Captain’s orders. He rushed forward to Friday’s body. He prayed the Captain had survived, but he already knew there was no hope.

Smoke rose from Friday’s webbing where it had been burnt by the pulse. He turned the Captain over to see the last light in his eyes fade before he could get out his last words.

“Fuck!” Silva shouted.

He got up, hauling Friday’s body onto his shoulder as if it was nothing at all. His hatred of the enemy would not allow him to leave the body of their Captain at the mercy of the enemy. He turned and rushed from the scene at a jogging pace. As he ran, he could see a number of the marines turning and giving covering fire.

“Forget it! Run! Run!”

Seeing the body of their officer across Silva’s shoulders, they didn’t need much encouragement to follow their Sergeant in fleeing outright. They had done little that day and were full of energy. The platoon scarpered across the rough terrain of no man’s land, knowing their lives depended on it. After half a kilometre, the Sergeant finally stopped and looked back. He’d noticed the enemy guns had stopped firing. Corporal Hall rushed up beside Silva and turned to investigate what he was glaring at.

“They’ve stopped?” he asked.

“They know it’s suicide to cross those lines, just as we knew it.”

“Then why the fuck are we out here?”

Silva shook his head in astonishment.

“Two fine marines were thrown away because of one man’s attitude problem. I’ll be damned if I’ll let there be another.”

Hall nodded in agreement.

“This shit has got to end. We have to get back into the fight for real, and we need our gear back. We need our Major back!”

“What the hell is going on out there?” shouted Chandra.

The troops around her said nothing. They could all tell that the mission had gone sour. She stared out across the plain, looking with her binoculars for any sign of the platoon, but they had long ducked and weaved their way out of her sight. She spun around with a furious expression. Her heart was heavy, but she could only imagine at the losses.

“Major!” shouted Blinker.

The Private came frantically rushing across the tops of the trenches to reach Chandra.

“What is it, Private?”

“Ma’am, you’d better come with me.”

She stepped forward and grabbed the soldier back by the collar of his shirt, hauling him in close.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

Blinker gasped to find his words but could not answer. Monty arrived a few metres behind his brother, and Chandra turned her gaze to the soldier. She could see the same blank expression on the man’s face. She released her grasp and looked at their bleak pale faces.

“Please, Major, come with us,” whispered Blinker.

She knew it was not the time to press the two brothers. Chandra nodded in agreement.

“Alright, lead on.”

The Major knew that whatever she was about to witness was not good news, but she tried not to jump to any conclusions. Ten minutes later they reached a troop staging area just a hundred metres from the front line trenches. She recognised a few of Friday’s platoon, but the Captain was nowhere to be seen. The two brothers led her on through a mix of allied troops into an opening where a doctor was overseeing a wounded marine being taken off on a stretcher.

Blinker turned and continued onwards. The wounded man was clearly not what he was bringing her for. Then she saw it, the bodies of two marines laid out flat on the ground. Sergeant Silva was sitting on an ammunition box a couple of metres away with his head in his hands. She looked down at the bodies and instantly recognised Friday, but she didn’t want to believe it. Chandra took a few paces closer so she could get a better look at the face to be certain.

She shook her head as she realised beyond any doubt that it was Captain Friday. A gaping hole had been torn through his chest. The light armour they wore had done little to slow the path of the energy pulse. Little blood seeped from the Captain’s body due to the immense heat at which the round had struck. It was clear to her that he had died within seconds.

The sight of Friday’s body reminded her of her own mortality. She had thrown herself into the most brutal and prolonged combat with little care in the world. Now she was starting to appreciate life more. She looked at the faces of the troops around her. Many stared in astonishment that the Captain had fallen, and others looked away and hoped to forget. She had known Friday long enough to consider him a good friend, but it was clear that to the marines he was far more than that.

“Taylor should know,” said Monty.

Chandra nodded. She already knew that the news would be monumentally tragic to Taylor who was closer to Friday than any of them. Having lost Jones in Amiens, she knew to some extent how he would feel. But at least at that time she still had some hope of Jones’ survival; there was no coming back for Friday.

“You think this will be enough to warrant a pass to see the Major?” asked Blinker.

“It’s sad to think that’s what it could take, but you might be right,” she fumed.

She stepped over and knelt beside Silva who looked more lost than the rest. He was an astonishingly tough and capable man, but it had been too much to bear. As she lowered herself down onto one knee, he looked up at her with a distraught expression.

“He didn’t stand a chance,” muttered Silva.

“You were ordered out there alone? No support? No armour?” she asked.

Silva nodded as he came close to tears.

“You did right by your platoon, Sergeant. You got them out,” she whispered.

“When will it all end, Major? How many friends do we have to lose?”

Chandra shook her head. It was a question she had been asking herself since a few days after the war had begun. Death and dismemberment had become a part of their everyday lives, but it never got any easier to accept.

“We may be asked to give all of our lives before this is over, Sergeant. Would that be so bad? Us dying, in place of those who cannot fight for themselves, and the millions who do not stand a chance against these creatures.”

She could see that Silva was starting to see some sense. He looked up to see the platoon was at an all time low point, and that they all looked to him.

“Look at the good we have done. How many of those bastards have we killed and left in our wake? Together, we cannot be stopped. We are the Immortals, and remember that. Remember how many soldiers rely on us for inspiration.”

Silva nodded. He knew in his heart that the Major was right. He knew he was the one who should be giving such words of encouragement to the demoralised platoon. He could see that their shell shock and depression was already starting to rub off on the other members of the Company around them. He leaned in closer to the Major.

“We are stronger together. Get Taylor back,” he whispered.

Silva leaned back and stood up with a newfound confidence and strength. He drew in a deep breath to bellow his words to the demoralised marines. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by a vehicle’s horn blaring as the driver made his way through the surrounding troops. He looked to identify the incoming vehicle that was clearly trying to reach them with some urgency.

As the troops scattered, and the vehicle came in to view, they could make out the HQ stencils and realised that General Schulz sat in the back.

“Fuck,” muttered Silva under his breath.

Chandra’s back straightened as she saw the General she resented so much. He sat confidently in the back of the vehicle, as if to be welcomed and celebrated by the front line troops he had been sending to their deaths. He peered around at the joint allied units in surprise at the cold response he was getting. The jeep pulled up just a few metres from Chandra and the body of Captain Friday that still lay uncovered.

Schulz stepped out from his vehicle and looked around at the stone cold faces around them. He looked down to see the dead Captain and the horrific chest wound which was on display for all to see. He made a quick scan of the pips of his uniform that marked Friday out as an officer.

“Major! Why has the body of this Captain not been covered?”

Schulz’s tone was arrogant and lacked any understanding of the situation. Chandra did not respond, knowing she could do little to make him change his mind. Schulz turned to the nearest marine.

“You, find something to cover the body of this officer, immediately!”

The marine hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure whether to carry out the order or not. The very possibility of such infuriated the General.

“Now, Private!”

“Hold that order!” bellowed Chandra.

Schulz’s piercing eyes turned on the Major. He was taken aback by her comments, even more than the Private’s hesitation to carry out his orders. It left him so speechless that Chandra seized the opportunity to carry on before he could condemn her.

“Captain Friday is one of our own. He has been with us through the worst of this war, and he is not left there out of ill discipline or idleness. He is there for all to see and pay their respects. As you are well aware, General, there is little time for proper burials in this life anymore. This is the only time we have to pay our final respects.”

The General’s expression did not change, but he slowly breathed out and calmed himself. He looked around at the faces of the troops. He could tell that many had been with Friday when he was killed, and they looked down on the General with disgust that he would try and interfere.

Chandra knew the General had put Friday and his men in harm’s way. The rest of the troops did too, but they all knew it was not wise to anger the General. She could hear Silva’s knuckles crunch as he clenched his fists. He wanted to strike the General more than any of them, but he didn’t move a millimetre. Schulz coughed and cleared his throat. He had quickly realised it was not the time or place to risk angering the already distraught troops. He was also well aware that soldiers from many armies were watching. They were eyes and ears that could lead to his downfall if he made the wrong move.

Major Chandra could tell that Schulz’s arrogance had led him into a vulnerable position, and it was one that she was all too ready to take advantage of. She stepped forward and squared off against the General. Her body language could have been read as either respectful or challenging, and she revelled in the fact that he could not tell which.

“Sir, Captain Friday was a brave and competent officer in my Company, and whose actions have saved the lives of many. He was selfless in life, and loyal and honest to the end. Friday was a marine under the direct command of Major Taylor, as well as a very close friend. As the commanding officer of both men, I request a visitation to Major Taylor in order to pass on this tragic news.”

She could see the fury in Schulz’s eyes. The German General hated the insolence he had witnessed with the Inter-Allied Company that she led. Yet he had no choice but to accept her presence whilst she remained a competent and honest officer. He had done his utmost to keep Taylor isolated from any of the personnel he had served with. Schulz had already realised that few who came into contact with the Major would not be sympathetic to his situation and actions.

Schulz turned slowly in a full circle and looked for some indication of what to do. Chandra could tell he was not looking out of concern for the troops, but to find out how he could come off best in the situation. Most of the soldiers glared at him. They despised Schulz for taking Taylor away from them, and not one of them accepted that Taylor had done a thing wrong. Even more so, they hated Schulz for abandoning POWs.

The General nodded as he turned. He was quickly realising that he had to do something to alleviate the situation. The anger and hatred surrounding him made him wonder if the marines would set on him if he didn’t say what they wanted to hear. He licked his lips and readied himself to speak loudly and clearly. Schulz wanted to come off as the hero, but it rarely worked.

“I am deeply saddened by the loss of your Captain...”

“Friday,” muttered Silva.

Schulz turned and nodded at the Sergeant, as if thanking him. Silva was well aware that Schulz didn’t appreciated being interrupted, but he could do little in response without losing the respect of everyone present.

“Captain Friday was a good soldier and a good man. He has fought to defend lands that were not his and helped save the lives of millions of civilians who he had never known. We are thankful for his service and his sacrifice. May we all be remembered for such great deeds and unwavering gallantry.”

Chandra looked down in disgust.
Bastard, he doesn’t give a shit,
she thought. Schulz stopped and looked to the troops to judge their reaction. They didn’t look impressed, and he knew he had to give them more if he was to come off well in the situation. Chandra once again seized the moment.

“Sir, the one thing Friday would want more than anything would have been to know that Major Taylor is alright. This news will hit Taylor hard. May I again request permission to see the Major and relay this news?”

Schulz smirked just a little as he thought about how he had been played by Chandra. She had chosen her moment well, and it was clear that he couldn’t refuse her without having a detrimental effect on all those around them, and perhaps the armies at large. Chandra revelled for just a moment in how she had managed to manipulate. Her smile faded as she thought about the Captain who had so recently fallen. Schulz finally nodded in agreement.

“Very well. Captain Friday gave his life in the service of this army, and you may carry that news to Major Taylor. Send my deepest sympathies for the loss of his friend.”

The Major watched as Schulz made a final scan of the troops. He was desperately looking for any sign of respect, but it was barely in evidence. He could tell he had narrowly missed all out violence.
Now piss off
, thought Chandra. Finally, the General stepped back into his vehicle, and many of the troops watched in disgust as his driver pulled away. They looked back down to the body of Friday and the other marine. Medical orderlies waited to take the bodies away but were loathed to interfere.

“Alright, that’s enough! Captain Friday is gone, and another fine soldier taken from us in this war. He was exceptional in life and will remain so in our memories long after death. We have a war to fight. Friday knew that, so let’s get on with it!”

She nodded for the medics to come forward and spirit the bodies away. She could already hear the mutinous mutterings from a number of the marines who had been with Friday on his mission. They all knew that his death had been a direct result of Taylor’s rescue mission.

“How the fuck can this go on?” asked Hall. “We came here to help, and we’re getting fucked over because some General was made to look an idiot!”

“Careful, Corporal. You are under the General’s command, and you must show him respect.”