Taylor couldn’t take it any longer. He’d longed to have someone to talk to, but Dupont was the last person he had in mind. He wondered if he’d ever get out of his cell, of if he’d be left to the mercy of the enemy like Jones was.
“General Schulz requested that you be officially informed of your status.”
“What status? You’re leaving me here to rot when there is a war to fight!”
Dupont smiled, turned and walked away from the Major. It infuriated Taylor that he still knew nothing more about his comrades. Dupont isn’t a real soldier. He’d understand if he was, thought Taylor. He suddenly became overwhelmed by the thought of being left to the enemy. The gaunt body of Jones, and the empty look in his eyes, were burnt into Taylor’s mind. He leapt to his feet and thrashed himself against the bars.
“Don’t leave me down here, General! You need me!” he yelled.
He could just see the back of the General and the guards as they continued to walk away, as if they had not even heard him. He smashed his hands against the cell bars in a desperate attempt get their attention, but it made little difference.
“Fuck!” he screamed.
Taylor knew that Dupont and Schulz were bastards, but he never imagined they would be so evil. Schulz is going to ruin the Company. God help them if any harm comes to Chandra and the others. He paced back to his bed and slumped down onto the hard and uncomfortable mattress. He felt utterly lost. Being locked up was bad enough, but knowing his friends were being led by such murderous bastards was too much to bear. This can’t go on forever, I have to get out!
“Have you seen these co-ordinates, Captain?” asked Silva.
Friday looked up with a grim expression. He knew exactly the meaning of the Sergeant’s query.
“We have our orders, Sergeant.”
Silva took several quick steps to come up beside the Captain and out of earshot of the platoon who were checking and readying their equipment.
“A scouting party three clicks east for an engineering company to get to work, and two clicks back. We might as well walk towards their guns.”
“Dupont wants us to start gaining ground and moving our positions forward. They will work under the cover of the main lines while we are there to give a heads up in case of any trouble.”
“Sir, a few dozen of us with this old kit in no man’s land. Tell me that isn’t suicidal. Tell me this isn’t a death sentence to punish us.”
Friday knew that the Sergeant was right, but he also knew there was little to be done about it.
“What am I to do? We follow the chain of command.”
“Major Taylor didn’t,” snapped Silva.
“And look where it got him.”
Friday sighed. He hated his current position.
“Look, I am not saying what the Major did was wrong. I would have done the same in a heartbeat, but if we want to get him back, we need to pave the road for his return. Schulz is not beyond punishing all of us for a single deed.”
Silva spat on the ground beside him. He was utterly disgusted by their leaders.
“Why the fuck are we fighting for such assholes?”
Friday continued to check his weapon over and answer the question as the Sergeant became angrier. His heavy breathing over the Captain finally forced Friday to look up and answer.
“We aren’t fighting for them, Sergeant. We are fighting for ourselves, and for each other and every poor bastard on this world who can’t fight for themselves. The masses wouldn’t stand a chance. So we have to deal with obnoxious Generals. How is that any different to any other period in our history? There are some damn fine officers in this army and some damn bad ones.”
“Army, thought we were marines, Sir?”
“We are whatever we need to be. We live in the most uncertain times that anyone has ever known. We can keep fighting against each other, or we can move forward to take the fight to the invaders. The time will come when the brass will remember how much they need Taylor.”
Silva nodded as he took in what the Captain was saying. He had let his anger over the Major’s detainment cloud his judgement and deter him from the tasks at hand. Friday could see in Silva’s face that the Sergeant was beginning to come to his senses.
“You have been the best NCO I have had the pleasure of serving with, Sergeant. Your cool headedness and efficiency has kept us alive through the worst of it. Stay the course. Do exactly as you have been doing, and we’ll be fine, as will the Major.”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied.
Friday could see some relief in the Sergeant’s face. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he had calmed substantially. Friday was just as frustrated at the Major’s imprisonment as any of them. They had been best of friends from just a few months after enlistment. A German soldier rushed up and stopped to speak with the Captain.
“Sir, the engineers are ready to move forward, ready when you are.”
Friday turned to Silva.
“Be sure the platoon is ready to leave, Sergeant. We go in five.”
“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!”
Chapter 5
“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 bett
er 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.
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