by Gary Beller
The gun roared as it fired, sending its sixty pound shell out at five times the speed of sound, impacting the nearest tank broadside. The impact detonated the tank’s power core, causing it to explode. “Two left!” Ben ordered. “Fire and reload!”
The gun fired again, while 1SMU Operators took up security positions around the gun.
“Phantom Six, that’s some nice shooting, but I think our boys on the beach need help more than we do.” Danny said into the Comm, as two dozen anti-tank rockets launched from where Danny’s unit was positioned.
“1 Bravo Actual, Phantom Six, give me your position.”
Westover smiled and relayed his coordinates. “Enemy works are one five zero meters dead ahead, extending north and south several miles. Can’t miss ‘em.”
Ben used his command tablet to calculate where Westover wanted shells. “Alright, 120 degrees right, elevation 25, set discharge at 35.”
The gun swung back around towards the beach and raised up. Geoff loaded the next round and set the capacitor. “Fire and reload.”
Westover heard the whistle of the round, and watched it fall between him and the enemy. “Over, adjust fire two five meters.”
Ben ordered the adjustments and ordered the gun fired. The round landed right on a heavily protected pillbox, destroying it and breaching the wall. “Good hit!” Westover said. “Thirty meters north and repeat.” Tom said, as one of the tanks behind him engaged the same pillbox he was targeting. The tank’s large-bore particle cannon wasn’t breaching the concrete and steel bunker. Ben ordered the gun adjustments and fired again. The artillery shells were being lobbed from behind the bunkers, into their relatively exposed rear. The effect was impressive.
“1 Bravo Actual, this is Grinder 6, make a hole for the armor and follow us.”
The armored units were moving forward now, and the Infantry moved out of the way to let them through. Once in front of Westover’s troops, they fanned out to provide some protection from small arms fire. Westover jumped up on top of one of the tanks, and waved his Marines forward.
“Phantom Six, sixty meters south!”
Ben ordered the adjustments and fired again. “Eventually someone’s gonna catch on here, guys!” Ben said over his Comm.
“Quit bitching and keep shooting!” Westover ordered.
“Yes Sir.” Ben said, sighing.
“So is this how we will spend the whole day?” Ashlie asked.
“Could be worse.” Ben said. “We could be Banor.”
About the Author
Gary Beller is a long-time science fiction enthusiast. He began writing creatively in middle school, and was encouraged to continue his creative writings by several teachers. Gary is an avid fan of Star Wars and Star Trek. Outside of writing, his interests include Football, Baseball, and Airsoft.
Gary lives in northeastern Illinois, where he spends his time working, writing, or chasing his two children, John and Summer.
Follow Gary on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/garybellerwrites or on Twitter http://twitter.com/gary_beller