Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2)

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Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 48

by John Wilkinson


  3/1/28 - Time 02:30

  Members of The Shrimps Company woke us early yesterday morning, running through the building, shouting.

  ‘Mortar Attack! Mortar Attack!’

  As I lay on the floor, I could hear the whistle of the shells, as they came overhead, and then the explosions as they started to hit the ground. Everyone was up and on their feet in seconds, as the sound of shells falling through trees could be heard, cracking branches, just outside the building. I looked at my watch, the time was just before six am, and we had been caught with our pants down, not an ideal start to the days fighting. There was an explosion on the roof, as pieces of debris came scattering down past the windows. Wood, brick, glass and dust. Lieutenant Colonel Carter ordered the snipers to ‘Get high’ for a better view, we needed to take out their mortars. Keane ran upstairs, as more mortars dropped close by. There were more explosions, and looking out of the front window I could see two Vikings ablaze, and large black craters, still smoking.

  ‘Get away from window’ yelled a member of The Clarets Company, as the sound of more Shells could be heard in the distance. Their aim started to improve, as shells started it hit the building with regularity. The walls shook, pictures fell off the walls and smashed, books fell out of bookcases. There was a fog of dust rising from the floor, and soldiers were shouting orders as I gathered my equipment and lined up with my company. I could see some of the battalions walking wounded, tightening bandages, and brushing dried blood off their uniforms. Some of the new recruits looked mentally ill prepared for the fight, still a little shocked by yesterdays fighting. Unlike the regular soldiers, who looked like machines, ready at a moments notice. Little D explained we needed to stay undercover with a mortar attack, he’d heard of entire companies obliterated, with only pieces left to identify them from. A hole appeared in the front wall, as soldiers inched backwards to remain under cover. Bricks and dust poured into the room, causing men to cover their mouths coughing. As the dust settled, I heard shouts from upstairs, before Keane came bounding into the room claiming all the mortar positions had been eliminated. When we got outside, the true damage became apparent, with a large gapping hole in the front of the building, and half the roof missing. The fire in the two destroyed Vikings was threatening to spread, so Lieutenant Colonel Carter ordered us to move all the vehicles behind the building, and put out the fires. We shovelled snow onto the flames, which was in plentiful supply. Overnight had seen large snowdrifts, in some areas up to six feet deep. Lieutenant Colonel Carter told us to have breakfast before going out to fight as we would need our strength, he thought today would be decisive, should the weather hold off for long enough. Two Vikings arrived with new company members, to replace the ones evacuated last night. They all looked fresh faced and a bit wet behind the ears, they’ll have to get into the swing of things quickly if they want to live much beyond today. Tom Atkinson joined Blue and White Company, an incredibly tall, thin man, maybe six seven, with a shaven head and stubble. I remember thinking ‘I’m glad I’m not that tall, imagine trying to get that into cover!’ In the few hours I’ve known him he’s always asking questions, which is not a bad thing, when the moments right. But he did appear to have been thrown in the deep end, I think the generals are keeping their strongest soldiers for the real offensive. The prisoners who surrendered last night were loaded into the newly arrived people carriers, and transported to Camp Blue. We could hear gunfire in the distance, but didn’t know what it related to, all members of our battalion where accounted for. The spotters had taken position in the attic, and reported Torriero’s army were regrouping, and preparing to make a move. Lieutenant Colonel Carter wanted to make a move on them, before they were ready, so he ordered a meeting. His two battalions are made up of sixteen companies, and he started to split us up, giving us particular objectives. Four companies, Tangerines, Latics, Toffees and The Reds, we’re given the objective of completing an envelopment maneuver on both flanks of the battlefield, as the majority of the battalion kept them pinned in the centre ground. This was simply falling back and sweeping around the army, unnoticed, to attack them from both flanks, hopefully encircling them. Blue and white Company and Clarets Company were put in reserve, with the job of securing the bridge, when the moment was right. A couple of spotters were sent to secure a pylon, that was positioned on the other side of the motorway, overlooking much of the battlefield. Lieutenant Colonel Carter considered it vital to get an unrestricted view of the battle, and this tower would offer that. Keane offered to go, but was not selected, his particular set of skills were required for the bridge mission. Four Vikings set off with the flanking teams, heading through the snow covered fields towards Bamber Bridge, where they would separate, taking alternative routes towards Clayton Green and Thorpe Green respectively. From there they’ll wait until given the go ahead to press, and encircle the opposition. There was a lot of snow on the ground, the air was clear and crisp, but biting. As the sporadic gunfire got closer, the main body of our battalion went to meet them, on the same ground we fought over yesterday. They dug themselves into areas hit by mortars, and used it to lay down a base of fire they could attack under. A section of the battalion would push forward, clearing the area, and then bed in. Then the unit covering them would pass, in a leapfrog technique, clear the area ahead and then lay down a base of fire. The early hours of the battle went to plan, with Torriero’s men suffering massive casualties, but as yesterday, when the weather started to change, so did the momentum. At first it was a numbers problem, we had only put forward a small unit to deal with the initial wave of fighters, with other objectives delegated to different teams. Torriero’s army seemed to start doubling, for every member we killed or wounded, three took their place. Just the sheer number of their fighters turned the battle their way, at one point, two members of The Shrimps Company were killed within five minutes of each other. We were taking casualties, and had to pull back, it was hard watching from a distance, we were cold and desperate to get into the action, but we didn’t have to wait too long. Around eleven o’clock, Lieutenant Colonel Carter called us into the farm building, where he had set himself up organising the battle.

  ‘I need Blue and White and Clarets to take control of the bridge’ he said, standing up from his table, and walking over to the window. He watched the battle for a few seconds, raging three hundred yards away, before continuing. ‘That bridge is key, that’s where the majority of the new fighters are coming from, it needs clearing so we can bring the flanks together.’

  ‘Yes sir’ replied Sergeant Welsh, ‘Gear up lads, we move out in five.’

  I decided to take my Welrod, I didn’t know how it would go on the bridge, but if we wanted to clear it stealthily, it was our best bet. After three minutes we were all stood in the back garden of the property, waiting for the sergeants, who arrived together in conversation. I don’t really know any of the members of Clarets Company just yet, just names. Their sergeant is called Hargreaves, and team members include King, Porter, Keresley, Ashby, Gibson, or maybe it was Higson, and Walters their medic.

  ‘Right men’ said Sergeant Welsh. ‘We are going to try and do this as quietly as possible. Check your weapons, and let’s get moving.’

  We left the property through the back gate, and ran along the outside edge of garden, sticking close to the Hedgerow. There we could see the only route to the bridge was along the edge of the battle ground, littered with bodies and debris. We quietly made our way through the snowy field, towards the huge concrete structure. The field we were in was covered in undisturbed snow, just the odd crater, probably from a badly aimed mortar. As we got closer to the trees bellow the bridge, I noticed a couple of trails appear in the snow, footprints running in the same direction we were. I stopped momentarily, to focus on our destination, when a machine gun opened up on us. The bullets thudded into the mud ten yards in front of us, and we all hit the deck, which was cold and wet. I pulled my rifle across my body so I could aim it forward, and crawled towards Little D,
who was straining to get a better view of the gunman. The gunfire stopped, and a man ran out of the hedgerow to our right, heading straight for us, firing a hand gun. Murphy shot him through the chest, and then through his head as he tried to get back up. I searched the hedgerow in a mild panic, looking for any more fighters, but it was difficult to recognise anything. The machine gun opened up again as Welsh ordered us to lay some fire down on its position, when he was changing a clip. We just kept our heads down, and when there was a pause in fire, we climbed up and opened fire as one, so Welsh could run. He took Murphy with him, and sprinted parallel to the hedgerow towards the gun placement. Another man appeared from out of the trees, and shot at them both, screaming out loud as he ran. Welsh shot him dead, before diving into the position he’d just vacated, behind a large tree. The gunner sprayed bullets across the field, as we crawled over the frozen ground towards him. Sergeant Welsh got his breath back, before lobbing a grenade at the gun placement, which exploded, killing the shooter. We cleared the area out before reaching the steep banking, that climbed up the side of the bridge. Welsh said he would go first, with Murphy, and recon the area. As we waited I ate a nutritional bar out of my pack, and had a quick word with our new recruit. He had a few questions to ask, and looked a little shell shocked, the realities of being shot at is not as glamorous as the generals told him. He was white, and stuttering, but he was alive, hopefully he would be by the end of the day. Welsh slid back down the banking on his arse, and set about planning our move.

  ‘The carriageway is three lanes deep, on both sides, Blue and White will take the left three, Clarets will take the right three. Keane, there is an articulated lorry right above our position, I want you to climb on top of the cab, and cover everyone. There are none of Torriero’s men for three hundred yards, way beyond all the abandoned vehicles. Or if there are, they are strays, to take out silently. We all climbed the slippery banking, using the stone bridge wall to help maneuver our way up, at the top we gathered around the lorry. Keane was cursing to himself, as Little D help him climb up the side of the cab, and position himself.

  ‘It’s pretty clear for around four hundred yards, on both sides’ whispered Keane. ‘Just a group of men, on the left side around twenty cars deep.’

  After a short conversation between Sergeants Welsh and Hargreaves, Clarets Company left us, heading over the bollards, and onto the opposite side of the motorway. They stayed in unison, working their way between vehicles and debris. As they past the hole in the bridge, caused by the truck that ploughed off yesterday, we set off. Sticking close to the vehicles, we moved swiftly and silently, until we reached a overturned van, tangled in a stinger stretching across the carriageway. Sergeant Welsh put his hand up, causing us all to stop. I knelt down in shards of smashed glass, and looked under the vehicle we were positioned behind. I could see the feet of four men, standing around six yards away. Sergeant Welsh indicated for Little D, Atkinson and myself to follow to the right and he and Murphy would take the left. We switched to silent weapons, crept around the vehicle and took them out quickly and silently. We removed their bodies from sight, hiding them in the vehicles they’d been standing around. We pushed on past the traps they had lay, into the quagmire of abandoned vehicles and debris. We checked every vehicle we past, in one Sergeant Welsh killed a sleeping man with a bullet through his temple. The debris covering the carriageway was difficult to avoid, glass, mangled bodies, rocks and pieces of twisted burned metal, we had to watch every step in case the noise alerted anyone. We tried to keep Clarets Company in view, we could only use the element of surprise once, and it would be more effective if we timed it as one. There was a large hole in the carriageway, caused by an explosion, with a vehicle hanging precariously over the edge. There was a dead fighter who had been shot as he tried to climb out of the glassless windscreen, and other frozen bodies littering the area. Through the hole in the road, we could see the battle ranging below, as the army tried to hold onto their position. The snow had been coming down steadily for around an hour, but the sky had turned a darker kind of grey, and was rolling our way. The winds started to pick up, Sergeant Welsh wanted to achieve the objective before it reached us, and pushed us on. There had been few footprints in the snow, on our approach to Torriero’s holding, but as we got closer, they became more common. Ahead there was a large coach jackknifed across all three lanes of the left carriageway, and the trailer from a truck across the right. There were four men in front of the coach, two on either side of the road guarding the camp behind, where all Torriero’s men were gathered. Sergeant Welsh wanted to get a better view of what was beyond our sight, and sent Murphy and Little D closer to investigate. He also sent a radio message to Keane, to find a position closer, where he could cover the area beyond the coach, and take out the men guarding the camp. We got a signal from Sergeant Hargreaves that they were in position, and Sergeant Welsh used the radio on Murphy’s back to speak to him, and organise a plan. Keane took position, and watched for an opportunity to take the shot, as we all waited patiently. The two guards on our side were leaning against the coach, two yards from each other, talking. The two on Sergeant Hargreaves side were patrolling, Keane took them out with one shot, as they past each other. The kind of shot I know we’ll get to hear about tonight. The second pair of guards were slightly more problematic, they remained in their position, leaning against the coach, having a conversation. The first bullet echoed over our heads as it arrowed towards the first guards head, the widow breaking behind him as he collapsed to the floor. The second guard leapt to his feet, and had just lifted his rifle to his side as a bullet tore through his neck, and then another went through his brain as he lay on the floor spluttering blood out of his mouth. Two members of Clarets Company moved in, to remove the bodies from sight, Sergeant Welsh ordered Murphy and Little D to do the same. Another guard appeared suddenly on our side of the road, he didn’t notice the bodies and went to take a piss by the wheel of the coach. Murphy and Little D where stuck in cover, unable to get to the bodies without alerting the guard. Keane couldn’t take him from his position, so Sergeant Welsh signalled for me to, I left my position, and swiftly crept towards him. The steam was rising from the floor, as his urine burned the snow off the ground. He was one of Torriero’s men, so I had no problems executing him, with a bullet to the back of his head. His body slumped to the floor, as Murphy and Little D came out of cover, and made their way to the bodies. I lifted the guard into the coach, and lay his body on the floor. From there I could see through the window into the crudely assembled camp, at what we were going to have to deal with. There was one large group of men, maybe as many as three to four hundred, all trying to stay warm, under what looked like armed guard. They appeared to be regular men, not fighters, they had no weapons, no uniforms, in fact some didn’t even have a jacket on. The guards on the other hand were wearing long black trench coats, the uniform of choice for Torriero’s true supporters. I counted eleven guards surrounding the group, an amount I felt comfortable we could deal with. There was another smaller group of around thirty men, close to the stairs leading down to the battlefield. They too were under armed guard, but had weapons themselves. The question was going to be, what would the other men do, when we take out the guards? Will they fight for Torriero, or would they see us as liberators? We couldn’t be sure either way, so would have to remain alert and vigilant. Sergeant Welsh spoke to Lieutenant Colonel Carter, who informed us the flanking army was in position, ready to move into the battle, we needed to complete our objective now. After a short radio conversation with Sergeant Hargreaves, Sergeant Welsh ordered us to move in, using deadly force. We moved in formation around the coach, and into the centre of the camp, in line with Clarets Company. The first people to see us were some of the large group, but the guards were alerted by their interest, and turned around for a face off. The first bullets fired were by Sergeant Welsh and Murphy, who killed the two guards nearest them. Then bullets rang out in all direction, as Torriero’s guards realised wha
t was happening. I knelt down by a burned out car, using the bonnet to rest on as I fired at one guard, who was running towards me. His bullets hit the car, tearing holes in the body work as I hit him in the legs with a rifle burst. He lay on the floor writhing around until Little D finished him off. The group of men looked on nervously, not sure of their fate. I shot at another guard, who dropped his weapon, and put his hands in the air. But a bullet felled him, from the direction of Sergeant Welsh and Murphy. I glanced at Clarets Company, who had worked their way to the smaller group of men by the steps, killing four guards on route. There was only one guard left, who was pinned down by the steps, using some of the group as a human shield. I couldn’t get a clear shot, no one could, he was surrounded, but wouldn’t give himself up.

  ‘Drop the weapon and come out’ yelled Sergeant Hargreaves, as we enclosed around him. But he wouldn’t, he ducked behind a man, holding him by the shoulder, keeping him in front. Sergeant Welsh shot at him, through the man, killing them both, and injuring another man caught in the line of fire. Another dead body, for the sake of killing this guard. For a moment, I thought it was going to pass without comment, but Little D couldn’t help himself.

  ‘Did you have to kill them?’

  Sergeant Welsh grabbed him by the collar, and pushed him out of earshot, as Sergeant Hargreaves spoke to a couple of members of his Company, Porter and Ashby I think, and ordered them to form a gate by the coach, so everyone could be searched. He then addressed the group of men.

  ‘My name is Sergeant Hargreaves, and that is Sergeant Welsh. We are all members of the British Army, I can confirm this war is over for you. If you have a weapon in your possession, can you place it on the floor, and step away.’ The group of men by the stairs dropped their rifles, and moved away from the stairs, joining the larger group. ‘Are there any more of Torriero’s men here?’ Shouted Sergeant Hargreaves. There was no answer from the group, they all looked broken and demoralised, shadows of human beings. The snow was really coming down now, eighty percent of these men looked like they could die, if they stay out here much longer. Sergeant Welsh and Little D re-joined the group as Sergeant Hargreaves continued.

 

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