Soldiers of Tomorrow: The Winter War

by Michael G. Thomas

“Well, Wheeler, when I call it, you fire, you got that?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He was shaking, but still doing his job in the face of horrifying scenes. Ray took aim at the centre body mass of the creature, having no confidence in his abilities at being any more accurate. The machine was about to open fire on Lisa’s position when Ray gave the order.

  “Fire!”

  The gun rocked back as the shell soared from the barrel. It struck the left weapon arm of the machine at the elbow joint. It fell limp as the joint was destroyed, peering around for the source of its pain as if to get revenge.

  “Reload!”

  Wheeler swung the breech open. He slammed in another shell and locked the breech down.

  “Ray? Ray!” Gerry yelled. The machine’s other weapon arm was taking aim at them.

  “I know, I know! Fire!”

  The gun rocked back once more, and struck the machine high, causing it to stagger back.

  “Reload!”

  A shell slammed into the breech just as the landship was about to recover.

  “Fire!”

  This one struck its damaged arm at the shoulder, but at least knocked it back, briefly pinning it against the ruins of an office tower.

  “Reload!”

  Wheeler did as ordered with the precision and speed of a professional soldier. He knew what was on the line. They all did.

  “Fire!”

  The shell struck the hip joint of the machine. Several blasts erupted from the walker, and then it collapsed forward into a heap, to the cheers from all those who saw it go down.

  “Well, damn!” Gerry jumped up excitedly and threw his hat down into the snow. They all stood up to marvel at their work.

  “Cover!” a voice cried out.

  Just in time they noticed a tank jolt to a halt nearby. The turret rotated to take aim, and all three of them hastily ran from the gun. They jumped through a hole in a nearby building as the tank spit fire. A shell struck their AT gun and blew it apart. But the vehicle didn’t come after them. They presented no threat now, and it went back into the fight.

  Ray led the three of them from the building. They stood in awe at the epic battle unfolding. The remaining landships fought above them like towering Gods battling for the fate of the universe.

  “I am going for Lisa and Woody. Get to Marcus and see what you can do!”

  “What about me?” Wheeler asked.

  “You’re with me. Let’s go!”

  * * *

  Capitol Hill, Washington D.C.

  Marcus wiped the sweat from his face as shells continued to slam into the landship. It was almost impossible to see what was happening. Soldiers and militia on both sides were swarming around the ruins of the old American capital. Smoke, explosions, and gunshots were bad enough, but the snowstorm worsened by the second, giving the place a white, yet hellish appearance. He recalled stories of the horrors of the Eastern Front, right after the victory at Stalingrad, and this looked very similar.

  “Tanks, drive them back!”

  The guns shuddered, and as soon as a tank took a hit, they began to fall back. Men in white greatcoats passed them, launching unguided rockets towards Eiserner Gott, ignoring the warheads as though little more than an irritation. Some missed, but others blasted holes into the multiple sections of slat armour.

  “Engine one is overheating,” said Dougal, “Air intake system is blocked. It might be damaged.”

  Marcus grimaced at the news. They ran on multiple engines, but losing one in the middle of a battle was not ideal.

  “Use the battery reserves, and see if you can find the problem.”

  “Yes, Kapitän.”

  More rifle and machine gun rounds glanced off the armour, but Marcus had learnt a long time ago to ignore them. He could do little about them, so it was best to carry on. His attention wasn’t on the hordes of soldiers anymore, but the single landship facing off against him. It had stepped out from behind a burning tank, and for seconds had been hidden behind black smoke.

  “Landship!” Straight ahead! Interceptors at the ready.”

  “Already on automatic,” said Torsten Urs.

  Two more missiles hurtled towards him. Both exploded metres away. The interceptor shells had launched from the torso mounts. Shards of superheated metal sprayed along the front like hailstones. Marcus almost choked upon seeing the red indicator status for the defensive interceptor suite. They only carried so many star shells, and each launcher was empty.

  “Reload those damned guns. She’s about to load and fire again!”

  He gulped uncomfortably, knowing he could do nothing now as the men in the landship fought against time to match the enemy. At the same time, he checked left and right for signs of the other Heer landships. He saw the missiles moving into position, and then half of the machine tore off and crashed to the ground.

  “What the…”

  More shells slammed nearby, and he exhaled with relief. A Henschel E-200 Krokodil trundled past the crippled walker. A pair of Super Tigers moved in, but was driven off by heavy cannon fire from Bertha, the heaviest of all the Militant landships. Shells crashed around the tanks, and soon their sole defence was to dump smoke that soon flooded the area. A squad of militia rushed towards them, two carrying some kind of improvised weapon platform.

  “This is getting out of control,” said Marcus, “We need to stay on top of this. The SS and Heer will beat us if we let them. They have the training and experience. If our people break, we’ll never rally them.”

  They turned around at the exact moment heavy gusts of wind blew across the Mall. For a brief moment, he could see the massive numbers of militia engaged in battle amongst one side of the museum ruins. Grenades and shells exploded sporadically, but the streaks of light from the small arms were morbidly fascinating. White shapes marked out the advancing SS as they moved in.

  “Give them some help, gunners.”

  Eiserner Gott took three more steps and opened up with her howitzers and machine guns. The withering fire slammed into the SS units, scattering them. The shooting continued for almost twenty seconds before the wind died down and the visibility began to drop once more. A shell narrowly missed them, forcing the driver to backpaddle to bring the front armour towards the suspected enemy positions.

  “Where the hell are they? The landships were here a minute ago.”

  The machine stepped down to the flat ground at the end of the Mall and scanned for targets. Bullets glanced off the armour, and a Super Tiger tried to reverse away.

  “Contact, Tiger, straight ahead.”

  “Fire!” Hans Hendrik shouted.

  The landship shook gently as the arm guns unleashed a pair of armour piercing shells. Both struck the tank under its mantlet, blasting the front of the turret clean off. Hatches popped open as the few surviving crew tried desperately to flee.

  “Eiserner Gott, behind you!” Kibwe Tafari called out on the closed channel.

  “Driver, turn!”

  It was too late, though. The enemy landship burst out from the snow and smashed into the rear of the much older machine. They staggered several metres and then struck the ground in a cloud of snow, concrete, and mud. Soldiers from both sides scattered, trying to avoid being crushed to death by hundreds of tonnes of machine.

  “Get us back up!” Marcus snapped.

  “I’m trying to,” said Karl Lothar, “The damned leg is pinned.”

  The diesel engines roared with power as every remaining ounce of energy transferred to the legs. Marcus reached for the periscopes and spun around to see what was happening. Most of his view was obscured, but he could see men and women climbing over a fallen landship. They were hurling flaming bottles at the trapped machine.

  “Hold on. This is going to be rough!” Karl Lothar shouted.

  The entire landship shook violently, and then they were up on one knee. Marcus wiped his face and checked the view once more.

  “There, three of them, they have us surrounded.”


  As he spoke, the remaining landships adjusted their positions ready for the final attack. They were big machines, bigger than his ship when fully upright, though lighter and less well armoured.

  “Shields, get them in place. Brace, brace…”

  The hammering of automatic canon shells drowned his voice out. The Victoria Class landships carried quadruple 20mm chain guns instead of arms. They opened fire from three directions, hitting the old landship with incredible amounts of firepower. Then two fired their missiles at point-blank range. The warheads slammed into the thick armoured slats and exploded, sending broken metal flying through the air.

  “Forwards shields are gone. Redirecting port plating now!”

  The slats moved around the hull, stopping as they jammed against the damaged plates. Another missile struck home, and this time breached the chest armour and exploded. Sections of internal bracing material ripped off, showering the engineering compartment. It killed Dougal Leary before he even turned to react. Fire soon spread through the section before the automatic fire suppressors kicked in.

  “They’re circling and strafing to get around the armour. We can only face one at a time!” Torsten Urs said, “We’re not gonna last much longer like this.”

  “Eiserner, we’re coming for you!”

  “Mose König!” Marcus exclaimed, “About time. Get in this fight, now!”

  Marcus checked the scopes once more and gasped as the last of the Militants, including both Bertha and Black Panther raced in to fight.

  “Okay, let’s get stuck in. Gunners, pick your targets. Heribert, keep their infantry away from us. I don’t want to find demolition charges strapped to our legs.”

  “On it!”

  The massive landship stepped to the side, and then opened fire with every weapon she carried. The shoulder-mounted howitzers blew chunks out of the Victoria Class machines, but the main arm-mounted guns did the real work. After two volleys, nothing remained of one machine other than the waist and legs. The three Militants scurried about, blasting it with their light guns. Bertha paused, lining up to fire her battery of heavy guns. The combined missile batteries of two enemy landships hit her. Bertha’s shattered hulk tipped over and hit the ground, as one a smaller Militant exploded in spectacular fashion. Marcus could hardly breathe at seeing the machines destroyed, made worse by knowing two of his friends were aboard them.

  “It’s just us and Black Panther left.”

  He hit the intercom button.

  “Kibwe, form up to our left. Let’s end this.”

  The three Victoria Class landships were directly ahead, each with missiles ready and their shoulder-mounted chain guns lined up. Kibwe aimed his weapons at them, and then both sides paused. Marcus looked across to his surviving crew.

  “This is it, men. Be ready.”

  He looked back, watching the machines for signs of weakness. The Victoria Class was an impressive design, with power and speed, and sophisticated weaponry. He’d fought them before at New York and knew what needed to be done.

  “Kibwe. We go at them like bulls. Are you ready?”

  “Of course.”

  “As one…now!”

  The Heer commander must have been waiting for a signal, perhaps even surrender. Instead, the two rebel machines staggered forward, lifting one leg at a time, and moving to attack. They made it halfway before the Victoria machines opened fire. Chain guns tore into their attackers, but still they came on.

  “Hit them!”

  The four main guns fired, as well as the Panzerfausts fitted on their upper pylons. The first landship was on fire as Eiserner Gott crashed into it. Missiles launched by at a range of two metres. They had no time to build up speed and exploded impotently, as both machines spun around and hit the ground. The last thing Marcus spotted was Black Panther sidestepping its target, hitting its flank, and tipping the machine over. The heavy machine then blasted the fallen machine until it broke apart. The crew onboard started cheering, and Marcus even joined in as Eiserner Gott rose back to its feet. Then to their astonishment, the final enemy machine unleashed a full salvo of gunfire and missiles at Black Panther. The first few seemed to do relatively little, and then the entire upper body vanished in a bright white explosion. Marcus lifted his hands to shield his face.

  “No!”

  As the light faded, the last visible Reich landship smashed the wrecked Militant to the ground. It then turned around and came right at him. It was different to the others. One shoulder carried an articulated excavator arm for entrenchment and siege warfare. It hung down low, the digger blade well below the knee. Almost an entire platoon of Waffen SS soldiers fanned out on either side and came thundering through the snow, bullets glancing off their armoured aprons and faceplates.

  “Kapitän!” said a stunned Torsten Urs, “Our guns are offline. We’ve just got the machine guns left.”

  “Then use them.”

  Eiserner Gott hunkered down on its haunches and sprayed the ground with its battery of eight machine guns. The weapons shredded the ground, cutting down the enemy in droves. Some kept on coming, but with each burst their numbers dwindled.

  “Move back, give ground, and buy us some time.”

  Vehicles and people dashed around the battle, but all Marcus could focus on was the machine. As it came forward, Eiserner Gott moved backwards. Both fired on the other, but with her main guns out of action, there was little the old Kriegsmarine landship could do. A threat indicator activated and continued to flash red.

  Not good.

  Marcus looked around, but the only cover was what remained of the burnt-out husk of the Capitol Building. Little of the dome was left, but even after all this fighting, the place still had the familiar look of the home of American democracy.

  “Driver, get us inside the rubble, fast. I have an idea.”

  “Kapitän!”

  Using the diesel and electrical systems, the driver boosted the drive units. They moved up the steps, smashing what remained of the shattered stonework. Shells crashed around, and one blasted off a great chunk from the left leg. Eiserner Gott stumbled and then fell into the structure, vanishing from view for a second. The Heer landship was right behind and landed inside to take aim. Its missiles were loaded and in position for the final strike.

  “Here it comes,” said Marcus, “Be ready and do exactly as I told you.”

  The old machine waited motionless, half buried in snow and concrete. The enemy machine inched closer and closer. Then with fifteen metres between them, he gave the order.

  “Now!”

  Eiserner Gott stormed out of the shadows and crashed into the undamaged enemy war machine. Chain guns and missiles slammed into Eiserner Gott, but she made it into contact, even as flames spread across her hull.

  “Put her down, now!” Marcus yelled.

  The gunners pulled back the cannon arms and slammed them into the enemy landship, as though in a mixed martial arts fight. One after the other they hammered, each blow tearing chunks off the machine. Militiamen swarmed inside with some getting too close. Two placed devices on the legs of the enemy machine before being cut down by chain gun fire.

  “Don’t stop. Every ounce of power we have left. Use it!”

  The radio crackled, and Ray’s voice filled the interior.

  “…breached. Militants are gone. Everybody fall back to the rallying ground. We make our stand at Capitol Hill!”

  Marcus shook his head at hearing the news. He thought they were doing better than that, but clearly, he was wrong. Even after a full thirty seconds of this brutal assault, the last Victorious Class landship would not give up. It used its more powerful engines to lift itself up from the ground and rose up taller over Eiserner Gott. The chain guns fired once more, but this time the excavator arm swung as though about to demolish a ruined building. It slammed into Eiserner Gott so hard the older machine was lifted from the ground and hurled back through the building. It then slid halfway down the ruined steps. She remained immobile and facedown,
smoke rising up from her hull.

  “Get us back in the fight!”

  Torsten Urs looked back at him. The generators are gone, and we’ve lost electrical power. We need to…”

  His voice was drowned out by a massive explosion as the lower half of their tormentor ripped apart. Super-heated chemicals burnt the metal with ease until the limbs broke apart, sending the hull crashing to the ground.

  “Everybody out, now!”

  Marcus didn’t need to repeat the orders as the surviving crew hit the hatch controls. As soon as they opened, the frigid air burst inside the heated interior. Marcus dragged himself out and dropped into the snow alongside the knocked out landship. Friendly hands helped him up, and he looked into the face of a young woman wearing hiking gear. She held a captured Reich assault rifle in her hands. She lifted her face covering, smiled, and pointed into the distance. Three vehicles and a pair of tanks were racing off into the horizon before being enveloped by the storm.

  “Their commander has fled.”

  Marcus breathed a sigh of relief, especially as he spotted scores of rebels moving from their positions to the broken walls and shallow trenches around Capitol Hill. He was sure he could see Ray, with his usual entourage of veterans nearby. He looked back to check on his comrades and was glad to see the rest of them were alive, if not a little battered from the fighting.

  “Get down!” shouted an unfamiliar voice, “They’re coming.”

  The woman dropped to her knees and dragged him down. Marcus reached for his pistol and then looked off into the snowstorm. Torsten Urs and the gunner Hans Hendrik were next to him, holding their weapons at the ready.

  “It’s the SS,” said the woman bitterly, “They just won’t give up, will they?”

  Marcus lifted slightly to look over the half-buried leg of Eiserner Gott. A hundred metres away were two hundred, maybe even more Waffen SS soldiers. They were fanned out, their weapons drawn and at the ready. Ahead of them was a small cadre of heavily armoured SS men, with an officer in the lead. A group of rebels rushed up the steps and away from the SS. Marcus spotted their leader instantly. The woman called out to him.