Soldiers of Tomorrow: The Winter War

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Get back, over here.”

  Mortar shells hammered the ground around them, creating a wall that picked at people indiscriminately. Each explosion seemed to hit another of the defenders, and soon a number broke and fled from their positions. Marcus kept his head down. More shells landed until the sound faded, to be replaced by the crack of small arms.

  “They’re on the steps!” shouted a man.

  Marcus lifted his head and leant over the fallen landship’s leg. He took aim with his sidearm and fired three shots. He had no idea if they hit, and as he took aim for a fourth, a group leapt passed him and landed alongside. More followed, each hugging the ground to avoid being seen or shot. When the man looked around, Marcus was stunned to see who it was.

  “Ray?”

  A shell landed metres away, showering them both in snow.

  “Marcus, you made it this far.”

  “Yes. This isn’t quite what we planned, is it?”

  Ray popped back up and fired a burst with his rifle, and then looked back down at Marcus and his crew.

  “Your guys put up a hell of a fight, Marcus. We couldn’t have asked for more.”

  Then his brow tightened, as though worried about yet another problem.

  “Lieutenant Baker, is he still here? Communications are pretty much gone now.”

  The woman beckoned off to their right.

  “He’s right up there, with the last group of Alexandrians.”

  “Baker! Baker!”

  Ray rushed towards their position. Several bullets struck close to him as he hunkered down and then rushed into the Capitol Building. He found Baker stuffing magazines into his coat from the webbing of a German soldier. It was still covered in the last wearer’s blood. Dead and wounded lay all around, with few in the room still able to fight. Gerry’s own blood flowed from a gushing head wound, and his face was cut up from debris. Ray grasped his had to stop it, as he seemed oblivious to everything that was going on.

  “We aren’t stopping now, not until they are all dead!” Baker screamed.

  Marcus rushed inside the building with the rest of them, as shots continued to be traded.

  “There’re too many of them out there. We can’t defeat that many,” said Marcus.

  “So you just give up, is that it? We don’t have anywhere else to go anymore. We stand and fight here, or we die.”

  “Do you think it is any different for us now? We have pledged ourselves to this cause, and we intend to see it through.” Marcus was insulted that his loyalty was being questioned.

  “How the hell can we keep this up?” Lisa asked.

  “They are as smashed as we are,” replied Baker.

  “I fear less so, have you seen what we still face out there?” Marcus said quietly.

  The room fell silent as they dwelled on how bad things had gotten. They had put in so much, but it was not enough.

  “Ray Barnes!” a voice called out over a megaphone.

  None of them said a word, waiting for the enemy to go on.

  “We know you’re in there. Surrender now, and you will be given a painless execution!”

  “That’s a great offer,” said Lisa sarcastically.

  “What other choices do we have?”

  “We fight,” said Baker sternly.

  “I’d never give up, but what else do we have left to fight with?”

  “We still draw breath, and we still have ammunition.”

  “Against everything we face out there?” Ray looked around at the dead and dying around them.

  “We aren’t going down without a fight,” declared Marcus.

  Ray nodded in agreement. He believed in the sentiment, but it would almost certainly result in their deaths.

  “If we are going to end this, let’s end it right, you hear me?”

  “We got it.”

  Lisa strode up to him and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him passionately, as if it would be the first and one chance they would ever have. The room fell silent as they reflected on what that meant. The gunfire had stopped completely, each side readying for what was to come.

  Ray was about to order the command when he heard the most unlikely of sounds. A hunting horn bellowed out in the streets, echoing all around. It was soon followed by the sound of engines and the gallop of horses. Ray, Marcus, and Gerry rushed to a window. Jack Thomas and the last of his survivors in were in trucks and storming towards the enemies flank. Machines guns mounted over the cabs opened fire.

  But that was not the most surprising sight. Almost fifty militia on horseback were galloping alongside them. Every one of them well armed and kitted out for the winter. They fired their rifles on the move with precision and accuracy as the mounted force of horses and trucks stormed towards the enemy flank, laying down a brutal salvo of fire. Many SS and Heer troops were cut down, and others ran for cover against this new and unexpected threat.

  “This is it. This is our chance,” Marcus declared, as the gunfire rained down on the enemy.

  Ray rushed back to the centre of the atrium they had been in, knowing that many of the survivors could hear him from there in the ruins of the building.

  “We have a chance. It is what we came for. This is the day we take back this country. Good men and women out there are fighting for us, fighting for our freedom. Rise up and join them!”

  He primed his rifle and looked back to Lisa one last time. Love was in her eyes that he had never noticed before. He smiled, wishing it had come in different times.

  “Better now than never, let’s move!”

  He ran out of the door at their head. Everyone still able to walk chased after him, none closer than Lisa and Woody. Other rebels leapt from the gaping holes in the ruins and open windows, swarming out towards the enemy. They fired on the move. The enemy fired a few shots back, but turned to run as the trucks and cavalry smashed into their flank.

  “They’re breaking. They’re running!” Baker shouted as he kept firing.

  Several of the cavalry leapt over vehicle wrecks in pursuit of the German forces. They gunned them down as they fled. The hunting horn of the cavalry rang out triumphantly as they watched their enemy flee. Many more were cut down as they did so. Ray stopped at a burnt out car, placing his rifle on the rooftop to rest his weary arms and get a good aim. He shot three fleeing soldiers in the back, and didn’t feel a shred of remorse for doing so.

  Marcus reached him and didn’t even bother firing back, his sidearm not having the range for the job.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” said Baker, “That’s it. Run, you bastards!”

  The gunfire continued to ring out for several minutes, but became continually less frequent. Cries of joy and relief rang out, and many fired in the air to celebrate their victory.

  “I don’t bloody believe it. I never thought I would see the day,” said Baker.

  “The battle for Washington is won,” said Marcus.

  In that moment, Ray turned his attention to the cavalry that had ridden in support of them. He didn’t recognise a man or woman among them. One rode up to him; he had been at the head of the charge and clearly held rank. He was in his forties and hard-faced, light haired, had a short beard, and an M15 rifle in hand. The man had a broad smile on his face as if they had been friends for years.

  “Ray Barnes?” he asked in a peculiar accent.

  Woody looked a little put out but didn’t make a fuss, not in the face of such a triumphant victory.

  “I am Barnes,” declared Ray.

  The man climbed down and reached out his hand in friendship. Ray could hardly refuse.

  “My name is John Fowler.”

  “How is this possible? Where did you even come from?”

  “I am from Nova Scotia.”

  “Canada?”

  Fowler smiled.

  “Indeed.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “My province has risen up against the Reich like yours has. New Brunswick and Quebec are now fighting, too. We hear
d you needed a hand. This rebellion started with you. When we heard you needed some help, we couldn’t let it end where it started.”

  Ray could barely believe what he was hearing and was almost reduced to tears. He could not find his words, so Baker stepped forward and did so for him.

  “Welcome to the resistance.”