The Red Tide: A WW3 Tactical RP(IC, Closed)

by **Australian Antarctica** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 2:16 pm

F.O.B Thunder, Helsinki Airport, Helsinki, Finland, May 12th, 1982
The F.O.B was bustling with activity. Tanks and Helicopter refueled while men rearmed. Since the Soviets had attacked two months earlier, the Fourth Combined Arms Company had been constantly fighting. They were the only NATO Unit in the entire country, and as such, they were always on the front lines. When the first wave of Soviets rushed across the border, they quickly overran the first line of defenses. A good portion of the Finnish military was destroyed in those opening days, but so were a good chunk of the Soviet invaders. The Soviets had suffered an almost 75% casualty rate, forcing them to rearm and regroup for almost a month. During this time NATO and the Finns were unable to counter attack and could only manage to get a few reinforcements and supplies in. Then in late April, they struck again. A Mechanized Brigade broke through the lines in the north, forcing the Finnish Infantry brigade deployed there to retreat south. At the same time, a Soviet infantry Brigade had broken through the center, cutting off the 4th Combined Arms Company from the main Finnish forces. That meant two whole Finnish Brigades were caught in between a Soviet Mechanized and Soviet Infantry Brigade. If that wasn't bad enough, an entire Armored Brigade was charging to Helsinki. In other words, the NATO forces were fucked. Already they were under strength, with one platoon completely wiped out and another with only half the fighting capability it should have, they had almost nothing left to fight with. Their only ray of hope was the NATO Naval Forces that had managed to hold the Baltic Sea against the Soviet Navy. One Aircraft carrier, several destroyers, and countless submarines were holding strong, with even more on the way.

Major Pierre Fabron look solemnly at the reports from the last patrols he'd sent out. Soviet scouts were already poking around the outskirts of the city, and had engaged one of his infantry squads. At least they'd managed to call in air support before they sustained any casualties, but that meant an attack was coming, and he needed to prepare. He called in the Platoon Commanders for a meeting to see their thoughts on the defense of the city, while he updated the standing orders for his unit. They were to continue evacuating civilians and fortifying the city as best as possible, as well as continue regular patrols around the almost deserted city. They were free to use the transport helicopters, though were advised not to. A Soviet AAA battery had been spotted to the southwest, meaning Air Support could be destroyed easily.

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=348335

by **The United Federation of Terrans** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:08 pm

Lt. Nathaniel Cooper sighed as he ran his hands through his messy crew cut; he and his crew had been forced to cut their own hair out of necessity as they were in their tank more times then not and long hair tended to get caught in machinery. The tankers were no barbers and thus the result was shaggy hair and barely maintained stubble as well as stained uniforms from constant days inside of the tank where grease and sweat ran rampant. The officer was at the moment securing a box of .50 caliber rounds to the rear of the tank's hull while Fletcher and Phelps, his loader and gunner restocked the severely depleted ammunition locker within the tank; as Fletcher the driver made oversaw the refueling of the Leopard's fuel tanks.

"Lt. Cooper?" A voice called out causing the officer to turn and look at teh ragged private before him.

"What is it?" He answered as he adjusted his rolled up EDRL BDU sleeves before jumping off the tank to secure a box of 7.62mm rounds for the tank's coaxial.

"Major Fabron wants all platoon leaders to report to headquarters." Cooper sighed as he nodded to the young man before he clambered back up onto the tank and withdrew a cut down C1A1 with no stock and a tanker's helmet which he put firmly on his head before he began the walk to headquarters. Cooper like his crew wore an dark green vest that allowed the tanker's to carry a map, knife, a small first aid kit and whatever else they fancied along with two single stack magazine pouches. Cooper made sure his rifle was slung as he ducked underneath a protruding tank barrel sidestepped, a mortar team and entered the headquarters we gave the CO a quick salute that any sergeant would have killed him for back in basic training.

by **Tayner** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:19 pm

Lt. Schmidt was ordering his armor platoon into defensive positions. He watched as his tanks refueled at the airport and saw them roll to their positions throughout the city. His most recent knolage of the situation was they were out a platoon and another was heavily damaged. The navy still managed to hold out, so there was hope amongst the men. He tried his best to keep moral high, but the truth was harsh. They were surrounded.

Major had called for the platoon leaders, and Schmidt had reported to the meeting room in the airport. The first thought for defense would be to take out the soviet AA, so they can get control of the air. He would wait for the rest of the Platoon Leaders to report before pitching his ideas. Maybe some naval bombardments on soviet positions around the city would weaken their combat effectiveness, and they can counter attack. He opened the door to the room "Lieutenant Frank Schmidt reporting for duty sir."

by **Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:23 pm

Lt. James Harrison
1st Infantry Platoon
4th Company
NATO Expeditionary Force
Helsinki

A cool Nordic wind, heralding cold weather from the north, blew across the lieutenant’s face. It was a nice, caressing wind, one that could bring the mind of a person to the here and now. That was something he desperately needed, because he had been dealing in future events for the past ten hours. He would continue to deal with future events for quite some time, he fathomed. From his position in the Chinook, he could view a lot of the ancient city of Helsinki. It was situated, for a large part, on a peninsula protruding from Finland Proper. The peninsula had a rail connection, a few brides and a port, everything to make it more accessible. Looking down, James could see why it was the capital of one of the oldest states of Europe. Why Finland was a Nordic country. As they sped over the city, it became clear that this was no normal day. Army trucks were busy transporting people around, barricades were erected, and from the smoke stacks of government buildings the white smoke of burning documents emerged. Finland was preparing for defeat. And who could blame them?

Helsinki was not their final destination, though. The helicopter sped on, leaving the centre of the city behind. Helsinki was of import, of course, but it would not be where the 4th made their stand. No, the city wasn’t strategically important yet. A fleet of NATO ships kept safe the harbour, so no attack could come from the south. For now, the most important task for the 4th was to defend the airfield. The Soviets would almost definitely use their airborne troop transports to ferry in supplies and additional troops once the airfield was secure, so there they would meet the enemy. It was converted into their FOB, and would be defended at all costs. Losing this airfield would mean losing Helsinki, and such a defeat was not something the NATO could handle at that moment in time. The 4th would have to soldier on.

The Chinook slowly began to descent. It didn’t take long, the approach to the airfield had been so low that James and his men could smell the freshly mown grass from the fields, together with the sweet pine scent that erupted from the forests. Finland was covered with them. The low approach was due to Soviet AA batteries deciding that the air was perfect for shooting at, and loosing anything at this juncture would be a critical mistake. Helo’s flew low, men stopped saluting in fear of snipers… Everything was done to make it the Soviets as hard as possible. It showed a degree of determination with the Finns, and the Combined Arms Company that had set up her defences. Whatever the odds, they would go on to the end.

As the transport touched down, the first to exit was the lieutenant. He had little time for anything that day, and even travel was a waste. He’d just returned from the NATO carrier in the Baltic, getting some maps and playing around with pen and pencil. James was, above all, a strategist. More so than a tough soldier, anyway. While he knew how to fire a gun, like any proper soldier, he liked to win his war games by manoeuvre, not by brute force. This combined with his liking for maps in an almost ceaseless search for the best positions, the best strategy. Back home in York, he had a working space filled with maps from cities, from Moscow to New York to London to Beijing, all filled with red and blue arrows. He had made a strategy for most cities. Helsinki, however, was absent, something he regretted in hindsight.

Quickly, he got into the command tent, a structure put up in all haste against the side of one of the airport walls. It used the full cover of the buildings around it for protection, so the tent itself stood as a house. It was their most important position, the HQ of the entire operation. From there, they could do what no man from the carrier could do; command on the field. Already in the tent were Major Fabron, a French officer, and lieutenant Cooper, from the country where they pronounced ‘lieutenant’ wrongly. Like Cooper before him, James gave a quick salute to the major, before putting down a few maps on the table. He nodded at Cooper.

“Morning, Nathan” he said, before turning to the major.

“You called for us, sir?” he said, remaining in stiff posture. Like many in the British army, lieutenant Harrison had a pretty tight idea of what an officer should be. Gallant, gentlemanly, stiff. Short in words, to the point, but never forgetting manners. That’s one reason he didn’t like working together with American officers, they lacked this idea in his mind. Germans were better, and the French… Well, the French. You get the idea. James waited for the major to begin briefing them on what would undoubtedly be bad news.

“Morning, Frank” he said, watching the tank commander enter the room as well. Americans everywhere…

by **Sarejo** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:28 pm

1Sgt. Hansman looked over his men, assembled in a tight formation in front of him. They were damn good men, and had served with each other ever since their deployment two months ago, when they all, himself included, had been fresh out of bootcamp. Now they were hardened veterans, and each knew their weapon better than they knew themselves. They were a brotherhood, no doubt.

"Squad, dismissed!" he shouted.

They all returned to their morning routine. They knew an offensive was coming soon, and they were just waiting for the order. Most were cutting their hair, or shaving. The machine-gun team, which was 1Sld. Diederick Lier and Sld. Lars Schonekamp, were cleaning their FN MAG. 1Sgt. Hansman ducked into the NCOs tent, finding KplC. Bijcank and Kpl. Voss playing cards. He walked over to his bunk, laid down, and began reading the next chapter of his book..

by **Tayner** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:31 pm

"Good morning James. I see you brought some presents to the party." Frank said. He waited for the meeting to begin. They shouldn't wait for a few tardy commanders. Frank turned to the other commander. "Good morning Nathan." He said as he walked towards a pot of warm coffee. "Does anyone want any?" He said as he poured some into a white mug.

by **Ubaria** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:42 pm

12th May, 1982 - F.O.B Thunder - Helicopter Depot

"Wh-why the fu-f-fuck is i-t ss-so c-c-cold?" The pale Irish Co-pilot spluttered through chattering teeth, feebly rubbing his hands over his shoulders in an attempt to bring about some warmth. Micheal O' Hearne, the Irish-American, 30-something co-pilot hailing from New York had done nothing but complain about the state of the Finnish weather since he had arrived, the poor sod wouldn't be able hold a Cyclic stick without wobbling it all over the place. Thomas remained in his slouched leaning position against a stack of military grade aviation parts, chewing on some gum whilst staring through warm tinted aviators over the airstrip as airmen and crew frantically buzzed around, conversing between one another in their respective dialects.

"I've told you, its Finnish Spring. Which is like an Alaskan winter" Thomas replied bluntly with some truths, Thomas himself hailed from Fairbanks Alaska so he was somewhat used to the sub-zero temperatures, though being stationed in Vietnam for a time had dented his resistance to the cold, that had been some 7 years ago mind you. After the war he had spent his time doing commercial helicopter flights in the Alaskan Mountains, anything from Tours to search and rescue, he knew how to fly in the snow, the key difference from doing tours however, is that you didn't have Russian ZSU's firing your way.

"F-fucking F-f-finns. How d-do they d-d-do it?" O'Hearne quivered once more.

Thomas simply rolled his eyes and resumed looking over the airstrip, glancing over to where his Huey was being checked over, it wasn't the same one he had flew in 'Nam since he had to blow that one to smithereens when he made an emergency landing in thick jungle. Viet Cong were closing in on their crash position so they had to blow the wreckage and haul ass to a passing combat patrol. The crash shattered his left kneecap leaving him out of action for the rest of the war, however in the years after it had made a full recovery. The 'Heavy Hog' was a light gunship role helicopter, though it didn't have the necessary armaments to engage heavy armor, it could at least engage infantry and to a point, light armor. Its chin mounted grenade launcher allowed for explosive rounds to be put down for quite a range, and its dumb rocket pods could shock any infantryman on the ground close enough to even hear it. This particular helicopter had been customized with a snarling 'shark mouth' painted on the nose, possibly the most iconic design to be used on any aircraft ever. Currently it was being looked over by a couple of airmen, one holding a clipboard was scribbling down notes while others shouted things to him from various parts of the craft. The Helicopter looked almost brand new without any signs of wear or tear on it, if it had seen service then they had done one hell of a job fixing it up.

"What's she looking like then?" A different voice faded in from behind Thomas, the voice of his Crew Cheif, Desmond Jackson, an African American fellow with quite a large frame for somebody in the Air Force, he wouldn't look out of place in a boxing ring or wrestling cage. The large man handed both Thomas and Micheal a paper cup of coffee, Micheal of which accepted it like it was a priceless treasure or the holy grail.

"Not too shabby. See that Forty Mike Mike on the nose?" Thomas grinned and gently blew the steam off the frothing coffee, he hated the stuff personally but it kept him alert.

"Yeh. I'd like to see those Ruskies scatted when that thing rips up" Jackson replied with glee.

"Where the hell is Preston anyway" Thomas remarked, noticing he wasn't attached to Jacksons hip like he usually was, the pair were inseparable.

"Somewhere, chasing up with old friends i think"

by **Australian Antarctica** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:53 pm

The Major looked as the last two Platoon commanders entered the tent. One was the German who's unit had been massacred, meaning he was merely a helper to the other commanders until he could get reinforcements, while the other was the Italian in charge of the Howitzer Battery. Clearing his throat, the Frenchman spoke "Good day gentlemen. As you all know, the Soviets have broken through the lines. The Finns to the north are surrounded and are unable to assist us. To make matters worse, a Soviet Armored Battalion is racing towards the city. You all know they have recon units scouting the town, as we have engaged them just yesterday. Now, what I need are strategies. What have you all thought of?" he turned to the Englishman who he'd unofficially made his second in command, due to his excellent strategical mind "Harrison, what are your thoughts?"

by **Totulga** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 4:22 pm

WO-3 Berger, Sharla was idling the helicopter on the acid pad that had been allocated to the companys’ air support assets. The wind was cool and stronger than expected, it would change a lot of her flying options and require additional adjustments from her weapons officer. The sky was pretty good for flying though and she looked forward to getting up there and giving the Soviets a good one for.

Her weapons officer WO-2 Legg, Anastacia was giving over her weapons check one at a time. “20mm cannon, check. Hydra rocket pods, check. ITOWs’, check.” She mumbled each one to herself. “So,” she said looking back in her seat, “Any idea what we should expect up there”?

Sharla replied over the headset, “from what I was told we have quite an exciting line up of Russian aircraft and triple A. It hasn’t all made it up to the front though so we should be able to have some fun before it’s too late.” She laid back into her seat and waited impatiently. This was it, their time to rise to the occasion or fall screaming into the night.

by **Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 4:23 pm

Harrison nodded, signalling that he'd understood the situation. A situation that was quite dire, too. But he wouldn't be himself if he hadn't kept a peaceful air of control around him. Yes, the odds were stacked against them, but panick wouldn't help them much further. As if he were engaged in a high-stakes game of chess, he looked at the map of the Greater Helsinki Region, putting his fingers to his chin. This game would become awfully difficult awfully soon, so he didn't take too much time. Those in the tent could nearly see the cogs in his head twist and turn as his eyes darted from left to right. Finally, he began, speaking in his normal voice. There was something easy about it, something that betrayed a feeling of rest about him. His hand moved around the map as he spoke, and he spoke swiftly.

''Right...'' He began. ''Right now, our main objective is to hold the airfield at all costs. The Soviets will use any landable surface to get supplies and troops in, so holding this position is the only way to deny our enemies additional strength. Yet, the more time passes, the more I feel that our position is impossible. Had we more troops, more tanks, more guns, more defenses... I would have given us more of a chance. Truth is, if the Soviets get tanks between us and the city, we can forget about Finland. We can forget about the 4th. They can roll over us as if they were a wave, and we a sugar cube.''

Swiftly, he drew forth another map, this time of the centre of Helsinki. It had dotted marks and crosses all over it, the way James liked to personalise his maps. Perfectly understandable for him, but rubbish to any other officer. He tried to explain all that was written, at his own pace. Not a slow one, too.

''Helsinki itself is a golden nugget for defensive tactics. The peninsula is only approachable through a slim land corridor, no more than a kilometer wide. All other roads, bridges, tunnels, can be blown up. We control the water, so there should be no fear from the sea. If we dig in there, we can hold back the tanks for hours, if not days. Under siege, but protected by the sea''

From the bottom of the stack, another map appeared. This one had only a few lines on it, with a vague outline of the city. It looked susiciously like the London subway. Because it was the Helsinki subway.

''These tunnel systems are ideal for maintaining Helsinki under siege. Food, munitions and fuel can be safely stored there. Through them, we can make covert movements, and save our troops during shelling. A Finnish officer told me about them, they were planned to open in June this year. Seems we'll open them sooner''

With a flick of his hand, the Greater Area Map was on top again. With his right little finger, he pointed at the airport, drawing a line to the city. He looked intently at the other soliders, and his voice turned graver and deeper. The real problems started there.

''The trick is...'' He began, putting his arm on the table and leaning on it. ''... is to get all our strength from here to the city before the Soviets can respond. Their tanks are fast, but they don't know the terrain and the roads yet. We do. The Finns do. I say, we use our mortars to shell main enemy concentrations to the North. A few sections will engage in skirmishes, trying to keep casualities to a minimum. A feigned attack. When the Soviet armour moves to attack our feigned manouvre, we set the forest ablaze with some fuel and a flame thrower before we retreat like hell. What can't be taken, we'll burn or boobytrap. We'll render the airfield unusable before leaving, of course. That way, we can defend a beach head, maybe for long enough to get some supplies and troops.''

He leaned back, putting up the collar of his jacket and putting his cap closer over his eyes. His hands he buried in his pockets, they had grown red with cold due to the long exposure to the elements. He looked around, but mostly at the major.

''Anyway'' he concluded ''that's my plan. It's not optimistic, but there is not a lot more we can do. Staying here will doom us and the city.''

by **Military Democracy of Birtonia** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 5:34 pm

Staff Sergeant Michael Picante
3rd Squad,1st Platoon, 4th Combined Arms Company
NATO Expeditionary Force

The cold wind was harsh against the men of third squad, as most of them were from warmer parts of the states. Picante was from California, along with Privates Lewis, Nixon, and Murphy. Fields and Fox were both good ole boys from Texas, while Montana and Hall were from Florida. Hendrix and Loyola weren't originally from Hawaii but that's where they had lived most of their life before coming here.

The men were talking amongst themselves while they took a break in building the fortifications the city so desperately needed. Lieutenant Harrison was due to return today, no doubt their orders would change shortly upon his arrival. Lewis Storm and Richard Fox had become fast friends once they were assigned to the NATO mission, the pair sat back on some of the sandbags they just finished.

Lewis reached into his pocket for some cigarettes and handed one to Richard.

"Ya hear second platoon got wiped out?" Lewis said, exhaling the smoke.

"No shit.... Were it then Huh?" Replied Dick looking at the burning embers in his hand.

Michael observed his men from a distance, standing on some rubble, feeling the Nordic wind blow through his coarse black hair. Most of his squad was pretty unkempt too, long scraggly hair, and lots of facial hair coming in. None of that mattered to him personally, they were at war, they didn't have time to shave and the little water they had needed to be drank. He walked up to his troops with confidence, as any leader should exude.

"Look don't you guys worry about that alright," he began to explain " the navy out there's holding them back with just a handful of ships. Now we gotta show these Europeans how Americans do it!"

The men all laughed and finished their cigarettes and went back to work.

by **The United Federation of Terrans** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 6:52 pm

"Sir we can't defend the city," Cooper said as he moved to the table. "We can't dig in, they outnumber and outgun us. We need to keep mobile and chew away at them, stretch them thin prevent a frontline from forming. We have four humvees with us that have TOW launchers mounted, they can destroy tanks; we can hide them before hand and use them as hit and run tactics, the infantry can move from building to building and engage detached units, the tanks can wait in the forests and hit the enemy as they come and then pull back. But as soon as we remain still we die. That's the plain and simple fact sir, we'll run out of bullets before they run out of bodies."

by **Australian Antarctica** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 7:47 pm

The United Federation of Terrans wrote:"Sir we can't defend the city," Cooper said as he moved to the table. "We can't dig in, they outnumber and outgun us. We need to keep mobile and chew away at them, stretch them thin prevent a frontline from forming. We have four humvees with us that have TOW launchers mounted, they can destroy tanks; we can hide them before hand and use them as hit and run tactics, the infantry can move from building to building and engage detached units, the tanks can wait in the forests and hit the enemy as they come and then pull back. But as soon as we remain still we die. That's the plain and simple fact sir, we'll run out of bullets before they run out of bodies."

Fabron shot the American a stare filled with contempt "We can't defend the city? Can't? What kind of talk is that! As for the Humvess you speak of, they were destroyed two weeks ago in an ambush if you recall, or do you Americans just not pay attention to casualties like usual? I like Harrison's plan, it can work. What you are suggesting has too many variables that can go wrong. If we pull the Soviets into the city, we can funnel their forces where we want them, set ambushes for them. Slowly bleed them dry. All we need to do is establish air superiority, and that can be done in the next day or two. A Finnish patrol stumbled across the Soviet AAA position but managed to avoid a confrontation. I'll have Harrison's platoon take them out soon. Now, any better ideas than 'Hit 'n Run?" the Frenchman made the last part sound extra yokel to emphasize the sheer stupidity he thought the Americans possessed.

by **Tayner** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 8:13 pm

Australian Antarctica wrote:Fabron shot the American a stare filled with contempt "We can't defend the city? Can't? What kind of talk is that! As for the Humvess you speak of, they were destroyed two weeks ago in an ambush if you recall, or do you Americans just not pay attention to casualties like usual? I like Harrison's plan, it can work. What you are suggesting has too many variables that can go wrong. If we pull the Soviets into the city, we can funnel their forces where we want them, set ambushes for them. Slowly bleed them dry. All we need to do is establish air superiority, and that can be done in the next day or two. A Finnish patrol stumbled across the Soviet AAA position but managed to avoid a confrontation. I'll have Harrison's platoon take them out soon. Now, any better ideas than 'Hit 'n Run?" the Frenchman made the last part sound extra yokel to emphasize the sheer stupidity he thought the Americans possessed.

"You do realize that Lieutenant Cooper is Canadian, right? And, personally, I expected more professional behavior from a French Major. Now, since we have a fix on the Soviet triple A position, I say we disable it so we can gain air superiority first. Then we follow Harrison's plan, with our air assets covering us. Without our air support, or naval support, we wouldn't be able to hold the city for a day. " Schmidt said, and then took a sip of his coffee.

by **Australian Antarctica** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 8:14 pm

Tayner wrote:
Australian Antarctica wrote:Fabron shot the American a stare filled with contempt "We can't defend the city? Can't? What kind of talk is that! As for the Humvess you speak of, they were destroyed two weeks ago in an ambush if you recall, or do you Americans just not pay attention to casualties like usual? I like Harrison's plan, it can work. What you are suggesting has too many variables that can go wrong. If we pull the Soviets into the city, we can funnel their forces where we want them, set ambushes for them. Slowly bleed them dry. All we need to do is establish air superiority, and that can be done in the next day or two. A Finnish patrol stumbled across the Soviet AAA position but managed to avoid a confrontation. I'll have Harrison's platoon take them out soon. Now, any better ideas than 'Hit 'n Run?" the Frenchman made the last part sound extra yokel to emphasize the sheer stupidity he thought the Americans possessed.

"You do realize that Lieutenant Cooper is Canadian, right? And, personally, I expected more professional behavior from a French Major. Now, since we have a fix on the Soviet triple A position, I say we disable it so we can gain air superiority first. Then we follow Harrison's plan, with our air assets covering us. Without our air support, or naval support, we wouldn't be able to hold the city for a day. " Schmidt said, and then took a sip of his coffee.

The Frenchman nodded "I apologize, I always get mixed up. Your accents always are so similar. And yes, what you are suggesting is exactly what I was thinking. Good, glad to know some people here can actually plan and can be optimistic"

by **Tayner** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 8:19 pm

Australian Antarctica wrote:
Tayner wrote:"You do realize that Lieutenant Cooper is Canadian, right? And, personally, I expected more professional behavior from a French Major. Now, since we have a fix on the Soviet triple A position, I say we disable it so we can gain air superiority first. Then we follow Harrison's plan, with our air assets covering us. Without our air support, or naval support, we wouldn't be able to hold the city for a day. " Schmidt said, and then took a sip of his coffee.

The Frenchman nodded "I apologize, I always get mixed up. Your accents always are so similar. And yes, what you are suggesting is exactly what I was thinking. Good, glad to know some people here can actually plan and can be optimistic"

"Great. Now that we have our battle plan worked out, I suggest we start sooner then later. The more time we waste, the more time the Russians have to close in on us." Schmidt said. He reviewed the maps one more time, and looked back to the Major. "Where exactly is the Ruskie Triple A?" He asked. The Major didn't actually show them.

by **Australian Antarctica** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 8:21 pm

Tayner wrote:
Australian Antarctica wrote:The Frenchman nodded "I apologize, I always get mixed up. Your accents always are so similar. And yes, what you are suggesting is exactly what I was thinking. Good, glad to know some people here can actually plan and can be optimistic"

"Great. Now that we have our battle plan worked out, I suggest we start sooner then later. The more time we waste, the more time the Russians have to close in on us." Schmidt said. He reviewed the maps one more time, and looked back to the Major. "Where exactly is the Ruskie Triple A?" He asked. The Major didn't actually show them.

"They are operating in a two square klick area three klicks west of here" the Major pointed to a clearing in the forest west of the city "Should be a rather short hike, not taking more than an hour. Harrison, is your platoon ready for this?"

by **The United Federation of Terrans** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 8:38 pm

Australian Antarctica wrote:
Tayner wrote:"Great. Now that we have our battle plan worked out, I suggest we start sooner then later. The more time we waste, the more time the Russians have to close in on us." Schmidt said. He reviewed the maps one more time, and looked back to the Major. "Where exactly is the Ruskie Triple A?" He asked. The Major didn't actually show them.

"They are operating in a two square klick area three klicks west of here" the Major pointed to a clearing in the forest west of the city "Should be a rather short hike, not taking more than an hour. Harrison, is your platoon ready for this?"

"Sir if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare my men." With that Cooper gave a salute and exited the tent at a stead jog as he moved back to his platoon. His gunner saw him first and approached Cooper as the officer came to a stop.

"Sir we have a supply issue here, we're short eight Sabot rounds and four HE rounds." Phelps said as he gestured towards the tank behind him.

"We don't have time for that Phelp's, mount up. Fletcher how we doing on fuel?" Cooper asked as he clambered onto the tank turret to talk to his lounging driver.

"Topped off sir" Fletcher said as he began to scoot down to his open drivers' compartment.

"Excellent, start her up." Cooper turned his attention to his platoon who went around resupplying their armored vehicles. "Let's go people, we're rolling out!!!!!!"

This caused an added urgency to the organized chaos as tanker's and mechanics ran two and from prepping their tanks for travel as Fletcher ignited the Leopard's engines with a growl as Phelps and COle drooped into their positions next to the gun while Cooper stood waist deep in the command hatch resting on the .50 as the tank broke away from the small camp to the city and the killing grounds beyond.

by **Tayner** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 9:04 pm

"I'm going to get my men ready too, sir." Schmidt said, and gave the Major a salute. He sipped the last of his coffee and placed the mug back next to the pot of coffee. He jogged out of the HQ, and he returned to his tank platoon, and geared up.

"We're short a few HE rounds, but we're otherwise fine sir." His gunner Adam reported to him.

"Good. Top off the tank, we're going on a patrol on the outskirts. Harrison's going after the triple A and were pulling back afterwards with air covering our asses." He hollered to his men. "Mount up!" The soldiers scrambled to their tanks, and Frank hopped into the comand hatch, and racked the .50 cal. He put on his helmet and ordered. "Roll out, we're heading to the outskirts to make sure the Ruskies don't get too far."

The ride to the outskirts was short. The tank column was patrolling the area and looking for any sign of Russian movement. Schmidt's tank was second in line. The tank on point saw a vehicle further down the road. "Soviet UAZ, recon, on my twelve!" The commander reported, and the gunner fired his coaxial gun, and the commander fired his .50. The vehicle was shredded, and the occupants were full of holes.

A few minutes later, the column spotted a small recon infantry unit, across a small nature park. They column was in position where all but the rear tank could fire on the Russians. They fired their machine guns, saving their shells for heavier targets. "RPG!" One of the tank commanders shouted. The rocket flew by, barely missing the third tank, but another smacked into the lead tanks armor. "Lead Badger, status!" One of the commanders said, and they replied. "All fine, our armor held." The infantry was in retreat, and the tanks returned to the city, having killed at least a dozen Ruskies.

by **Dubrovka** » Wed Jul 22, 2015 10:36 pm

Staff Sergeant Micheal Dewalt
2rd Squad,1st Platoon, 4th Combined Arms Company
NATO Expeditionary Force

Micheal watched his cold breath slip out of his mouth and into the Nordic air. The plume of warm breath lingered for a short moment in front of him before it was swept away by a crisp Finnish wind. He zipped his cold weather coat up a little more and pulled over his hood. Even though he was still in the FOB, it was colder than where he had grown up in Minnesota. He turned and slowly walked back into his squads tent, on the far edge of the FOB. He pushed open the canvas tent flap and stepped inside. It was much warmer in the tent thanks to the heater, and this he liked heavily. Inside the tent was his squad, all milling about, playing cards, talking tough, and keeping the spirits up. Micheal could clearly tell who was in which squad by where they were sitting. On the left of the tent, all playing cards, was Alpha Team. Lead by Corporal John Inga, a young, friendly Texan who was a great leader in battle, Micheal trusted Alpha team. On the far side of the tent was Bravo Team, Led by a comedian Irishman Sergeant Mack Mcdougal, who was the one going around, joking, keeping the squads spirits up in, and out of battle. On the left side of the tent was Charlie Team, not talking much beyond what was necessary to hold a conversation. Lead by Corporal Don Timo, a quiet type from the East Coast who wasn't all too friendly, mostly staying at arms reach. Micheal knew he cared about his men however, and he would do anything in battle to keep them safe.

Micheal, in short, trusted his squad to keep each other and themselves safe during battle, knowing they would need all the skill, trust, and luck they could get in the upcoming days. Micheal, shivering to his bones managed to say "M-m-men, Prepare t-to move o-out. Co-Command has g-got something brewing". His men then grumbled and made ready their packs and grabbed the supplies they would need. Micheal did his own share of preparing, finding his M16A1 and throwing on his heavy backpack. He then found his steel helmet and threw that on, which when touched to his ears made them freeze. All metal in this kind of enviornment needs to be lined by something, or is going to be unable to touch. Same was done with rifles, but most men had lined the parts where they held onto their rifles with cloth and fur to keep their hands from freezing. In short, this hellish enviornment was more cold and inhospitale to fight in than the arctic, even though this was supposedly the Finnish spring. Micheal told his men to hold tight and stay warm with their gear until all the preprations were made. Micheal made it very clear that he wouldn't want his men to stay in the bone-chilling cold any longer than they had to.

by **Sarejo** » Thu Jul 23, 2015 8:01 am

1Sgt. Hansman approached 2Lt. Cooper, who was gearing up to head into the city.

"Lieutenant," he quickly snapped off a salute, which the lieutenant returned, "if you're heading into the city, would you mind if my boys got a ride on your tanks?"

by **Australian Antarctica** » Thu Jul 23, 2015 9:59 am

The Major looked over the remaining COs "Harrison, get out there and take out those guns. The rest of you get ready to move out. We are all going at our own paces to make sure the Soviets stay confused. You all have to be out of here by the 14th though, that's when we are going ahead with Harrison's plan. Until then, rest, rearm, and get ready. I have a feeling we are going to be fighting harder than usual here. Dismissed"

40 Miles East of Helsinki
The Soviet Armored Column was lost. They'd taken a wrong turn a few miles back and were somewhere in the middle of the expansive Finnish forests. To make matters worse, they'd lost contact with the Recon unit they'd sent ahead to the city. They were all probably dead. The Soviet Commander looked over the map, trying to figure out where the hell he was. After a long while of searching the confusing mix of dirt trails and paved roads, he managed to plot a route back to the city. It would take them another three days to get there. Three days to give the Finns and NATO troops time to prepare.

by **The United Federation of Terrans** » Thu Jul 23, 2015 10:18 am

Sarejo wrote:1Sgt. Hansman approached 2Lt. Cooper, who was gearing up to head into the city.

"Lieutenant," he quickly snapped off a salute, which the lieutenant returned, "if you're heading into the city, would you mind if my boys got a ride on your tanks?"

Lt. Cooper realized how cliched they looked as he and his column rolled into town with a squad of infantry riding the armored vehicles like this was WWII.Infantry sat on the front of the slightly sloped armor and on the tank's turret while cooper stood in his commander's hatch with the .50 angled towards the sky.

"Here's your stop." Cooper said as he signaled the column to halt to allow the infantrymen to disembark. He prepared to move out before he gave a bit of wisdom to the infantry officer. "Remember, your LAW's won't penetrate a tank's frontal armor; aim for the treads. Keep yourself safe out there"

Hammer Actual to Hammer Platoon cooper said as the column pulled away into the city. Find an area with overhead cover and hide your tanks there. Get ready to move on my signal.

Cooper had by that time broken his tank off and ordered his driver to take the massive vehicle into a bus garage. The massive turbines growled as Cole eased the massive war machine rear end first into the garage and killed the engines to conserve their fuel.

"Load HEAT round" Cooper commanded as he sat back in his commander's hatch so only the top of his helmet and eyes were visible; below him he heard the clang of the breech being opened and the HE round being withdrawn and replaced with the desired round.

"HEAT loaded" Fletcher reported form below as the breech slammed shut again.

Hammer Actual in position Cooper reported into his radio as he waited for the signal to move. Until then he was staying under cover to avoid any artillery or aircraft who would love to knock out one of NATO's few tanks.

by **Argyllst** » Thu Jul 23, 2015 10:43 am

Paige, began looking round the FOB for Lt. Schmidt.

Jack was an Ohio-man himself so he was used to cold. He always had a fascination with Armoured vehicles. During training he was known for his tank being the best maintained in the platoon. He had never seen action but now it was imminent. His crew was as new as him, all three of then were fresh out of training but they had bonded like super glue in the short space of 3 weeks.

by **Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States** » Thu Jul 23, 2015 10:46 am

“Aye, sir. 1st Platoon will do as asked. I’ll move out with them as soon as possible. I’ll give you a signal when the AA has been taken offline, you won’t be able to miss it.”

He saluted and immediately moved out of the tent. He would love to stay and talk some more about the plans, explaining more about the maps and just having a chat with Pierre. Alas, time was of the essence, and one of the resources they lacked most. The chat would have to wait, perhaps until after the battle. Perhaps until after the war. And perhaps, they would have to live out their lives before they would meet again. James tried not to think too much about the actual fighting as he walked out into the cold. And boy, was it cold. Inside the tent, he’d stood out of the wind. But outside… He drew up his collar and buried his hands deeper in his pockets. The ends of his long winter coat flapped about and didn’t offer much protection to his legs, a fault in design he immediately recognised.

Now to gather the men for the assault. Harrison had four sections under him. He used to have three, all-British sections, but the war had forced them to consolidate their manpower. He now commanded one section of Scots, nicknamed ‘Jacobites’, and two sections of Americans, who called themselves ‘squads’. Harrison had never liked the name, but he had more to worry about than what the Americans called their sections. Like what the Americans called their lieutenants. God, he hated the term they used. Walking towards the edge of the forest, where he knew he would find the Jacobites, he couldn’t help but look up. The sky was blue, as blue as the sky was back home in York. It was the same sky that had watched him plant many a seed in his garden. Now, there would be little planting of seeds for quite some time, Harrison realised. The thought made him shiver more than the cold.

“Morning Donald” he said, jumping into the trench at the edge of the forest. He tried to have a casual way about him, hiding the fact that he was quite anxious for what was about to unfold. His plan could save or condemn about 200 men, and more civilians, if it failed. It could save a nation if it worked to the fullest. In-between the two were only different shades of grey. Corporal Donald Alpin jumped up from his crouched position, and gave a salute. The lieutenant was a good man, but he did insist upon proper protocol. Although they were considered friends, he would never call him anything other than ‘sir’ while on duty.

“Goodmornin’, sir” Donald replied, not even trying to hide his Glaswegian accent. It was one of the things his section took pride in. “Nothing to report so far, sir. Boris has kept quiet for today. Seems they’re having a rest or somethin’. Can’t say I disapprove either. Better than some Yuri trying to blow yer brains out, that’s for sure”

James smiled. Talking to Donald always cheered him up a little, even during the hardest of times. The two had met during an exercise in Norway, when Harrison was but a corporal. There, with their knees in the snow, Donald had made his week. His constant cheerfulness and happy, carefree nature dragged James through many a rough night, and the two had remained close ever-after. The fact that Donald had a pronounced accent didn’t weigh against him, either. James especially liked his special ‘R’s’. It pained him all the more that he had to relay the orders from the major.

“Listen, Donald…” he began, looking around to make sure no-one was within ear shot. Luckily, the men of the 1st squad were spread thing along the trench, and most were minding their business.

“The major and the lieutenants have concluded that our current position is not viable. We’re going to head for the city itself soon, after destroying what’s left of the airfield.”

Donald nodded, and was quick with a reply.

“Ahh, I have always wanted to visit Helsinki, sir. Beautiful city, my old man always told me. Shame we have to blow up the airfield, though. I have become quite attached to the place. One more day, I would’ve begun naming the trees.”

James laughed again, a genuine laugh of joy. God, Donald could always see the bright side of any situation. Somehow, him joking around helped him escape from the gritty, harsh reality of war. He felt like, if one could joke on the situation, how bad could it really be. Still giggling a bit, he disclosed his orders to Donald.

“It seems we won’t be moving to Helsinki directly, though. Napoleon has ordered us to take care of some AA to the south west. They’re covering our area, and are making sure our helicopters can’t escape. Carrier support can’t reach us until those damn rockets are taken care of, and we have been chose for the task.”

Napoleon was a nickname James had made for the major, which had caught on quite readily among his sections. It was a very neutral nickname, maybe even a positive one. So positive, in fact, that James had begun sing it instead of Pierre’s regular name. Only when talking directly to the major, he used the proper terms. He would never call a superior officer by a nickname in his face. That was unbecoming. He continued with his orders.

“We’ll move out as soon as dusk will allow us to move undetected. We should reach the AA at down, if we get a move on. Would you be so kind as to inform sergeant Dewalt? I’ll go to sergeant Picante. We assemble at eight, at the westernmost gate of the compound. Make sure everyone is dressed for a nightly march.”

Donald nodded, and said no more. He too now knew that time was of the essence. While the lieutenant scrambled to get out of the trench, Donald began collecting his men, in his typical fashion. James could hear some of it, slowly fading as he moved away.

“Alright, ladies. Gather round, gather round. The emperor has bidden us to do our holy duties. Here’s the deal…”

James’ smile slowly vanished, though, as he moved up to the 3rd section under his command. Americans all, from some of the warmer states of the Union. He had read all of their documents. Ages, ranks, home towns he had all memorised quite readily. One was from California, another lived in Hawaii… in other words, people who had nothing to do with the Nordic could they were in. While the lieutenant approached, he could hear their staff sergeant talking some strength into them.

“Now we gotta show these Europeans how Americans do it!” he heard him say, while his men cheered him on. Harrison coughed twice, before putting his hands behind his back. He had his cap drawn almost entirely across his eyes, giving him more of an imposing posture. A true officer.

“With a lot of wasted rounds and a lot of explosions, I fathom” he answered the question. He didn’t wait for an answer. Again, time. Time was what he needed.

“Which is something I can actually use right now, believe it or not. Sergeant, a moment of your time, please?” he asked, as he gestured away from the rest of the squad. It was up to the sergeant to inform the troops, he knew how to do it best.

The Red Tide: A WW3 Tactical RP(IC, Closed)

The Red Tide: A WW3 Tactical RP(IC, Closed)

Who is online