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

[Armeia]

"We have orders to retreat," said Leon, over the radio channel for his squad. "Julian, Ray, Morris, pull out, the rest of us are waiting on your group. We can't hold the position much longer also, if you have a chance to block a road on your way back, do it."

"Yes sir, over and out," replied Julian, who was leading a group that was supporting the main squad.

"Hey Ray, tell the trucks to get ready," ordered Leon, running a hand through his brown hair. "We're leaving to Helsinki as soon as the others get back."

Five minutes later, gunshots erupted in the distance and the men raised their rifles. "What the...?" started Leon, raising his own gun. It seemed that there were a few Soviets chasing the second group as they headed back, but the firefight ended as fast as it began. "What was that about?"

"Probably commies chasing the others," muttered Luke. "I see them coming right now, they must have killed 'em."

"Good, there's no time to waste. Let's move out."

[Dubrovka]

Micheal rallied his troops outside 2nd squads tent and took roll call, all being present. They did a short go over of what gear they should have and everything checked out. They walked over to the briefing area where the British Lieutenant was already cussing out another American Squad. Micheal hated when people disliked a certain country just because of their stereotypes. He had his men fall in by team and take an at ease position. He walked over to the Lieutenant, saluted and said "Second Squad, First Platoon reporting in combat gear as ordered, ready to show the commies their worth sir".

[Australian Antarctica]

Soviet AAA Battery
6 ZSU-23-4s sat in a semi circle in the small clearing, their crews scanning for all threats. They believed themselves to be invincible, able to fend off any air attacks and not having to worry about attacks from the ground, seeing as the western soldiers are occupied with the armor at their doorstep. In fact, they were so confident they didn't have much in the way of infantry protection, barely a squad was deployed to defend them from any attackers. And on this moonless night they were especially venerable, with none of the infantry having night vision gear. It seemed everything was going right for once, at least for the soldiers of 1st Platoon, 4th Combined Arms Company. The only threat to the success of the mission was one of the vehicles radioing for reinforcements or the the few machine guns scattered throughout the lines opening up.

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

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


Michael instantly heard the unmistakable voice of his current platoon leader behind him. A few of the boys snickered at the officers response but ensured to keep quiet and keep working on their fortifications. He turned and gave a sloppy salute to the officer, shivering a bit from the frigid winds that blew by.

"Morning sir" he said calmly said ignoring the officers tone and remark about Americans.

His interest was piqued when the officer asked for a moment of his time, especially since he wasn't used to being commanded by NATO forces. It had been sometime since his squad was plucked from the 3rd Infantry Division of the US army to serve in this experimental unit. It wasn't bad, fighting with other nations. The only thing that was apparently a problem was his American arrogance that he carried quite proudly even. He followed right behind his lieutenant, scanning around as he walked, you never knew what would come at you next.

"Well sir? What's up?" he asked the officer, quizically.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

“Don’t worry, Michael, I’m not going to bite you” Harrison began, walking along with the sergeant. He walked until he was outside of earshot of the rest of the section before speaking, and made sure his back was turned to them at all times. Some of the soldiers knew how to read lips, and he couldn’t use those jokers getting all information right now. They needed to move quickly, again. When they were far away enough, James placed his hands behind his back and stared blankly into the forest, never turning his head. It was like he was talking to himself, just with the sergeant next to him.

“The truth is, sergeant… We probably won’t be able to hold this airfield after all. Boris has too many tanks in the area. Too many troops. This airfield is just sitting here, in the middle of nowhere. If we stay here, we’ll be brushed away like dust in the wind. Therefore…”

He took a pocket-sized map from his coat and folded it open. On it was the greater Helsinki area, with the airfield at the top.

“…4th company will move down south to Helsinki and dig in there. It will prove more defensible than this open field, for sure. There is just one tiny problem”

His finger pointed at six red dots in the forest to the west of their position. Half a day’s march away, it seemed, with tiny red scribbles next to them.

“Our air support and helicopters won’t be able to move anywhere until these AAA’s are out of the picture. That is where we come in. 1st platoon is to gather her strength to move due west. Marching will commence this evening, under cover of night. At first light of dawn, we will begin a raid on the position, taking out as many Yuri’s as we can while preventing outside communications. With all said and done, we will permanently put those machines out of use. I trust you and your men know how to handle placing and detonating charges, don’t you?”

He folded the map again, replacing it in the inner pocket of his coat. His hands buried themselves deep into his pockets, as a new gust of wind took them by surprise. His voice became a little deeper, a little more worried.

“We gather at the western gate at 2000 hours tonight. Make sure your men are aware of their objective, and that they are ready for a night’s marching. This has to go spotless if we want to survive the week”

Just as he finished that sentence, 2nd squad sergeant Dewalt approached him. He clearly had gotten the word from Donald, as his men seemed to be packed and ready to go. Initiative, this the lieutenant liked. He told the sergeant the exact thing he’d told Picante before, including the time and the rally point. After finishing telling the story for the second time, he looked at both his sergeants.

“Now, are there any questions you want to ask me? Besides if I like coffee of tea better, of course. That should be obvious”

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

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

As soon as Lieutenant Harrison began speaking, Michael perked up and listened. This was unusual that the officer was both calm and joking back with him, usually it appeared as if he hated him. He noticed they were at the edge of their AO, at the edge of the forest surrounding the field, the LT looked on into the woods as he spoke to Michael. He was not surprised that the unit was not going to hold the field they stood at, he knew that the other platoon was decimated not too long ago. Harrison then produced a map from his pocket and began pointing to areas and explaining things to Michael. He looked at the terrain around Helsinki and knew it was going to be tough to hold the city, in addition there was good terrain around the Soviet anti-air battery.

Michael took a mental note of the terrain features that he could see, ensuring that he would be able to maneuver in the case of his superiors being killed or otherwise incapacitated. Yet another Nordic blast blew over the pair, making him tuck his neck into the field jacket and shouldered his M16 so that he could shove his hands into his pockets.

"Of course we know how to blow shit up sir, you know we operate pretty standard with our regular army right? We have a demo team sir." he explained to the officer.

Once the officer was done briefing him, he saluted again and looked at the officer, saying "Yeah roger sir, we're good to go....and when is tea time?" with a smile.

He walked back over to his squad and called out, "Hey listen up!"

His men stopped what they were doing and stood up looking towards their squad leader.

"We're moving out. Tonight at 2000 hours, we won't be coming back here so pack your rucks up. The target is about ten to twelve hours of a ruck, its a Soviet anti-air battery. After that we're moving to Helsinki to defend it against the reds, third squad is tasked with blowing the guns, so, Nixon, you got the charges ok?" he said as he began to give the orders to his men.

There was a hustle as the men began their priorities of work, starting with securing their weapons, ammo, and explosives. A few hours of weapon maintenance would occur before Picante conducted a shake down, ensuring every man had all the required equipment they would need, for the raid, the ruck, and finally the defense of Helsinki itself. He knew the next week would be rough for his men, but he was confident in their abilities to adapt and overcome the situation.

[Independent States of Tula]

Hammer 1, Oberfeldwebel Heinrich Gunther, Helinski...

"When I joined the armored corps...I never thought it would involve so much shoveling of frozen ground." Unteroffizier Axel Bauers stated in German, pausing to breath in the middle after throwing more dirt and snow onto the pile being made by the tank crew of four.

All four men wore their heavy winter clothing, their "Moleskin" West German uniforms making them stand out from the other soldiers in Helinski.

As Heinrich threw another shovel-full of dirt onto the pile he replied also in German "Would you rather have Klara be destroyed because she was Hull-Up or live because we had a nice pile of dirt to keep us Hull-Down?"

The loader,Wilhelm, added "The Commander makes a good point Axel. We're here on the right flank by the lake, got good shots on the bridge, can hit any sneaky bastards trying to circumvent the lake before they can us thanks to the 120 Mike-Mike. Honestly, Klara is such a beauty that so long as the Soviets are using T-55s and T-62s we should be fine. We out range them quite well with this baby."

The gunner, Menno, however dampened the mood by saying "However if they are using T-72s then we have a big firefight on our hands. We both have equal ranges...though our Thermals give us an advantage in spotting them quicker."

"No matter what the Soviets throw at us, we'll repel it my friends...we'll kick those red bastards right in the nuts. And this time we'll win." Heinrich said determinedly.", the rest of his crew just silently agreed as they went back to shoveling the frozen dirt to give them cover to hide behind when the battle would start...if it did of course instead of the Soviets just bypassing them and sieging the city.

[Dubrovka]

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

Micheal was pulled aside by the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant spoke to him a little bit about the future plans, about how the unit couldn't hold the city, a fact that Micheal expected. He then pulled a map and showed him what the first platoon was doing. They were going to head towards a Soviet Tripe A battery and eliminate it to give the 4th Combined Arms Company a safe airspace to fly in. The Lieutenant explained the importance of eliminating the Triple A, as their air support may be the saving grace of the Company when the shit really hit the fan. Micheal understood this, the little air support the company had would probably be enough to take out a couple soviet tanks if not hold them off long enough to evacuate Helsinki if need be.

When the Lieutenant was finished, he asked Micheal if he had any questions. Micheal replied "No sir. Taking out that triple A will be overall a huge benefit to our boys in the air. My squad will gather at the gate at 2000 as requested in full combat gear with detonating charges, and yes, we do know how to use them. Keep on rockin in the free world, right sir?".

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

“I prefer ‘God save the queen’ myself, sergeant” Harrison said half-jokingly, responding to the final remark of the NCO. He patted the man on the shoulder. He continued; “But yeah, keep on rocking”

Then, he turned around, and started walking in the other direction, whistling Neil Young’s ‘Hey hey, my my’ as he walked down the airfield. He checked his watch. He would have a few hours before 2000, so he decided to take a small walk through the woods. He went just far enough to lose vision of the airfield, just far enough for a small moment of peace and quiet. The last one he would have before moving out, before the war would start for him. He found a tree stump he could sit on, and so he did. He found a piece of paper in his coat, A4 size, which he had not used for any of his map-making and report-writing. Also from his coat, he took a pen, which he clicked open with a push of his thumb. Then, he began to write.

“Dear pa and ma,

How are you doing? We’re doing great, so far. The city I am currently in, which I can’t name due to security reasons, is as beautiful as they say it is in the booklet, second drawer from the top, third booklet from the left. Page 18, if I recall correctly. I write to you because I might not be able to for a long while, and I am compelled to write a few words. First of all, they don’t make pudding half as good as ma does. However, they are good with a wrench and a screwdriver, something pa could learn one or two things from. Furthermore…”

1940 Hours
Western Compound Gate
Northern Helsinki
1st Platoon
‘Mending Clouded Skies’

Lieutenant Harrison pulled on the bolt of his L1A1 rifle, the standard issue British firearm, and took a peak in the mechanism. He saw it load one round into the chamber, which was slid in as soon as he released. That was probably a good thing, he thought to himself. There really wasn’t a lot he knew about firearms. Harrison wasn’t really a soldier by trade, he really was an officer. He wasn’t one for running through obstacle courses, for fire training and endless jogging around a field. His expertise was more in the commanding bit, where he could sit behind a desk with a map and some coloured pencils. Sometimes, however, duty called. This was the first time duty had called for him, though, and he was trying his best to hide his nerves all the way through. After he’d shouldered his rifle, corporal Alpin approached him with a vacuum flask and a paper cup. Steam emerged from the opening, something that James quite liked the sight of.

“Cuppa, sir?” Donald asked, holding a steaming cup of tea in front of the lieutenant. James nodded thankfully, and brought the cup to his lips. The hot steam warmed his face to a more agreeable temperature, which made his lips able to close around the base of the cup. He took a few warms sips.

“Thanks, Donald” he said, sighing a heavy sigh. “Are the Jacobites ready?”

Donald nodded. “They miss the Roundheads and the Cavaliers, of course. God knows where they are now. But they’re holding on tight. They won’t give in easily to any Englishman, that’s for sure”

Both men laughed a bit, drinking tea from their paper cups and looking out into the sky. Slowly, the sun was setting, and the air above coloured a blazing amber and red. The sun would set in about an hour, at which time James was planning on being on the road. He just had to wait for the signal from his sergeants, who were probably getting their men ready to go. The march would last at least two days, and they hadn’t had much time to prepare. Such was the reality of war, Harrison figured. At one moment, you might be relaxing in an officer’s lounge, the next, all hell would break loose. The army at war was a world of minutes and seconds, ever-changing and ever-going. James liked it, but had to get accustomed to it first. He turned to Donald.

“Donald… You still remember Norway, don’t you?”

Donald raised an eyebrow, but answered nonetheless.

“Aye, sir. Shoulder-deep in snow, nothing to keep us warm but the warm barrels of our machine guns. I seem to recall we used gunpowder from smashed-up rounds to start a fire. How so?”

James sighed with relief. Donald’s mind had twisted the facts a little more towards the extreme, but he still knew. That was a welcome thought.

“Well, while I was freezing my jimmies off in that trench, by which I mean ‘lower pile of snow’, complaining and wondering why anyone would want to live in a place like Norway, you were singing ‘Men of Harlech’ and joking that making an army of snowmen would make a good diversion. How do you do that? I need that lesson right about now.”

Donald didn’t respond immediately, like he normally would. The question probably took him by surprise, if nothing else. He thought for a moment before answering, taking a sip of tea in the meantime.

“Well…” he started, his voice unusually normal.

“First of all, an army of snowmen would make the perfect diversion. There’s my planning mind at work, sir.” He joked at first. Then, he continued on a more serious note.

“The world is a darn heavy place to live in, sir. We’ve got them poor kids in Africa starving their bellies out, children in Saigon burned by napalm and incendiaries… Our world is dominated by men who can push a big red button and vaporise all life on earth. Good god, someone is probably planning to do so right now. With the war starting, the War Cabinet, the Defence Secretary of the President, the Stavka High Command… That damn Frenchy in Paris, whatever his name is… They are all sending countless submarines around, trying to get into the best place to rain nuclear fire on their enemies. They would burn the world, if they could be king of the ashes. The world is a brutal place, sir. But there is hope! And it is that hope that I try to draw from. I try to enlarge the hope, see the light at the end of the tunnel and bring it closer. For if the day comes that I stop making fun of reality is the day all hope is lost. And you see, sir… You standing there with the gun safety standing halfway between ‘safe’ and ‘fire’ tells me we still have hope.”

James blushed for a moment, and quickly snapped the safety back to ‘safe’. He didn’t speak a word, but gave a thankful nod to his Scottish friend. There was hope after all. He looked at his watch. 1950. The others should begin arriving soon. Slowly, the sun was setting between the trees, and darkness encroached on them. Darkness would be their ally, although they were not born and moulded by it. James secretly wondered what would break first, should it happen one day. Their spirit? Or their body?

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

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

The heavy ALICE rucksack was flung up and over Michaels head landing on his back. He adjusted the shoulder straps to a more comfortable fit, as did the rest of his squad. They were trained to only wear the shoulder straps, they had quick release tabs in case they were ambushed. The sternum and waist straps helped even out the weight distribution, and made it comfortable to wear, but death was far worse than a heavy bag on your back. Michael looked at his watch, it read "19:42" which meant he had just enough time to get to the gate and conduct an equipment check.

The men all marched over in two columns to the gate, where they stood on both sides of the road. SSG Picante walked up and looked at the men.

"Men, time for PCC's and PCI's, team leaders, your show" he said.

With that the whole platoon conducted what were called pre combat checks and pre combat inspections. Things like ensuring each man had ammunition, food and water as well as their required equipment. Michael inspected his own equipment, ensuring that he was locked and loaded, he visually checked his magazines to make sure they were full. He reached down and pulled out his M1911 .45 handgun and pulled the slide back a bit to make sure there was one in the chamber. The radio was up, everyone had ammo, and the explosives were with the squad.

He looked over at the LT drinking a cup of tea and laughed.

"Ah right before missions is tea time eh Liuetenant?" He said jokingly.

[Dubrovka]

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

1930 Hours

"Alright men, were moving out. Grab your ALICE packs and M16A1s and lets get a move on. Fall in outside the tent in 5 minutes and prepare to march. Dismissed." Micheal said in a calm, almost caring tone. Within five minutes all teams were fallen in outside the tent in the freezing cold.

Micheal said "Alright, check your equipment, we may not be coming back for awhile. Make sure you have a full combat load, I don't want anyone carrying less than 30 pounds on their backs". All the men grumbled and checked their weapons and ALICE packs. They checked their web vests carrying their ammunition and other supplies. After about a minute, all Team Leaders reported that their fireteams were good to move out. Micheal signaled them to begin marching.

While they marched, one soldier, which happened in the end to be one of the Privates in Bravo Team, started chanting. In the bitter cold, the biting wind, a person chanting. At first, people were hesitant, but then they decided to chime in. The chanting of the freezing men could be heard at the gate they were marching too. As they marched, they chanted;

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free
While God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
While God is marching on.

The singing ceased as the men reached the west gate. Micheal checked his watch, it was 1940. Micheal found the Lieutenant drinking tea, saluted him and said "Sir, Bravo Squad reporting and freezing our fucking nuts off as ordered". Micheal cracked a slight smile at his remark.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

“Are you kidding, Michael?” James said, taking another gulp of almost boiling tea. Immediately, his innards began radiating heat into his body, and he shivered with temperature change for a moment. Then, he got back to the sergeant. He began to like the man. He hadn’t had much chance to talk with either of his new sergeants before, and the only times they did meet was during their formal introduction. Although James didn’t like the attitude sometimes portrayed by Americans to their superiors, he did have a felling both of his new NCO’s had a sense of humour. It made him feel a bit more secure, just like Donald did. Where there was humour, there was hope. That was his new device, his new motto.

“You’re serving under lieutenant Harrison now, sergeant” he said, hiding a smile behind his paper cup. “It’s always tea time in 1st Platoon”

“Aye” corporal Donald Alpin supported the claim made by his officer. He turned the cap of the vacuum flask a few times, screwing it tight shut to prevent the heat from escaping. These things were really nifty in design, he found.

“Except, of course, during whisky time.” Donald added, while kicking the back of his boot against the lower part of his backpack. The sound of moving glass could be faintly heard through the fabric. He smiled for a moment at the sergeant. Harrison, in the meantime, put on his less serious voice. Normally, he would only do that among friends, but there was no use hiding anything now. They might all be dead within the week.

“Of course, corporal, but that goes without saying. Drinking tea during whisky time is unheard off.”

Both men laughed for a moment while waiting for the 2nd to arrive. And indeed, they didn’t have to wait long. Before seeing them in the dim twilight of that April day, they could hear a faint humming approach, getting louder and louder as time went on. It wasn’t long before they could hear the lines that were sung, unmistakably the fine melody of the Battle Hymn of the Republic. “As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free” James heard, and it sent shivers down his spine. Let’s, he thought.

“Sir, Bravo squad reporting and freezing our nuts off as ordered” the sergeant said, with no small smile of his own. The lieutenant smiled a bit, too.

“Whatever happened to that paratrooper, Michael? I liked that song. Made me glad to be with the infantry. Anyway…” he said, before looking from one sergeant to the other. Calling them both by their first names had reminded him of something, something that just hit him like a brick.

“Oh god…” he nearly whispered. “Both of my sergeants are called Michael…” he stroked his chin for a moment, letting his eyes dart from one man to the other. He made a ‘hhmmmm’ sound with his mouth, as if buried deeply in thought. Then, he came with a solution.

“Alright, lads. You have some six hours to decide among yourselves what your names are going to be. I am not going to call you both just Michael, that’s for sure. If you haven’t found a solution at 0200 tomorrow, I’m going to call you Picadilly and Devonshire. Is that understood?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned around. All men had assembled, it was 2000 hours… Time to move as the darkness allowed. The sooner they were back in Helsinki, the better, for he knew the major wouldn’t want to be without his 2nd for long. A quick night’s march to the AA, some action, and a day’s march to the centre. They would be back before the evening meal the following day, if all went according to plan. For the first time that period, the lieutenant raised his voice to command level. Normally, he spoke with a civilised tone, never raising his voice during normal conversation, even when angry. But when commanding, his voice could truly boom. Like now.

“1st PLATOON!” he yelled, his voice echoing from the airport walls. “FORWARD… MARCH!”

With that, the platoon began moving through the western gate, following the road for as long as that was allowed. The lieutenant in front, accompanied by Donald. With a smile and a gleeful mood in his voice, he called for his friend.

“Corporal Alpin! A song, if you will”

The corporal nodded, and gave a few pats on the butt of his rifle. It seemed a signal, as all the men of the 1st began singing in harmony.

“Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules
Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these
But of all the world’s great heroes, there’s none that can compare
With a tow row row row row row, to the British Grenadiers!”


0600 hours
Nuuksion kansallispuisto
1st Platoon, 4th Company
NATO Expeditionary Force
‘Mending Clouded Skies’

By the Almighty, that night’s march had been a long one. Not because any of the men were slow or lagging, not at all. On the contrary, the pace had been constant and of military grade. Yet, the scenery had remained consistent. Trees, trees, trees, lake, grass, trees, trees, for as far as the eye could see. And that wasn’t really that far, because the dark of night had taken away all long-term vision. Every half hour or so, the platoon would stop and drop at the sound of something suspicious, which would almost always turn out to be an elk or some kind of large hooved animal. One time, it was a motorised vehicle, but whether it was a lost Soviet patrol or an early bird in the agricultural sector, they couldn’t tell. For the rest, the night was uneventful. Now, however, the platoon approached the suspected position of the AA battery, and Harrison commanded a halt by raising his clenched fist. The platoon halted. With the same hand, the lieutenant signalled the sergeants and the corporal to come closer. Here is where tactic would rule or rue that day.

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

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

After several long, cold hours of rucking along with many halts due to large animals, the platoon finally arrived near our probable objective. Surprisingly the men didn't complain too hard, they even pitched in singing Sgt. Mackenzie on the way over, but now was the time for tactics, including noise and light discipline.

Lieutenant Harrison held up the signal for another halt, however this time it was the real deal. From what Michael could tell they were very close, if not almost on top of the Soviet anti-air battery they were sent to destroy. Each member of the squad echoed the command to the soldier behind him and took a knee where they stood, then the commander motioned for leaders up front. Michael signaled his squad to get into the prone and provide security while he moved up. The soldiers all took cover behind a rock of tree, or whatever they could get behind and took the 9-12 position, beginning three hundred and sixty degree security for the leaders to plan out the attack.

Sergeant Picante silently strode over to the LT and took a knee, observing the area ahead of them waiting for either the officer to begin his planning or seeing an enemy off in the dark.

[Dubrovka]

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

The Lieutenant yelled "FORWARD...MARCH!", and the platoon was off, marching into the dark tundra, unaware what was in front of them. Into the frozen tundra they marched, all with combat loads weighing over 30 pounds. The Lieutenant commanded a song, and the British began singing. Once that song was through, silence ensued. They marched silently for about 2 hours until, finally, Micheal thought it was time for the Americans to have a go at it. Micheal whispered it to the Alpha Team lead, who was to begin.

The man began singing, then another chimed in, then another and another. Soon, all the Americans in the formation were singing the old American tune "God Bless America". They sang in the cold, icy wilderness;

God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.

As soon as it began, it ended. Then, everything returned to silence. They marched for another 2 hours until, finally, they were given the fist by the Lieutenant to stop and get down. Staff Sergeant Dewalt held up his fist and brought his hand to the ground, signaling to take cover and stop. They did so, and the squad took defensive positions on either side of the path they were walking on, their M16s and M60s facing outward from the path, keeping security.

[Armeia]

"So... You Privates feeling battle hardened yet?" chuckled Leon, as the trucks rumbled along towards Helsinki.

Luke nodded. "I got the first battle jitters out of my system," he laughed. "It's not near as terrifying when you've done it before, I suppose."

"You'll get used to it eventually," Leon said as the trucks stopped where they were supposed to set up outside Helsinki. It looked like the other soldiers had marched here, and Leon looked around in confusion. "The others don't have trucks?" he asked in disbelief as his men climbed from the back of the transports and swept the area.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

“Right” the lieutenant whispered, keeping his voice hushed as much as the wind would allow. A voice carried far in the cold, in the dark. He needn’t let the Soviets know of his plans. That would be the absolute end of his platoon. Any Soviet reinforcements could wipe them off the face of the earth. The Soviets could spare a company. For the NATO, a company was all they had. And it was under strength, too. When the sergeants and the corporal had closed enough, the lieutenant began to explain the situation. Explain the proposition.

“Alright lads, here is our problem…” he said, drawing with a stick in the hard ground in front of them. That the stick could actually move the hard ground was beyond a miracle.

“We are to the south of a Soviet AAA emplacement. Those buggers… That’s ‘shitheads’ for the American audience… Are currently understaffed and pretty happy with their security. We only have a few armed guards, and I doubt they take their guard too seriously. That gives us opportunity. 2nd section, you will move around the east flank, taking up good firing positions overlooking the gun emplacements. 3rd section, you will take the west. Make sure every man can fire at something. 1st Rifle section will move through the centre with me. On my mark… You won’t miss it… you will open fire. I want at least one machine gun of both 2nd and 3rd aiming towards anything that looks like radio equipment. The rest will take out other men, starting from those closest to the AAA. When all are taken out, we have a few minutes to set up charges, get the hell out of there and blow those damned mechanisms to the Choir Invisible. That explosion will be the sign of our mission accomplished. We’ll head back to Helsinki for a few drinks on my tab once all is said and done. Is this understood?”

His mouth had gone dry with talking. The plan was quite extensive, but easy to follow. His most favourite of plans. The worst enemy of a good plan was the dream of a perfect one, he had read enough Clausewitz and Frederick to know that simple fact. Thus, they moved out. Slowly, crouching and keeping his feet from snapping any twigs, Harrison and 1st Rifle Section moved up through the forest. It wasn’t a long trip, a few hundred meters at most. The field the AAA had set up shop was smallish, just large enough to allow a missile to fire but small enough to allow for plenty of cover from the air. The field itself was surrounded on all sides by small ridges and heaps of earth, probably forms of dust collected by the trees over many years. At his command, 1st Section took up positions behind these small covers, while keeping a close eye on the AAA. It was eerily quiet. Tents were pitched just in the treeline, a few men sat next to a campfire. Their Kalashnikov’s stood parked against trees. Those were the guards, Harrison figured. The rest of the man hung a bit here and there. They had clearly not seen enough action, and too much marching over the past days. They had grown lazy in their power, and now as the time to strike. Harrison waited until the other sections were in place, until the other sergeants gave the green light. Then, at the top of his lungs, the lieutenant ordered his first lethal command. The first of many in the war to come.

“FIRE AT WILL!”

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Helsinki, Finland
Lt. Cooper adjusted his C1A1's sling as he ambled along the sidewalk with Phelps following behind the officer. Cooper had forgone his helmet in favor of a olive drab stocking cap that was pulled down over his ears to aid against the cold air; Phelp's instead wore a woodland green fatigue cap with his rank sewn on the cover and the ear flaps pulled down. Both of the tankers walked the chilly streets with the no purpose but general exploration; despite the chilly weather both of the men were used to such a climate and were properly clothed for the chill.

"So the Frenchie has a plan to get our air back?" Phelp's asked as he ambled next to the officer.

"He has some crunchies going to knock out the AA." Cooper said as he observed a deuce and a half pass by with a load of soldiers in the back and a howitzer hitched to the back. "Still shouldn't pin all our hopes on air support though. Even with it they're still going to get into the city."

"How?" Phelp's asked as he followed his officer across the street and back to the garage.

"Sheer numbers, Phelps" Cooper said as he set a brisk pace to get out of the cold. "Then it's going to be our worst nightmare, fighting in this whole mess."

Cooper gestured towards the streets that were soon to be the maze he and his tankers would have to negotiate with no idea if Ruskies were around the corner. Phelps was silent as the pair returned too their tank which sat inside of the garage like a sleeping giant in green.

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

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

Michael Picante listened and watched the British officer as he utilized the environment to make a sand table of their current objective. While Harrison was explaining it on the ground, Michael would look up to get a better visual of the area ahead, well best he could given the dark forest they were in. Once the PL's orders had been given Michael quickly made his way back to his squad.

"Follow me" he whispered giving the hand signal to follow, then the hand signal for a single column.

The men obeyed these orders without question and kept their heads on a swivel, taking care not to step on any leaves. As the men moved each one thought of what they were about to do, Kill. It's not that they haven't done it before, on the contrary they've killed plenty of Russians. It still was just something not everybody got used to right away. One of the privates quietly chewed at some jerky left over from an MRE earlier that day, but quickly swallowed it once he saw the fire up ahead.

The squad moved into position from the west like ordered, thankfully there was a large felled tree, which they promptly set up behind. Michael put his two M60 gunners on either side of the squad, the right most one was designated to engage the tent, and unload an entire belt into it. The rest of the men were given freedom to take targets of opportunity. The two team leaders had their grenades in hand ready to pull the pin.

It seemed as if hours passed by, but finally, "FIRE AT WILL!" bellowed out from the darkness.

That was followed by reports from rifle and machine gun fired, peppered with the sound of grenades exploding. A few screams in Russian could be heard and a few bodies seemed to stumble out of the flaps of the tent.

Michaels RTO pulled up his hand mic, "Blue elements, blue two, we're going to assault through, shift fire, I say again, shift fire over."

This was asking The rest of the platoon to aim to the right of the enemy, giving them the illusion they were still being shot at, until Michael's squad was close enough that they would call "lift fire". That is where the other members cease fire until te assaulting squad crosses the objective and reached their LOA or "Limit of Advance" at that point the other squads would move through. Then special teams, such as demo, aid and litter and EPW or "Enemy Prisoner of War" teams would perform their function.

[Dubrovka]

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

Micheal ran up to the Lieutenant, who was already speaking to the leaders. He listened in to give the info back to his team leaders. The Lieutenant explained "2nd Section, you take the east, get in a good defensive position over looking the triple A emplacement, and prepare to open fire on my mark". Micheal nodded and ran back to his men, calling his team leaders.

They all gathered around and Micheal explained the plan. He said "We're going to the east side of these bastards, trying to get high ground to fire down on them. I want to make this quick and clean okay? Corporal Inga, you take your team and set up to the far left of our position, McDougal, set up on the far right, Corporal Timo, set up in the center with your 60s'. Remember, no mercy, just pull that trigger and let the lead fly. Let Ivan know what American fire power really feels like. Hooah?".

The men all replied "Hooah". Micheal nodded and ordered for the squad to follow. They made their way through the snow caked forest until they finally reached their post. The teams set up where they were ordered, the 16s' on the left and right and the 60s' in the middle. Micheal went around and made sure everyone was set up before signaling to the Lieutenant that they were ready to rock.

Before the men knew it, the Lieutenant yelled with all his might "FIRE AT WILL!!". The sound began deafening within just a few seconds. From every side of the triple a emplacement was a hail of fire coming from the platoon. Micheal's squad was pouring on the lead, the chatter of the M60s spewing 7.62 death down into the Soviet camp, the crack of the M16s and the occasional thump from the squads grenadier with the M203. In short, they were pouring on the lead from all weapon systems, with little return fire from the emplacements, with just the occasional AK round going overhead. Micheal aimed and fired round after round of 5.56 from his M16A1 at the Soviets, sending lead at 2x the speed of sound at the enemy. As he stopped to reload his M16 with a fresh magazine, he heard the horrible crack and scream from his left side. He ran over to see what was happening, only to see another soldier putting field dressing on a soldiers leg. One of the privates in Alpha squad had been hit in the leg by a stray Soviet Bullet. Micheal found and exit would so he knew it wasn't bad.

He went close to the privates ear, who was still firing his M16 and said "The bullet passed right through, missed your bone. You okay?". The private didn't respond, instead he kept firing his weapon in a calm demeanor which Micheal took as a yes.

"The Ruskies may be tough" Micheal thought, "But my boys are tougher".

[Military Democracy of Birtonia]

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

A few moments after Michael's Radio-Telephone Operator called up the shift fire maneuver to the rest of the platoon, the squad was ready to assault the position. The two M60 gunners were reloading their guns, the assault would commence after they were ready. With his off hand he grabbed another fragmentation grenade and pulled the pin, keeping a death grip on the spoon so it wouldn't explode in his hand. He looked down at the frozen ground in thought for just a moment before he would be rushing head first at the enemy, he was thrust back to the present when his team leaders shouted at him saying the guns were up. He drew in another breath of that dreadfully frigid Nordic he was slowly becoming accustomed to.

He stood, selecting the area he wanted his grenade to land, and tossed it with precision.

"Assault through! Stay on line!" he screamed over the rifle fire, and everyone stood up and hopped over the fallen tree. They stayed on line with their weapon up, shooting a few stragglers that weren't decimated by the initial destruction from the platoon. Michael tapped his RTO on the shoulder, who in turn, pulled up the radio again and yelled lift fire, so that the rest of the platoon wouldn't shoot them. As they moved through the objective, any Russian soldier still moving was shot in the chest and had their weapon kicked away from them. Upon arrival to the tent in the center, two men went in, guns drawn a few shots were heard, and the two soldiers exited, thankfully unscathed.

Picante didn't want to wait for the rest of the platoon to advance through, time was of the essence and command needed this AA battery offline days ago. He barked a few orders at his men, most of them pulled security towards the outside of the area while the others moved towards the bodies, searching for possible intelligence. The main focus was inside of the tent for the intel gathering soldiers, unfortunately it appeared that it only housed the few soldiers and their gear. One of the dead men seemed to be an officer, and lo and behold a map was discovered in his pocket, with several markings on it. This map would be passed up to the platoon leader, who would hopefully pass it on up to the S-2 to determine how useful it was.

Another pair of soldiers moved towards the ZSU's parked in the center of the clearing. They field stripped the vehicles first however, and stole a few 20 liter fuel cans, since they assumed the company needed it. Some field rations were also scavenged from the inside of the guns. C-4 was planted in strategic locations inside of the vehicle as well as the outside, ensuring total destruction of the enemy anti air capabilities. As the men were looting the dead communists bodies, Michael looked over at LT Harrison.

"Sir! We've got a map, and the charges are primed and ready to go, whenever you wanna move out!" he shouted in his direction.

[Australian Antarctica]

4 Days Later, Helsinki, Finland
The First T-72s came into view to the north, the smoke still rising from the abandoned and destroyed airport. The city itself was mostly rubble and road blocks, with only one clear route the Soviets could follow. The city was abandoned, all the civilians evacuated to neutral Sweden. The plan to hold the city was simple; make a first stand in the north of the city, then fall back and continue to ambush the slow moving armored column throughout the city. With the triple A knocked out they had air superiority, and even had a few bombers on the American Aircraft carrier docked in the port. The firebase was held in one of the ports, the Artillery and Helicopters, as well as Hammer platoon and a Finnish infantry platoon, based there. If worse came to worse they could have the Chinooks transport the men out to sea and booby trap the vehicles. Fabron had made a radio transmission earlier that morning "These Russians may have numbers, but they lack the knowledge of the territory we do. They lack the will to fight like we have. We can, and we will, beat them. Good luck, you all know the plan"

As the Soviet Tanks and infantry approached position one, the platoon commanders readied their men, guns trained on the fast approaching armor. Everything was ready. The battle was on.

[Tayner]

Schmidt's M1 Abrams was sitting hidden in a bus depot near one of the choke points on his battle map in position 1, waiting for the Reds. They knew they were just around the corner. Soon, the first soviet tank arrived. The first prey, a T-72. "Hold fire, they're just over 1,000 meters. We want them up closer."

"Yes sir!" The gunner said.

"Load an HEAT, fire on my mark."

"Aye." The loader said, loading an HEAT round. The T-72 drew closer, 1,010 meters, 1,000, 950.

"Mark!" Frank yelled, and a HE shell flew out of the 120mm barrel. The T-72 erupted into an explosion and nearby foot soldiers were blown to bits.

"Direct hit, they're fryin' in that thing." The gunner yelled.

"Nice shot, load a regular and hit the next unlucky bastard!" Frank said. He got on his radio, and got on his radio. "All tanks, all tanks, weapons free. Give 'em hell!"

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Cooper sighed as he listened to the steady stream of reports flowing into his helmet's radio as he and his crew remained inside their buttoned up tank to ward off the cold. Badger platoon along with most of the company was engaged at the first line of defense while Hammer platoon idled in the rear to act as a reserve force. The officer rose from his position in the tank and undid his hatch before he rose out to survey their position once more. Hammer 1's Leopard 2 with it's massive gun had been deployed by Cooper behind the rest of the platoon so it could continue to pick off armor while the rest of the platoon formed a wall to protect the tank. A quick glance assured him that both Hammer 2 and 3 were both in their positions as he slid back into his tank and closed the hatch behind him with a clang.

[Australian Antarctica]

Fabron wandered out from the HQ building, wincing as a cold gust of wind hit him. Growing up in southern France he was used to nice warm Springs, not these bitter cold hellish springs that they had here. He pulled down his stocking cap and walked the perimeter of the FOB, nodding at the artillery crews that were constantly shelling the incoming soviets and at the Pilots who were readying their helicopters. Finally he stopped at the northern end, where 7 deep rows of barbed wire was set and Hammer Platoon was stationed, both to stop any Soviets who managed to get through. The Major walked to Cooper's tank and knocked on the hatch.

[The United Federation of Terrans]

Fabron wandered out from the HQ building, wincing as a cold gust of wind hit him. Growing up in southern France he was used to nice warm Springs, not these bitter cold hellish springs that they had here. He pulled down his stocking cap and walked the perimeter of the FOB, nodding at the artillery crews that were constantly shelling the incoming soviets and at the Pilots who were readying their helicopters. Finally he stopped at the northern end, where 7 deep rows of barbed wire was set and Hammer Platoon was stationed, both to stop any Soviets who managed to get through. The Major walked to Cooper's tank and knocked on the hatch.

The pounding on the hatch caused Cooper to look up from the map he was using to track the battle. In the gunner's position Phelp's looked up from the game of blackjack he and Fletcher were playing to pass the time. Cooper set the map down and opened the hatch before rising up so his shoulders and helmeted head were visible as he looked for the man who knocked on his hatch. His eyes met the form of Major Fabron who he gave a curt nod to before he spoke.

"Major?"