REFUGEE CAMP ETOILE
SOUTH WEST VYMAR
Captain Oswald Dean entered the medical tent as a refugee was transported out of it on a stretcher. The refugee was short and skinny to the bone with a small blanket thrown haphazardly across his body; the soldiers rushing him into a Humvee right before it took off in the direction of another refugee camp 10 miles north of Etoile. As Oswald entered the tent, he was met with groans and the sight of 25 refugees lined up with 2 feet in between each of their individual beds. Medics would constantly jump from one refugee to another, treating shrapnel wounds, gun shot wounds or broken bones for a couple of minutes before tending to the next victim. There was 4 of these medical tents, each supposed to be able to give shelter to 20 people at max. In the entire camp, 431 refugees lived either on the mud roads with a blanket to keep themselves clean or in small tents which were reserved for families. The week before, an Estudean artillery strike had injured 113 and killed another 45. It was not particularly effective, however the few shells that did hit struck extremely dense pockets of refugees. Now the camp was overwhelmed with wounded, while already being overwhelmed by the constant influx of new refugees from Estude weekly.
Oswald observed the medics darting around around the tent as another medic quickly arrived at Oswald's feet "Sir, with all due respect, if you have no business here and do not intend to help, we need the space you're currently taking up". Oswald took a step back "Just wanted to check in. We got 10 more refugees coming in, one of them got messed up on the way here... don't know how, but he seemingly shattered his leg in some type of fall. He's gonna need to be treated". The medic let out a loud sigh as he turned to continue tending to one of the moaning refugees "He's gonna have to wait. Unless he wants to be driven up to Camp Dan out east. In that case he should get ready for a 40 minute drive". "I'll be sure to let him know".
Oswald walked out of the tent as another Humvee came in kicking up mud from behind it. He could catch a quick glimpse at the soldiers inside. Their faces were stone cold and muddy. From the cracked glass and dented metal on the Humvee, Oswald presumed they had ran into a skirmish with an Estudean Faction somewhere down south. It wasn't uncommon for Estudean factions to cut into Vymarian territory while hunting the Estudean civilians running away from the chaotic civil war state at home. It also wan't uncommon for refugees to attract surprise attacks from across the border as well.
As the Humvee passed by, Oswald crossed the mud road with a few quick steps as he began to walk to his own personal quarters. Which was not his own or personal either. He slept in an AAV7 with 3 other soldiers. Although he would have to admit, he rathered the inside of the AAV7 than the muddy floor that many of the refugees dealt with.
NORTHERN ESTUDE
Contested area between the Nationalist Front and The Risen Sun
It seemed almost immediate when the Anti-Tank missile slapped into the T-95AL as it rode up the small hill. Smoke and fire engulfed the tank as it came to an immediate stop. Private Akren watched the tank as he stayed within the cover of the hill that he had yet to crest. He watched the tank continue to burn without any sign of slowing down, flames shooting out the top of the tank in a desperate attempt in calming the fire down further. Before he knew it, a second explosion occurred in the tanks hull, blasting off the turret 10 feet into the air and back into dirt where it laid motionless.
There was a part of Akren that had a sliver of hope for those who were inside the tank, but the reality of what he witnessed was undeniable. And now it did not matter who he was fighting for or how he got there. He only wished to survive long enough so that he could return to the Firebase with all his limbs attached. Behind him, his squad leader had finished reloading his LMG and returned to suppressing the anti-tank position directly in front of them. However the LMG was not his, it belonged to the soldier next to him that was slumpt over in an upright position.
Akren crawled up the hill as he hugged his rifle next to his chest, inching forward slowly until he could see the tracers from his squad leader slam into a foxhole slightly to his right. He began to aim his rifle down the wide valley as the duo began to receive return fire. Tracers slapped into the dirt, kicking up dust into Akron's eyes as he heard his squad leader let out a yelp and suddenly stop firing. Akren began retreating back behind the hill as he turned towards his squad leader, now wrapping his left hand with a white cloth he picked off from the slumpt soldier on his left.
Akren now looked back over at the burning tank which had slowed down somewhat since the last time he watched it. The fire had seemingly engulfed the entire tank and was slowly eating at what remained. The sight instilled a sense of fear into Akren as the fire continued to engulf the tank. There was a feeling of hopelessness as the tank continued to burn and only seemed to further intimidate Akren as he continuously tried returning fire at his opposition only to be met with overwhelming suppressive fire forcing him to crawl back down behind the hill that was the only thing separating him and certain death.
