9th Regiment, 6th Infantry Division
Caoirigh go Brách!
September 12, Leersog, 5 miles north of Salacona
"Shipments of the new PPD-26 and DLMG due to arrive in Talinningrad around Sept. 14," the paper in his slightly shaking hand stated, "Will arrive at your projected positions a day after at worst.". Well, that was a good thing, these old guns were obsolete by now, about time they got some fresh shit. What was fresh but wasn't like shit, was this snow their truck was powering through. "Where'd all this snow come from sir? Didn't get these from the weather reports." a soldier, Sergeant Albrikt Fleming asked while peeking his face out from the back. Sheridan looked at him with an amused expression, "Should expect the unexpected Sergeant Fleming," he replied as the truck began begun trudging through waist high snow, "And surprise snowfall shouldn't surprise you, we dealt with way worse back in the War.". Indeed, those snows were the saving grace that they needed to beat the Arenginians at the Battle of the Bog, ah, their faces when they lost, very pleasing to watch. "C'mon lads, let's get a crack on," he told his men as the truck left the waist high snow, "We've gotta get to Syrissa and secure it.". The driver would beep the vehicle twice in agreement.
"Got a bad feeling 'bout the road ahead..." a soldier had muttered, and the First Lieutenant couldn't help but feel the same way, that today would be a very, very long day. Shame, the rest of his company didn't share that, Salacona had left them an optimistic bunch. Oh well, no resistance as of yet. Until 9:00 AM rolled around.
The truck stopped, and there seemed to be a commotion. He had stepped out with two of his men to see what had occurred at the front of the truck column, and a quick gander showed that some common native citizens had stopped the column. "That's strange, what business would they have with us?" Corporal Jansen had wondered out loud, "Sure hope they aren't codding us.". The three were walking to the head of the line until gunshots were heard. "Gods an ambush!" Sheridan yelled out, and he rushed back to his group of trucks and banged on them with his hand, "Alright lads! WEAPONS FREE!". And so men rushed out from the backs of the trucks with weapons ready. It appeared that there were both men at the column's front and back, as muzzle flashes began appearing from the wooded areas that they barely just left. Their guns then began returning fire, while two squads began to slowly flank.
It took a while, but at the expense of a whole fireteam, the people behind the ambush were either dead or captured, and gods help those captured. "Right lads, lets give these fools a taste of what the Arenginians felt back in the War, aye?" A tired and angered Sheridan Maugham said to his men, who replied with ayes of their own. Those innocents who were condemned alongside the guilty back in Shishiri, those folks he could pity, but these people? There was no pity to spare, they were helping them out and this was what they gave in return.
He came upon one of the perpetrators, and he smirked, "Haven't done this in a while," he thought to himself as he kicked the kneeling man in the gut, "Gonna be fun, aye.". Another one to the gut, followed up with a knife to the ribs from the back. "Right'o, let's see how well you bleed.". Already were screams flowing from the men as they were stabbed and skinned, and sometimes a mixture of both. They wounded them only to the edge of death, oh no, this was not the end of it, oh no no no. Poorly made nooses were raised in the trees, and from these they were hanged, and they did not snap their necks, oh no, asphyxiation was the aim of these. A painful death was the aim of these.
The truck column left.
"Well done pork" the signs resting upon their necks said.
-----
Hours later
"GODS FUCKING DAMMIT! PUT SOME SUPPRESSING FIRE ON THAT GUNNER!" Bellowed out First Lieutenant Sheridan Maugham as a bullet once more grazed his helmet, this time however, they were pinned down behind a wall of what seemed to be a bank, said bank was in ruins. What was expected as a quick rest in Syrissa just like Salacona quickly turned into a bloodbath for both sides. His company had been split into multiple platoons scattered throughout the city, and he had pulled a short straw and was with the weakest one. "Stiff resistance fiercer than those in the mountains here!" Yelled a private as he sprayed towards the general area where the bullets were coming round these parts it seemed. "Och, fucking Sirvanskans!". It seemed like that their suppressing fire wasn't working, until they had thrown two grenades at the enemy's position and combined it with more suppressing fire. The gunfire from the other side faltered, and Sheridan saw his opening.
"Right lads, FORWARD!" he screamed as he led the charge of the platoon, "Caoirigh go Brách!". And with that, the whole platoon had charged forward. The machine gunner was preparing to spray lead at them again, but now there was no distance between them and the group of soldiers. And in the resulting melee, the position was taken. But- Gods damn! "There's more of them in the buildings!" Screamed the same private from earlier, and they once more scurried to whatever cover they could find. Except for poor old Private Erin. "Ack! I'm h-" another shot at his back "AH!". Then the Maxims fired fully, ripping apart the private into bloody ribbons.
Sheridan blinked as he laid down behind an alley, then he blinked once more. He inched backwards before letting his head rest on a nearby wall. "C'mon man, breath..." He calmed himself as he readied his rifle. "SUPPRESSING FIRE!" He shouted out, he would need those machine gunners pinned down so he could take them out. "Alright..." he whispered to himself and aimed the barrel of his rifle. A gunner had spotted him aiming and trained his machine gun at him, but Maugham proved to be the better shot than the gunnery boy. A bullet right through the neck. Unfortunately, the enemy had died in a way that he slumped against the gun, which was aimed on him, and the body was able to push the trigger. Bullet fire fell upon the Lieutenant, and he waited for it to run out of ammunition. It wasn't long, as it was firing full auto, without stopping.
Proceeding to peek out of cover and aiming, he was able to take out three out of the six currently alive. Another one would be taken out by suppressing fire, and the fifth was taken care of by another rifleman. The sixth in that building was then focused upon. "A chicken this one lads!" Sheridan yelled as the enemy stopped firing, he had fled. The remnants of the platoon then rushed into the building, guns ready to blaze, but there seemed to be nobody home, except one person. He had a white flag being waved, but his other hand...
"Sir, he's surrendering!" Yelled a sergeant at him, but he paid him no heed, he just raised his gun and fired.
"A grenade." Was all he simply said as the offending instrument of war rolled out of the hand of the fresh corpse on the floor. The northern section of the city had been secured.