Team Yankee - Firestorm Red Thunder - IC

[Relikai]

OOC LINK BELOW
OOC

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REGIMENT: "SMITH to all units on the net. SMITH to all units on the net.
1st Battalion: "SMITH, FURNACE, copy."
2nd Battalion: "SMITH, ANVIL, copy."
3rd Battalion: "SMITH, CHISEL, copy."
"SMITH. We are heading towards Rally Point DELTA. Reports show of REDFOR breaking through BRAUNSCHWEIG and advancing towards the town. They nearly took us by surprise, but we're already on the way. ANVIL, you are to take and hold DELTA 1-2, FURNACE and CHISEL will head towards Rally Point CHARLIE to contain a breakthrough. Set up accordingly and dig in. Houses have been cleared of residents, and you will arrive with enough time to dig in. Good luck."

RALLY POINT DELTA MAP

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August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
Lt. Colonel Joseph Vandehaart
CALLSIGN: ANVIL

---

They were woken up barely seven hours ago, when the first alerts came over the radio. Lights out was at 2100 hours, and the mere three hours of sleep wasn't going to do people much good for their heads. The column of M113s finally came to a halt after four hours of intense driving, the small collection of buildings ahead of them being the main objective to defend.

Rally Point Delta is a critical junction linking three possible routes towards Hanover. Two are main roads leading from Braunschweig, while a third points towards Hamburg where the rest of the regiment would be holding. Earlier, they passed by some elements of the British Army of the Rhine, notably the 1st Armored Division which bore the brunt of the initial assault. Chieftain tanks and FV432 transports lay damaged along the roadside, on small flats made to ensure that they do not block the roads. Above, elements of NATO's air force battled it out with MiGs and Sukhois in a stalemate for air superiority, clearing paths for Tornados, Harriers and Warthogs to support the embattled units at the frontline.

As they got closer, the sounds of artillery could be heard. Batteries of M109s lined in their formations fired in support of troops engaged in battle, while streaks of light from afar marked the use of rocket batteries by the REDFOR, slamming hard into the entrenched British and West German forces. The column passed by field hospitals, command posts, and even a pit stop for attack helicopters to refuel and rearm before returning back to the fight. The wreckage of a Lynx helicopter was towed to the side to avoid taking up precious space in the landing zone, the blur of white cloth lined in a row a morbid omen of what was to come.

Lt. Colonel Joseph Vandevaart stretched his sore limbs, the commander and his radioman having ridden in his command M113 packed full of communications equipment and administrative gear. The map of Rally Point Delta was laid out on a small table as he entered one of the buildings in order to call his officers for a briefing. Each building, he saw, was two-stories tall, and able to house a platoon of men with sufficient windows to utilize the Dragon anti-tank missile if they so wish to. Radio communications had told him that the 9. Panzer Division of the Volksarmee would be sending a small element to Delta to capture the junction, while another division pushed into Hamburg.

As the commanders gathered from their long ride, Joseph looked at each of their faces. Some fresh out of officer school, some old veterans like him who served in Vietnam before being transferred to Europe. No matter how long they've spent in the 5th, Joseph trusted each of them to know their duty, and do their jobs.

"Alright people, listen up." Joseph said as he pulled out the map with rough markings on them. "We got lucky. Ivan isn't sending their main thrust towards us between Hanover and Luneberg. Instead, we'll be facing an East German element of tanks and mounted infantry. Now they've been meeting strong opposition in the Brits earlier, that's why we managed to get here ahead of time. However, intel said we should be expecting them at dawn."

Pointing towards the woods flanking the main roads, Joseph continued. "Bravo and Charlie shall take the forward positions inside the woods. Alpha shall command both the buildings as well as position yourselves wherever you see fit. ITVs will need a clear line of sight to fire their missiles, so holding up near the buildings to fire down the road should be ideal. Tanks can either do a fighting retreat with Bravo and Charlie, or station yourselves in ambush. The southern road is rough and dense, hard for vehicles to travel on but ideal for infantry to push through. Be careful not to bog your vehicles when under attack."

Turning to the observers, Joseph could see the observation teams attached to the forward companies, as well as Alpha's own FIST and ground spotter crew. At the last moment, a force of specialists were deployed alongside the battalion, and it was something he was glad to have. While Alpha and Bravo could call in airstrikes and mortars, Alpha's FIST team could call in additional Copperhead strikes from the M109s positioned behind the Rally Point.

"If there is any questions, now is the time to ask." Joseph said, nodding to the commanders of Bravo and Charlie as they went to deploy their men. "We might seem outnumbered, but there is the possibility of reinforcements coming as long as we hold the junction. Our own reserves are under way, and within three days we should be up to full fighting strength." There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he said that. At the last moment, equipment destined for his battalion was diverted to the Fulda Gap, where the fighting was the fiercest at this moment. A necessary move, Joseph knew, but an understrength formation was not the best to carry into battle. At least he has a couple of Abrams, and his battalion was supplemented with additional companies to make up for the lack of manpower.

[Ubaria]

1st Lt. Sullivan O'hara
Rally point DELTA - Hannover

---

"And only two thousand klicks short of Moscow"

Sullivan watched the distant lightshow unfurl behind the tree occluded, early morning horizon. Thousands of individual distant sparks of gunfire, rocket barrages and artillery shells lit up the skies like so many individual lightning strikes, accompanied by the rumbling thunder of explosions that marked the damning of those unfortunate enough to be any further forward than themselves. There was a confused, sleep deprived murmur from the driver's cabin. "Whassat Sir?" came the reply in a heavy, dixie drawl. "Nothing Private. Slow us down, we're entering the RP. Don't want to knock over some poor lad because you spent all of lights out trying to write a god-damn letter." Another garbled, slurred reply came. "Yessir"

"You really think we can hold off the Reds sir? I mean not just us ..." Dalton chimed in, his Boston accent was just as thick as his skull, the man was a few cards short of a full deck, and sometimes it showed.

"Doesn't matter what i think. Washington thinks we can and that's good enough i suppose. Listen when we stop and i go to get the 411 from the Lt. Colonel, i want you and Lowe to make sure everything is ready for combat. Relay that to Vargas too."

"Yes sir"

The 'Mad Hatter' as Sullivan had so fondly christened his machine, lurched to a halt with the 'March Hare' quickly in tow. Sullivan clambered out through the commander's hatch and dropped off the side onto the tarmac. Several of the other Platoon commanders followed into a makeshift briefing area which had been set up in one of the larger townhouses. The premise of the mission seemed clear enough and practically surmounted to 'Don't let the enemy past or shit will get fucked quickly'. Bravo and Charlie were to take up the forward defensive positions among the wooded area, which would provide Alpha ample time to prepare when the eventual shit hit the fan.

"If there is any questions, now is the time to ask." Vanderhaart finished his briefing, motioning for Bravo and Charlie to start enacting the defense.

"Sir. Do we have any idea the exact composition of the East German element?"

[Deutschess Kaiserreich]

1st Lieutenant Khuong "Kyle" Vo
Rally point Delta
August 4, 1985

Kyle had been awoken from the noise of frantic radio chatter. At first, he dismissed it as a nightmare. He had been having those more and more often as of late. He had dismissed it but as he was physically dragged from his room in PJs. Then he heard the orders. At first, he could not believe it. For a moment he paced about the command room in his PJs trying to make sense of what was going on. Impossible! How could it be! Were they insane? Kyle cupped his mouth in shock as he closed his eyes and let the chaos come into his ears only now clearer than ever. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to Jessica. It seemed he never would.

Then the orders came. Rally point Delta it would be.

Kyle got changed as fast as he could and met up with his men in the garage. As he inspected every single one of them he noticed their faces. Some were flushed red. Some were as white as paper. None of them had been prepared for this. Then again. How could you be? On their way to the rally point, Kyle yawned loudly. The APC's commander told him to get some sleep. He would need it. But even as he lay down on the benches to get some shuteye... he could not. He just laid there, listening to the non-stop radio chatter. He heard of units holding their ground in one last defiant stand. He heads cries of help from garrisons overrun like rocks under a tidal wave. He heard commanders demand to know what was going on. And if he concentrated hard enough, Kyle swore he could hear russian voices on the other side. When the APC finally ground to a stop, Kyle had only gotten ten minutes of sleep. "Are we there yet" Kyle mumbled while rubbing his face and drinking a canteen of water dry. But there was no reply. "Commander? Are we there yet?"

"Sir you should see this."

"What is it?" Kyle got off the bench and made his way to the command hatch. The commander came down, his face was as pale as snow. His voice shook a bit. He was still green. If Kyle had read the file correctly this would be his first mission. The commander pointed upwards and Kyle squeezed himself through the hatch. It was a scene of carnage and death. The burning chieftain had been shoved to the side of the road. Transports had holes punched through them big enough for a child to crawl through. Dozens of body bags had been arranged neatly by the side of the road. The cost of war. Just at the side of the road, next to Kyle's convoy was a crashed MIG. It had crashed at the other end of the highway and had bounced like a skipping stone all the way down before it buried in't nose in the dirt here. The window seemed to have been shattered by a thousand bullet and the pilot was nothing more than a puddle of soupy flesh. Two men in a friendly uniform walked by the convoy. One of them had a bloody bandage around his leg and was using the other for support. "What happened here," Kyle asked the two. From what they told him there were the wounds that the Soviets had inflicted on some elements of the British Army of the Rhine, notably the 1st Armored Division. The cost of war. Meanwhile, above bright flashes and tracer rounds raped the dark night sky. No stars could be seen through the black smoke that now covered the roof of the world. Kyle thanked them and the convoy continued on.

Kyle returned to his slumbers but he could not sleep. Not in this situation. Kyle stayed awake poring over tactical maps and talking over the radio to find what the hell was going on. He got nothing to expect that their foe had broken through Brunswick but he had no idea in what strength or even what nation had broken through. Just confusing mess. A suffocating one. He needed air. He swapped positions with the commander so that he could have some air on his face. Against regulation but they in friendly territory. They passed by many regiments stopped at the side of the road digging themselves in. Some were just shattered remnants trying to figure out what to do. In the distance, Kyle could see great flashes and fires of some city. At last, they arrived at the rally point. Kyle took a moment to stretch his sore limbs. Many of his men did as well. There was a call and all the commander gathered in a makeshift tent. If Kyle heard closely enough he could hear distant explosions and the screams of jets passing over them.

"Alright people, listen up." The commander said as he pulled out the map with rough markings on them. "We got lucky. Ivan isn't sending their main thrust towards us between Hanover and Luneberg. Instead, we'll be facing an East German element of tanks and mounted infantry. Now they've been meeting strong opposition in the Brits earlier." The Brits had sacrificed themselves to buy them sometimes. He expected nothing less of them. Kyle did a silent salute to those that had lost their lives. How many had already died? Almost certainly thousands.

The commander continued on, "That's why we managed to get here ahead of time. However, Intel said we should be expecting them at dawn." At dawn? Only an hour away. Kyle felt his stomach churn and twist. Nothing in basic could ever teach you to be ready. Nothing would.

Pointing towards the woods flanking the main roads, the commander continued. "Bravo and Charlie shall take the forward positions inside the woods. Alpha shall command both the buildings as well as position yourselves wherever you see fit. ITVs will need a clear line of sight to fire their missiles, so holding up near the buildings to fire down the road should be ideal. Tanks can either do a fighting retreat with Bravo and Charlie, or station yourselves in ambush. The southern road is rough and dense, hard for vehicles to travel on but ideal for infantry to push through. Be careful not to bog your vehicles when under attack." In his mind, Kyle had formulated a plan. His SAW teams would take care of the southern road. They had AT just in case a BMP snuck up on them. His AT teams? Maybe the northern road just in case they flanked them. Then the time for questions came. Kyle raised his hands and asked the commander, "Sir, can we expect some air support and will REDFOR have it as well?"

[Vacif]

1st Lieutenant Christian Lambert
August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
CALLSIGN: ACHILLES

---

Achilles and Acheron were the nicknames of the two M1 Abrams tanks assigned to Combat Team Alpha. Achilles was commanded by 1st Lieutenant Lambert himself, while Acheron was commanded by Sergeant First Class Turner. Lambert had never seen real combat before, but his Gunner, and Platoon Sergeant had both seen active duty in Vietnam. Despite the fact that a Third World War may very well have just started, the men from both tanks were markedly calm. If they were nervous, angry, sad, or scared, they hid it very well. Though that may have just been the sleep deprivation hindering any ability to show emotion. They were human, military training or not, people needed their sleep. Especially while operating multi-million dollar war machines that weighed a great many tons.

It had been several hours of driving and with nothing to do but wait, so he let some of the men sleep. The sound of the Abram's engine was deafening but these men could literally sleep anywhere, through anything. Unfortunately for the driver, Carter, there would be no extra shuteye for him as he had to drive the damn tank. Respite only came when they'd finally arrived at the rally point where they could finally disembark. No matter how cozy they made the inside of their Abrams, you could only stay inside so long. "Alright men, dismount, stretch your legs, piss, do whatever you need to do, but be back in ten. And don't stray too far. We're on the frontline now." Aaron, Edgar, and Derek all replied with their own version of affirmative before going off to do whatever they needed to.

The early morning air felt good against his skin as he strode down the side of the road towards their impromptu HQ. One of the nondescript town buildings. Inside was luckily spacious enough so that people weren't pressing against each other to see what was going on on the table. Taking in what information he had, Christian decided that he'd set his tanks up in the forests with Bravo, hide in the woods until the enemy Recce/vanguard unit was in range, and take them in one go. Dig a trench if there wasn't a defilade to hide behind, set up camo nets and wait. "Are the East Germans following the same doctrine as the Russians pushing for the Fulda?"

[Relikai]

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August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
Lt. Colonel Joseph Vandehaart
CALLSIGN: ANVIL

---

"Sir. Do we have any idea the exact composition of the East German element?"

One of his ITV platoon commanders popped up the question. A fellow veteran in Vietnam as one of his M60 commanders is, he was confident they could hold the line in confidence and experience. However, facing the Red Tide would be vastly different compared to the hit-and-run tactics of the Vietnamese in the jungles of Southeast Asia.

"The East Germans... we've received reports that three battalions split off the main thrust south, and are headed this way. As to the strength of each, scouts say they took some damage on the way, but is still a grave threat." Joseph replied in his seemingly accent-less voice. His finger moved on the map, pointing towards the South Road which led through the dense German forest. "The road here is hard for armored vehicles to pass through, we're sure that the motorized infantry would attempt to sneak up onto the town from this direction."

Another gesture marked the plains beside the road, coming directly from the East. "Two armored battalions. Mostly T-54 scout tanks, but there might be additional armor to punch through our position. Open plains converging into the road and the forest, Bravo would aim to surprise them from the flanks."

"Sir, can we expect some air support and will REDFOR have it as well?"

A fresh face from Vietnam, possibly a son of some important official. However, he got here by his merits, and Joseph respects that.

"Ramstein's occupied with the thrust near Fulda, but we can expect air support from the Twelfth. How much and how often we cannot confirm. Ivan's throwing their air force right at ours, and many bases were hit by aircraft and artillery. Frogfoots and Hinds were reported near our position, but that is a worry for our Anti-Air companies and the VADs to handle. Get into cover, deny them sight of your transports."

"Are the East Germans following the same doctrine as the Russians pushing for the Fulda?"

This came from the officer of his M1 tank platoon, the best tanks the Fifth Infantry was going to receive. Officer school rated him highly in his leadership skills, and Joseph would be counting on him to draw out the power of the M1s.

"They're being slightly cautious. Fighting at the Gap's a series of maneuvers and attempts to break through the defensive lines, while we are an objective itself. If they managed to take the woods, falling back to the town is the best option. Also, do not stay in one position for too long, the Reds are bringing their heaviest tubes for this fight."

[Ubaria]

1st Lt. Sullivan O'hara
Rally point DELTA - Hannover

---

"The East Germans... we've received reports that three battalions split off the main thrust south, and are headed this way. As to the strength of each, scouts say they took some damage on the way, but is still a grave threat. - Two armored battalions. Mostly T-54 scout tanks, but there might be additional armor to punch through our position. Open plains converging into the road and the forest, Bravo would aim to surprise them from the flanks."

O'hara nodded in understanding, already formulating a plan of action in his mind. The Dual TOW tubes mounted to the top of his M113's chassis would make short work of the Post Second World War Soviet tanks, even at a distance, impacting the right spot would light them up like a bonfire. Equally, the main cannon on the T-54 or indeed any soviet armor would punch through the light hull of the M901 like a tack through paper, concealment and speed would be the name of the game, it would be imperivite that they spot the enemy first rather than vice versa, luckily for that, they had several platoons worth of men between them and the frontline.

Each of the other commanders asked their questions in turn and Sullivan listened, occasionally hastily scribbling down a note in his small pocket book for future reference. After all was said and done, Sullivan left the townhouse and jogged back over to the 'Mad Hatter', where to his surprise, her crew had actually followed his orders. Lowe was atop the M27 'Hammerhead' turret, inspecting the two pre-loaded TOW tubes whilst Dalton was inspecting the front left side tracks. Vargas, the commander of the 'March Hare', leaned from his hatch as he saw Sullivan approaching.

"So how fucked are we?"

"Soviets have decided to send the Volksarmee at us first, we're facing two armored Battalions and mounted infantry in support. Bravo and Charlie are already setting up in the woods to our east, it's going to be a slugfest."

"So where are we going to be?"

O'hara paused for a moment, hands on hips with a drawn yet thoughtful expression, staring between the pair of missile carriers and the buildings down the road. Taking the vulnerable M113's up to the front-line would be a bad idea, not just because of their thin armor but because their sightlines would be occluded by trees and foliage, that and retreating through the woods would slow them down.

"We'll sit pretty at the eastern edge of the town, using the buildings for cover. Vargas you take the northern side of the road and i'll take the southern side. Give us a shot down the road and at anything in the forest. Anything that looks remotely eastern bloc that comes out of those trees, we pack up and haul ass. Delay them as much as we can through the town and hope our armor can give us enough covering fire to re-position. Sound good?"

Vargas thumped twice on the chassis of the March Hare in compliance and quickly ducked down back into his hatch, the 6 cylinder diesel engine of the converted personnel carrier growling into life. He turned to his own vehicle.

"Ok. Mount up!"

As planned, the March Hare split off the road as the pair of tank destroyers reached the edge of the town, Sullivan ordered his own driver to round the edge of the building, another simple two story townhouse with a small extension that afforded them some hardened cover, the bushy contents of the now trampled garden afforded them a little concealment and a sightline towards the treeline some few hundred meters away. They could see Charlie setting up ahead, but not much further into the gloomy woodland which was now barely being lit by the early morning sun. Sullivan leaned over from his position in the commander's cupola towards the radio set and thumbed over the transmit switch.

"Commander O'Hara to Alpha Actual. We're in position at the eastern edge of the town."

[Vacif]

1st Lieutenant Christian Lambert
August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
CALLSIGN: ACHILLES

---

Taking his leave, Christian gave a crisp salute before excusing himself to gather the men under his charge. The Volks weren't quite the Soviets but their equipment forced them to play to the advantages of the Soviet way. Rumour was that the Soviets were accepting 80% casualties before relenting for the next unit to come in to maintain the momentum of the push. Soviets were built for speed and power because they knew NATO was relying on far support and distance to buy time for the big guns to arrive. If they got in close, NATO couldn't, or rather wouldn't drop bombs on their own people. They were also trained and equipped for extensive NBC combat which scared Christian. It meant that the Soviets were okay with or were expecting the deployment nukes to the front. NATO wouldn't nuke their own people, or territory, but the PACT might. Their men would be fully ready to charge through a radioactive hellscape. Meanwhile his Abrams tank was not rated for NBC conditions.

Their enemy however was not the Soviets, but the Volksarmee of the East Germans. They valued their lives and the land they were trying to 'liberate'. They were playing it more cautiously, though they were still PACT. They'd be torn to shreds if they stayed too far away. Turning the corner, he saw his Achilles, parked out in a small park, the immaculately grass now ruined by the weight of the tank. Around it were his men, milling about, stretching, talking, eating. Edgar was the first to see the Lieutenant, striding down the side walk. He hastily interrupted what the others were doing and the men gathered around. "Sir. What's our play?" asked the SFC.

"We're moving out to the woods to the north-east with Bravo. We're going to dig in temporarily in the tree line, set up camo nets. I want to snipe as many as we can before we have to start skirmishing and backing out of the woods. Bravo-and us by extension want to ambush their vanguard before shit gets too heavy. If we get pushed too hard, we fallback to the town where we will regroup, rearm if need be and react to any enemy armour incursion. Expect T-54s, and maybe some T-72s I want those tanks dead, but if you see a BTR or a BMP without its infantry compliment out, take them. It'll be an entire squad of infantry we won't need to deal with later."

"Tanks defend aggressively?"

"Tanks defend aggressively."

"Gotcha. When do the Volks arrive?"

"Dawn." The men cursed under their breath.

"How many?" Asked the gunner.

"Two Panzer battalions, and a few battalions of motorized infantry. Not a lot of time so let's get moving men."

The tankers broke into a quick jog as they clambered into their vehicles. Their Abrams tanks made an ungodly amount of noise as they started them up, and drove down the road towards the woods. Linking up with the tanks from Bravo, they shared their comms and plans before digging into the treeline. The hill gently slopped in their favour as they aimed their tank turrets just over the crest of the hill, giving the Volks very little to aim at. The camo netting made the tanks harder to distinguish from the surrounding shrubbery from the great distance they were hopefully going to be engaging from. The two Abrams were a good 55 meters apart from each other.

"Achilles to Anvil, we are in position. Over."

[Theodosiya]

Lt Michael Grayson
August 4, 1985
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
Callsign : Hammer


Mjölnir stopped and starts to turn left, followed suit by Gungnir three dozen metres away to its right. The vegetation surrounding them provide some cover and concealment, but Lt Grayson knows that it took some time to conceal the tanks. "Alright, folks, you know the drill. Set up defensive position, place sandbags, logs and branches around. Let's make surprise for the commies, see if they fancy depleted uranium to the brain." He spoke to the radio, before climbing outside Mjölnir, his personal M60A3 VTT. They deployed southeast to Charlie, northeast to Alpha, behind the small road, overlooking the open field, ready to shoot at any hostiles.

"We're facing National Volksarmee (NVA), right, Lieutenant?" Specialist Lucas asked. The African-American loader dug a hole deep enough for the tank to at least partially cover the hull. "Yes. Approximately a brigade sized force. Panzer, so T-54, T-55, T-72, maybe all three. 2 MBT battalion and a motorized one, in BTRs, although I or intel could be wrong and we got a mechanized with BMPs. Panzers would advance along the main road, one we're looking at open. The motorized battalion will advance along the small road ahead of us." Mike answered, looking back at the specialist, shovel on hand. "Won't be like Vietnam, I'd guess? Back then, all we face is bunch of rice farmer with AKs and RPGs. Somehow we lost, thanks to those damn drug addled hippies, and coward politicians" SSG Thomas Edward grunts, while concealing the tank gun. "It's way more complex than that, Tom. Bunch of rice farmers? Yeah, and also veterans of French Indochina war, and many professionals too. Also, try say that to some of the folks I know who saw bunch of T-34-85 and T-54, beside me. Oh, not to mention the SAMs" Mike retaliated. "Which unit you served, if I may ask, Lieutenant? I'm in 1st Infantry Brigade" The sergeant jumped down. "11th ACR. Enlisted as Private, end up a Sergeant" Mike answered. They then worked in silence, up until the tanks could be barely seen.

"Hammer to Anvil, we're in position, northeast to Alpha and southeast of Charlie. We got sight on the roads, will radio in any hostiles coming to sight, over" Mike watched through the tank cupola. "Gungnir to Mjölnir. Are we going to keep firing or fire some rounds then pull back, over?" The radio comes into life with chatter from the other tank. "Mjölnir to Gungnir. It would depends. If they start firing at our location, fire and withdraw. Otherwise, keep hammering at them. Is it clear, over?" Mike responded. "Gungnir to Mjölnir. Loud and clear. Out"

[Relikai]

MISSION: BYPASS

---

August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
Lt. Colonel Joseph Vandehaart
CALLSIGN: ANVIL

---

"All units in position sir."
"Anvil to all, Copy."

Radioman Harold Colins plotted the radioed positions on the map, the young signaler marking down the forward positions, as well as the reserve infantry staying inside their M113s under some camouflage netting. The houses would be the last line of defence, as the Anti-Air Battalion positioned itself a fair distance to the rear, while the battalion VADs scanned the sky in search for any Soviet helicopters. Booming could be heard in the distance from the East, while the roar of jet engines overhead revealed the dark silhouettes of NATO aircraft flying to support the embattled ground forces.

They were inside one of the buildings with a small complement of troops, mainly support staff and some artillerymen from the mortar platoon. If the fighting ever got to them... Well, Joseph Vandehaart breathed a sigh as he took a cup of brewed coffee in hand, his M16 resting on the table where the strategic map was splayed across.

"Civilians are evacuating Hamburg. That's causing a traffic jam on the roads leading to the west. German troops are refusing to retreat and are being overrun. A new defence line is being formed along the Elbe." Colins continued, informing Joseph about what's transpiring up north. Hamburg lay around a hundred kilometers from Rally Point Delta, and is a critical location for NATO forces, especially the Danes north of it.

"Any news on the East German advance."
"Scouts reported that they are closing in soon. Advance force of T-55s to the north. BTR companies are closing in from the south at speed."
"This is gonna be a hard fight."

Joseph ended, moving over to the radio comms as the artilleryman passed him some notes. The M106s and M109s have completed their range-in shots thanks to the OP teams of Bravo and Charlie, and the Dragon teams set up their launchers near the treeline, a possible missile wall facing any advance. The M1 Abrams had consolidated into a solid team of 4 tanks, and the Pattons are reinforcing Charlie. Not a bad move by his commanders, Joseph thought, as the radio crackled into life once more.

REGIMENT: "SMITH, ANVIL. Hostiles approaching from the East and South East. ETA ten minutes."
ANVIL: "ANVIL, SMITH, Copy. All units in position."
REGIMENT: "SMITH, ANVIL Copy. Count fifty tanks and twenty BTRs on the roads. REDFOR is coming hard on you guys. Standby."

THUNDER: "THUNDER to ANVIL. We will be your air support. Carrying Mavs and clusters, awaiting coordinates."

---

In the distance, the sound of heavy diesel engines gave a low roar among the battalion as the East German force approached Rally Point DELTA at speed. Part of the Group of Soviet Forces in Germany (GSFG), the main Soviet thrust took place elsewhere while this secondary force was deployed to take and hold DELTA against possible NATO reinforcements from the north. With two heavy thrusts focused on Frankfurt and Hamburg, taking DELTA in preparation of choking Hanover while the two thrusts encircle them would ensure the relative safety of the supply lines feeding the horde of WARPAC tanks.

They were counting on surprise and the weight of their attacks to draw NATO towards the hotspots, leaving DELTA an easy grab. They weren't complacent though, as the T-55s surged forward, aiming to follow the roads into the village.

From the south, the wheeled BTRs dashed along the roads, their guns pointed towards the treeline as mounted infantry waited inside their vehicles. Smoke canisters were prepped as they approached within a range of three kilometers, the troops gripping their weapons as their training took over. Highly motivated and skilled in the assault, the East German forces prepared to charge the NATO lines with purpose. Fresh from crushing the Berlin brigade in a resounding victory, they surged forward with purpose, a small cloud of dust and engine gas marking their approach.

ANVIL: "ANVIL to all units. Hostiles in sight. We got the additional range over them. Dragons will fire when they approach closer. Remember your training boys. ANVIL out."

---

[Vacif]

1st Lieutenant Christian Lambert
August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
CALLSIGN: ACHILLES

---

Lambert keyed the mic. "Copy that, we'll take out as many as we can before they get close. Achilles out." After he cut the connection he waved to his team to get set to engage. "Lain, load HEAT." They were sending T-55s, the exact thing their gun was designed to counter. Albeit the enemy had likely modernized their kit a bit, APFSDS, HEAT, they'd both penetrate at this angle. If there was one regret he had about the Abrams, it was that it didn't have as much ammo as the Patton. 48 rounds was quite the downgrade from 63. Had it not been for the fact that they were short on time and that they were going to be mobile, he would have hooked up a trailer full of spare shells to the back of the Achilles.

Christian popped the Commander's hatch and brought up his binoculars. The first of the T-55s were about 5,500 meters away. They were hauling ass towards their position, and weren't stopping, Their maximum effective range for anything that could actually hurt them was about 2,500 meters. Or so they say. He had no intention of letting them get anywhere close to that 2,500 meter range. Technically, the effective range of their gun was about 4,400 meters (The gun's range finder didn't go past 4,400) but he'd been training his men to operate beyond those ranges, up to 5,400 meters. With the help of a firing table, and his binoculars, they were able to zero in on enemy targets beyond the range finder's gaze.

"HEAT loaded sir!"

"Gunner, dial in. 82 degrees, east. 5,200 meters."

"Copy that."

"Achilles to Acheron. Vanguard spotted. We are engaging."

"Solid copy Achilles, we're dialed in."

"Acknowledged, fire!" and with that simple word, a pair of 105mm cannons boomed from within the treeline. A large ball of fire, and a smoke trail later, they backed down their hill to reload. 5,200 meters away, a pair of Volksarmee T-52s erupted into flames as the rounds struck their upper glacis. That's what he liked about their gun. It was a rifled 105mm. Sure there were arguments for what it did to the ballistics on a HEAT or APFSDS round but It head greater accuracy and range than what they were typically trained for. "Load another HEAT round!"

"Loaded!"

"Driver, reposition us."

"Copy." The M1 gently rode up the slope of the hill again, entering a new hull down position just behind the hill. The Lieutenant popped the hatch again, sighting his next mark. The T-55s had advanced about 90 meters since they fired the first volley.

"Next target, bearing 65 degrees east-north-east. 5,100 meters."

"Sighted, dialed in."

"Fire!" Achilles, followed shortly by Acheron fired once again. Their positions exposed by the fireball and their repositioning covered by the smoke of the round. Like before the Abrams tanks backed up to reload and find another position to fire from.

"Good hit, targets decomissioned." reported his wingman. Like before, another pair of T-55s sat on the grassy knoll, now husks. One smoked, black, choking smoke bellow from the entrance wound, while the other swayed, right before abruptly stopping. Either the engine had been hit and destroyed, or its driver had been killed by the blast.

"Alright rinse and repeat. We'll keep this up for as long as we can."

---

ACHILLES: 105mm HEAT --> T-55AM2 [KIA]

ACHERON: 105mm HEAT --> T-55AM2 [KIA]

ACHILLES: 105mm HEAT --> T-55AM2 [KIA]

ACHERON: 105mm HEAT --> T-55AM2 [KIA]

[Theodosiya]

Lt Michael Grayson
August 4, 1985
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
Callsign : Hammer

Rows of T-55AM2 rolls into Mike sight, as he watched closely inside his cupola. "T-55AM2, folks. And lots of them." He spoke, without turning to his gunner. "Well, that means DU, just to be safe. Popper?" Tom tapped the tank breech. "Yes sir." the loader pulled one of M883 from the ammo rack. "Tom, get ready. Popper, load APFSDS. We'll fire when..." Mike word was cut short when he heard a tank fires in the distance, and a T-55AM2 exploded. "Ah fuck. And I had wanted to fire when they're in 35 to 2000 meter. Okay folks, we're engaging the Reds now. Tom, be ready" Mike sighed and began calculating distance. Some of the T-55AM2 closed onto Bravo position, and from his position, he could deduce that they exposed their side to the guns of his tank platoon. "Alright, they're entering 4500 meter. Once they enter 4000, we'll fire three shots to first three tanks, Gungnir will fire at last three tanks, then we'll back down as fast as we could while firing as fast, as much and as accurate as we can" Mike spoke again, and repeated it to Gungnir.

"M883 loaded", "Target acquired", "Fire!", words spoken as Mjolnir and Gungnir guns roared three times. A T-55AM2 exploded, it's turret blown clear from the hull, followed by another one. Four other tank were struck by the rounds, but Mike doesn't see any explosion, although he know that something must have happened, because they stopped. "Okay, load HEAT-FS, start firing like madman, and back down from here" Mike spoke, both to his crew, and he repeated it to Gungnir. Both tank guns fires again and again, as they moving back toward Alpha, repositioning before planning to advance and flank the motorized infantry.

2x T-55AM2 Catastrophic kill
4x T-55AM2 probable kill
2x T-55AM2 missed

[Relikai]

August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER


As the thunder of guns firing followed the flashes of cannon fire along the treeline, the leading elements of T-55s came to a stop as their engines began to catch fire, ammunition cooking off from the extreme heat vaporizing the insides of the vehicle. The formation of East German panzers continued on however as their guns fired in response, their improved stabilizers giving them a fighting chance against the dug in NATO forces.

Behind them, spotters lying in wait reported data to their support formations to the rear. The East German T-72s, their bread and butter tank, began to reposition itself as the lead elements of the BTR battalion reported clashes with troops, notably soldiers from Charlie. Bravo's tanks added their shots into the fray, knocking out another two T-55s before the first shells began to fall, a thick smokescreen forming a wall across the plains. Just a kilometer away from the 5 Infantry Division's firing line, the smoke began to rise as more shells impacted, the EG artillery providing much needed cover for their embattled comrades.

A loud thud could be heard as a shell struck the turret of one of Bravo's M1s, the shot failing to pierce through the armor of the American tank. Another struck the hull to similar results, as the smoke denied line-of-sight towards the enemy...

[Vacif]

1st Lieutenant Christian Lambert
August 4, 1985, 0530
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
CALLSIGN: ACHILLES

---

"Hey do you hear that?"

"...."

"Artillery!" yelled a voice from the radio. The team scrambled into action as they began to move when suddenly shells began hitting their position. As they reversed from the defilade, the land around them exploded in smoke. The last thing they could clearly see was a shell directly hitting one of the Abrams from Bravo. Then a second shell hit. Luckily it wouldn't, shouldn't, and didn't penetrate, but that was going to make seeing a shit tonne more difficult. They weren't going to wait around in the smoke for a T-55 to ram into them like it was Stalingrad 1944. The smoke obscured the enemy advance, and their thermals weren't going to give them very much in the way of enough range. He opted to pull his men back further into the tree line to their established secondary line. It wasn't a full retreat, they were still well within the tree line. The secondary position would give them eyes on the enemy tanks cresting the hill. Granted smoke now obscured that same hill but with the help of their thermals, they would at least get something before having to fall back further.

"This is Achilles, we're falling back to the secondary line. We are not sticking around for HE to zero in."

"Acheron copies, Bravo, you coming?" His wingman confirmed over the radio that they were retreating. The Abrams tanks carefully navigated their way past the semi-dense tree thicket towards the second defensive position. The men prematurely zeroes in their guns for the hill's range, and waited for the tanks to enter the kill zone. He wasn't ballsy enough to counter charge the Germans.

[Ubaria]

1st Lieutenant Virgil Demer
Unit Bravo -
Rally point DELTA - Hannover

---

Palpable was the tension inside the cramped confines on the tank, each one of the crew awaited the oncoming carnage in a grim silence, the only sounds being the guttural thrum of the Abrams' Gas Turbine Engine resonating throughout the crew compartment, and the occasional thump of a distant artillery shell or bomb rattling the countryside. Bravo's lead tank lay motionless in the defilade just short of the forward treeline, a mixture of overhanging branches and thicket canopy concealed most, if not all, of the vehicles thick silhouette, making it almost indistinguishable from the surrounding woodland at a distance. 1st Lt. Demer glared anxiously through the commander's sight which was fixated on a point in the distance where the eventual Soviet assault was approaching from, the commander maintained a calm composure but inside the fear was gripping his mind tightly, the coppery tang of adrenaline held on his tongue, a fine rivulet of sweat dripped down his freshly shaven cheek which was quickly wiped aside by a greasy coverall sleeve.

Up ahead was the misty twilight of pre-dawn, too dark to see clearly but enough natural light to pick out any shapes in the murky flatland, there was nothing awaiting them. One moment was all it took for the air to seemingly erupt in thick billows of grey, the shadows of trees in the distance suddenly blotted out by a wall of smoke that seemly surged out in all directions like a pyroclastic flow. Demer's throat seized, his hot and clammy skin turned ice cold with the surge of icy shock rattling his body, for a moment his world froze, the only thing he could hear was the voice in his ears.

"Contact!"

Guns all along the treeline erupted in a chorus of directed firepower, bolts of fire lashed out into the dark and were returned in kind by the WARPAC spearhead.

"What do we do sir?" Came a call from the gunnery compartment.

Vergil peered back into his periscope, scanning the unfolding chaos for a target, any target, to wander into firing range. Volksarmee T-55's headed the charge, bounding across the open ground in a desperate bid to close the gap between them and the enemy and overwhelm the defenses, two already went up in a jet of white flame, several BTR's also caught aflame, lighting the copse like a flare.

"Zero Two Four, 3000 meters T-55 advancing perpendicular to the road."

"Target acquired."

"Fire!"

The M1's cannon recoiled with the blast, departing the barrel at speeds deadly to almost any known target, the shell screamed across the field and slammed through the upper turret of the T-55 and without a moment between, blew the ammo rack and in turn sent the tank up like a firework, the flaming wreck continued at speed for the next few hundred meters before slowing to a halt.

"Target destroyed. Traverse to bearing Zero-Five-Nine, another tank advancing in the same direc - Fuck!"

The entire tank jolted, a loud clang shook the crew. They had taken a hit.

"Your turret took a glancing hit? You alright in there?" Came the radio call from another of Bravo's tanks, situated a few hundred meters down the treeline.

"Yeah we're good - Jesus christ!"

Another loud bang, another sustained hit.

"You're taking heavy fire! Covering!"

Bravo two launched a shell downrange, impacting the offending tank with a direct blow to the tracks, another follow up punched through the hull and the third blew the turret barrel clean off, rendering the tank harmless.

Virgil exhaled sharply, a hand on his chest revealed his heart was pounding like a jackrabbit. More shots were beginning to land around them, snapping trees like twigs and churning the earth into dust. To add to matters, a massive smoke bombardment began to pound the area adding to the chaos, no doubt covering the advance for more East German forces waiting in the backlines.

"Granite Actual to all Bravo elements, we're pulling back to the secondary defensive line."

Code: Select all

Bravo M1---> T-55
Bravo M1---> T-55 (Disabled)


[Theodosiya]

Lt Michael Grayson
August 4, 1985
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
Callsign : Hammer


Mjolnir stormed ahead, followed by Gungnir, acting as tip of spear for a counterattack against Reds strike on Charlie. Mike eyed through his tank thermal sight, guiding the small battlegroup through the smokes. "Mjolnir to infantry platoon leader. We're closing in. My tanks will open fire and stormed their flanks. You are to follow behind, dismount and attack. Understand? I'll tell you when you guys dismount." Mike spoke to the radio, and ordered that the gun of the tanks zeroed at targets in 1200m range. Mjolnir and Gungnir stopped side by side , the M113s forming line formation behind. "BTR-60s. Ripe for massacre" Nuke, Gungnir commander comments. "Yeah. Load up HEP first, blow up first and last vehicle of the Reds" Mike grunts into the radio. The loaders of the tanks worked quickly, and soon two BTR-60s erupted in flames. Again and again the guns of the tanks fires, and soon joined by the HMGs of the tanks and M113s. The BTR-60s and its accompanying infantry got caught in the flank, unprepared against a thrust from south of their position, many cut down, oftentimes literally by the storm of bullets and shells. The infantry quickly dismount and joined the fray. Mike force are unexpectedly protected by the smoke laid by the Reds, and with the aid of the thermal sights on the tanks, soon started inflicting disproportionate casualties to the motorized infantry company. White Phosphorus smoke round fired by the tanks added into the chaos, burning the vehicles, the infantry inside and around it and the forest. Soon after, they retreated, disorganized and leaderless, the infantry captain screaming off as he slowly dies, choked up by smoke and burned up. Mike force chased relentlessly, to the point where his tanks and M113 run over dead, dying and generally any East Germans unable to avoid death from being crushed under the thread of the vehicles. "Good job folks. Now let's go back to our lines and gather up any survivor. My tanks will cover you up. And be quick..." Mike spoke up, tension in his voice. He's more concerned by what is about to come at Bravo and Charlie position.

2x T-55AM2 catastrophic kill
4x T-55AM2 probable kill
2x T-55AM2 missed
4x BTR-60 catastrophic kill
2x BTR-60 heavily damaged
2x BTR-60 escaped
Unknown, heavy casualty on infantry

[Relikai]

August 4, 1985, 0525
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER

---

Bravo Company

The firing of the 105mm guns did well to stop the obsolete T-55 tanks, their thin armor unable to put much of a defence against modern weapons. Adding to injury would be the Dragon missiles, managing to pick out at least 4 tanks, the mechanized platoons contributing to the battle in their own way. The artillery continued for a while, before coming to a stop, the infantry moving to the rear with the tanks where their M113s awaited them. A few men would not make it back, but their bodies were recovered as the thick smoke obscured both sides, giving them pause the treeline was successfully evacuated.

"Achilles. Abrams Company. Thanks for the cover." Was the call from Bravo's company commander, the rest of the infantry mounted as they moved together with the tanks along the road, passing by a few sporadic squads of infantry, their anti-tank weapons pointed towards the East with the ITV's behind them.

---

Charlie Company

As Charlie, led by Michael Grayson entered the fray, choosing to advance while Bravo retreated. The M60s were adequately protected, not as well as the M1 Abrams but still providing decent protection against the T-55's 100mm guns. The East German armor stood little chance against the Pattons, and the BTRs were caught in the middle of dismounting their infantry. However, they were not completely defenceless, as RPGs began streaking towards the small attack force, with more then a few striking the hulls of the M60s.

It was difficult to penetrate at that range however, but Gungnir began to brew up, a sign of things to come. The M113s were less fortunate, with only about half managing to dismount before 14.5mm shells tore through their hulls, crews either being forced to bail or having their transports chewed up to pieces. The Dragon teams hardly had time to prepare their weapons as PKM LMGs forced them into the ground, East German infantry starting to assault their positions with assault rifles raised.

Just as Grayson gave the order to retreat, Gungnir exploded, a fireball erupting from its charred hull as T-72s began to appear, their formidable 125mm guns causing havoc among the American infantry. Even worse for the NATO forces - The Dragons weren't as effective against the frontal armor of the mainstay of the Soviet armored forces, the infantry managing to catch one T-72 before its comrades fired in response, decimating the exposed firers. Grayson's tank began to smoke from a direct hit, as the crew bailed, the two husks left abandoned as Alpha company lost two precious tanks.

It would be a rout, if not for Charlie's fire-support spotter, bravely aiming their laser towards the incoming tanks as the ground rocked around them.

<< CHARLIE to ANVIL. Request Copperhead at our position. We will be lasing the target. >>
<< ANVIL CHARLIE. Copperhead strike confirmed. >>
<< CHARLIE to THUNDER, CHARLIE to THUNDER, requesting air support east of the white smoke. Hostile armor on the move, approaching our position. >>
<< THUNDER CHARLIE. Copy. >>

The counter-charge by the East Germans was the last straw for Charlie's men, the infantry beginning to rout back into the smoke as the East German infantry closed in. Well disciplined and well equipped, what East Germany lacked in technology was made up with discipline and competence not even the Bundeswehr could emulate. The tide swept across the open ground, T-72s leading the embattled motorised companies as they cleared their section of the smoke of Americans, the thumping of artillery causing a few casualties followed by the A-10s, Maverick missiles taking out an additional two T-72s before breaking off.

---

"Smokescreen. Possible for the enemy to advance under cover." The plotter announced, relaying the reports of the front back to the command post. "Abrams preparing to fall back with Bravo, Charlie's holding position."

The sudden blast across the air and the rocking of the ground shook the coffee mug, as Joseph turned to the East. He knew what it meant well enough, being a defender during many of the North Vietnamese attacks during the Vietnam War. This was severe however, shells from proper Russian SPGs hitting the frontlines. Although the Abrams are well protected, a lucky hit might still penetrate its top armor, something the Carnation was capable of doing.

"Arty arty arty. Achilles is falling back to the secondary defence line near the outskirts of town. Bravo Company is moving as well. Casualties light for the dug-in infantry. Charlie... Grayson led an attack beyond the smokescreen, casualties heavy. About a dozen survivors from what we can hear, retreating in their transports. No armor survived."

"You got to be kidding me. Attacking enemy positions without friendly support? Wasn't it reported that the armor was nearby in an open plain?" Joseph swore as the A-10s roared above him, the M109 artillery guns firing in support of Charlie's observer. The calls for fire support would soon cease, the observation vehicle a flaming wreck.

"No matter. The ITVs and infantry in the woods will ambush them along the roads. T-72s would not do well crossing the woods without getting bogged down. Bravo did well, get them to position however they'd like among the buildings. Infantry squads to support the armor."

Nearly a whole company in Charlie wiped out from the reckless order of a commander, Joseph thought. They had already inflicted respectable casualties among the enemy, and facing them in town with the cover of hardened structures at range would be acceptable.

<< BRAVO, ACHLLES. Regroup either at town or midway with the ITV platoon. Limited engagement against approaching armor along the road. The infantry will cover your flanks against the enemy foot. Fall back if artillery comes, and watch out for Frogfoots. Command reports of enemy air around the area, out. >>

[Vacif]

1st Lieutenant Christian Lambert
August 4, 1985, 0530
RALLY POINT DELTA, HANOVER
CALLSIGN: ACHILLES

---

With the land obscured in smoke, the Volks pressed their concealment to its fullest to traverse as much land as they could. They surged forward, likely emboldened by the T-72s coming to support their advance, and the decrease in the volume of oncoming fire. Mann breathed steadily through his nose and out his mouth, calm on the outside, but his blood was pumping, adrenaline coursed through his body as he had what felt like the power of the lord at his disposal. Knocking out the previous tanks in a single hit helped amp up his excitement, but he kept a lid on it. In his hands he twirled a red and black poker chip between his fingers. Then, a boxy figure began to crest the hill they once held. "Engage!" Lambert ordered.

The T-55 stopped dead in its tracks as its exposed lower was struck through and through, disabling the tank on the hill. "Scratch one." replied Mann, to which Lain literally scratched a tally into the inside of the tank. Then came the metal rain. Outside of the tank, 122mm shells could be heard whistling through the air. No one would be able to see them, but assuming they weren't standing beside a tank, could probably hear them. The treeline was lit up with explosions, Lambert grimaced as he and his men recovered from the initial shock of the artillery.

< < ACHILLES to ANVIL. Hostile artillery fire. We are falling back to midway, out. > > Lambert switched over from the auxiliary frequency back to his main channel with his platoon. < < ACHILLES to ACHERON, we are falling back to midway, how copy? Over. > >

< < ACHERON here, solid copy. Falling back to midpoint. Over. > >

< < Roger that. ACHILLES, Out. > >

"Driver, pull us out!"

"Already on it LT! Hold onto something!" replied the Sergeant.

As more live shells began to fall on their position, Lambert understood why they hadn't seen as many tanks cresting onto the hill. The ground near them exploded, and he could hear shrapnel thunking against the hull. He hoped that the infantry were dug in well enough, and weren't getting too badly battered. He wasn't sure if the artillery was anti-tank, or anti-person, but he wasn't keeping his men there to find out. Everyone grit their teeth and subconsciously held their breaths as they relied on Edgar's driving to get them out of the situation alive. Derek had his cross necklace between his lips as he gripped the ammo rack. Aaron clenched his poker chip, and Edgar was too focused on driving. Christian simply laid back in his commander's chair and tapped his watch consistently. Not impatiently, but more like an unconscious habit when nervous. A tick he developed growing up as a result of his brothers terrible driving growing up.

Breaking out of the tree-line, ACHILLES and ACHERON made it to the mid-point. They released a collective sigh, but trading one combat zone for another. M113s armed with AT weapons flanked them. And WARPAC tanks were racing for them in typical WARPAC doctrine, get in close before NATO far support could get any shots in. Peering into the commander's periscope, he was surprised to see the oncoming dust trails weren't the product of Volk T-55s, but Volk T-72s. He supposed they could have pushed up close behind them from Charlie's flank or something. He didn't have eyes on Charlie so he couldn't say for sure, nor had he have thought they'd be so close to the T-55 vanguard. He remembered that ANVIL had informed him back in the briefing room that the Reds were bringing their heaviest tubes. The Volk, like their western counterpart would not be backing down.

"Target sighted. Mann, T-72, 2300. Bearing zero-six-eight." Announced Lambert.

"Copy. Got him in my sights."

"Locked and loaded!"

"Fire!"

The 105mm APFSDS struck and penetrated the hull of the T-72. The force of the cannon would have knocked the air out of any crewman not inside of a vehicle or behind something very solid. The impact site on the T-72 belched black smoke as a fire began to grow inside. It's hulking corpse stopped dead in the middle of the road.

"That's a kill." he announced.

Near by, another 105mm cannon boomed < < Deflectiong. Let's reposition. > > came the familiar voice of the First Sergeant.

"Copy that. Edgar, get us mobile again while we reload and find a new target."

"Got it."