Tales of the Ranch - Phoenix Rising

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 9


Z Day Plus Six Hours


“More IU forces gathering,” said the Colonel to the AFNAS General.

“Which flank?” he asked.

“To the south this time,” said the Colonel and pointed at the old style map. Unusual since the battlefield was largely electronic now, the paper map was a tried and true principle that didn’t need power or batteries and wasn’t fragile if dropped. “Looks to be a brigade assault here.”

“Forces in the area?” asked the General.

“Two battalions more or less,” said the Colonel.

“More or less?” he asked.

“The remains of three partial battalions that were slapped together into one and another just forming up,” said the Colonel.

“Have we overextended our lines?” asked the General.

“Not yet sir,” said the Colonel. “Once we get through to Griffon and Minotaur we can send those forces back to the flanks. We already have them pinned in place, but we have to surround them in order to take them out and that takes more manpower.”

“Like they have us surrounded,” remarked the General with a smirk.

“Plus we’ve had some airborne units coming in through the perimeter. Nothing more than squad sized elements, but it’s something,” said the Colonel.

“Like slapping a band aid on a gunshot wound,” said the General. “Make plans to pull back three hundred meters in those sectors we are out to a click and a half. Put those airborne troopers and special ops guys onto building the next line of fighting positions…here, here and here.”

“We can hold this ground,” said the Colonel.

“And we can hold this better. It slopes upward, giving us the defensive edge,” said the General.

“Rain and winds are a concern as well. The last battle on the western sector wasn’t easy,” said the Colonel.

“Our backs are against the wall, literally,” said the General. “We have to make sure our shots count and are on target.”

“The 5.56 is betting blown around pretty good,” said the Colonel.

“I know and I told them I thought we should go to the 7.62. But did they listen to me? No, of course not. ‘No General, we already have the production ready for the 5.56’ they told me. And as sure as shooting, no pun intended, we are having issues with that light round getting blown around. Speaking of which, how are the supplies coming along?” asked the General.

“We’ve just about gotten everything off the dead and out of the water. The weapons that could be salvaged have been stripped from the armored vehicles we lost and we have supply points set up for every sector. Antitank weapons we are still short on for the most part, but we can still hold our own for a few engagements,” said the Colonel. “Small arms ammo should hold for a while as well.”

“For how long?” asked the General as an orderly came running up.

“Sir! We’ve broken through to Griffon Beach!” he announced.

“Where at?” asked the General.

“Along the shore! IU units are in retreat in that area and we are in pursuit!” he announced.

“Tell them no further than a kilometer inland. Once they hit that magic number, pull up and start digging in. Consolidate and tie in the lines with the forces in that area,” ordered the General as he observed a map and indicated where he wanted the troops. “And get me online with the Nicaraguan General commanding in that area.”

The orderly scurried away to get the Latin American General on the radio and relay the other orders. The General continued to look at the map and the gathering forces in the area.

“I’m kind of surprised they haven’t hit us in force yet,” said the General. “Not that I’m complaining or anything about the piecemeal fashion they are throwing their units in here.”

“Satellite recon shows divisional sized formations here and here. One looks to hit Gorgon Beach and the other hitting Pegasus,” said the Colonel.

“Not going to be pretty,” said the General. “It’s a bar fight with no holds barred.”

********************

I watched as the lead IU formations started coming through the gaps in the hedges again. Not like before, but this time with a purpose and deliberately doing their tactical movements. Provided they were being pushed around by the winds and were having a hard time staying in a tactical formation, but they were advancing. The rains and winds were coming harder now and I wondered why on earth we had ever attempted an invasion knowing this kind of weather was coming in the aftermath. We could hold the ground as long as we were properly supplied and had additional manpower. But getting said manpower and supplies in this storm was going to be impossible.

I peered through my scope at the advancing lines and knew throwing one of my bullets out towards them would be a total waste of ammunition unless I got really lucky. First it wasn’t sighted for me and the winds would make a plaything of my round, even the vaunted 6.5 round. But I had managed to battle sight both the iron sights and the optic and would be able to refine the placement one the shooting started. But the Lieutenant Colonel we were assigned to told us not to fire until we saw the whites of their eyes. Kind of an odd historical lesson there, but one that was worth repeating and one that should be able to help us conserve ammunition and make kills instead of misses.

I continued peering at them as my radio operator shifted uncomfortably in the position. We had added some overhead cover along the way which helped protect us a little from the artillery fire. It was falling again, somewhat sporadically since the winds pushed them around as well, but it did give us pause for thought.

“Find any targets?” asked Lieutenant Winfield.

“Plenty sir, but at this range?” I said.

“What are they sitting at?” he asked.

“About nine hundred,” I said. I could have made that sort of shot in normal calm conditions and with a rifle I was comfortable with, but not now.

“Open fire at two hundred. We hold them by the nose and kick them in the crotch,” he said and moved on. He seemed to be spending a little more time near my squad, probably because I was the most junior of squad leaders. And not that I minded and I preferred to have a little more experience around when the shooting started. I found out most of the other squad leaders except Staff Sergeant Gilbert had bought it coming across the beach. And Lieutenant Axe had been hit and had been medevaced away to England on some of the last flights out. He seemed pretty promising as a combat leader, but sometimes all it took was that lucky shot.

They moved closer now, again, hampered by the winds and the sheet rain that was coming down pretty hard. It made life miserable in the positions as we were starting to deal with the mud as well as the puddles of water in the bottom of the positions that were getting deeper. Luckily enough, the rain had helped wash the salt water out of our uniforms and we were not as uncomfortable as before. But we were still wet, cold and fighting back the chills associated with same. But right now we concentrated on the advancing units, another battalion sized attack. Further south there were reports of a brigade level assault and the rumors said the other beaches were preparing for divisional engagements. I hoped they could hold and heard sporadic reports we were tying into Griffon Beach on our left flank. At least we had some relief so to speak and things were going a little more as planned. Pegasus Beach and Centaur Beach had already linked up, but were under heavy counterattack.

The range was now at five hundred. Again, a distance I would have enjoyed engaging at since the IU officers were more noticeable in the weather directing their troops. I tended to go after the leadership and the heavy weapons as those were my target listing, but for now I had to wait. An automatic grenade launcher sent out several bursts, the grenades getting blown all over the place as well as some exploding in midair from the impacts of the rain. But they did manage to give the IU something to think about. They still pressed forward, obviously they knew out weapons were just about as useless at range as theirs were.

********************

“Keep moving!” ordered the IU Major as he pushed against the rain blowing in from the side. He knew it was madness to try and attack in this weather, but then again, the FNC hadn’t been very accommodating to invade at that point in time. But he knew as soon as they swept the forces clear of the beach, they could return to their garrisons and attempt to weather out the storm. But the FNC forces were being persistent and not really dying off like they should have.

“We believe the lines are to the front! Six hundred meters!” yelled a Lieutenant.

“Keep pressing forward and find them. Once we get them locked into place, the second battalion will hit their flanks,” he yelled in return to be heard over the howling winds. More grenades landed in the area and the troops hit the ground. “Tell them to get moving! The sooner we can kill those infidels, the sooner we can return to garrison!”

“Yes sir!” yelled the Lieutenant and shouted the orders over the radio.

********************

“Leading elements are at three hundred sir,” I said into the radio.

“Roger, we wait for the main body to get to two hundred and open fire,” said Lieutenant Winfield.

That would put the scouts within a hundred meters of our position, but they could be taken out a lot easier at that range than the extended range. But it still gave the main body thirty seconds or thereabouts to close the gap with our lines at a full charge. We were cutting this one pretty close I thought as the main body crept a little closer. The lead platoon diverted its path slightly as it headed more towards second platoon’s ground than ours. But eventually the forces were almost in range when a shot was fired. The main body was at two-fifty, close enough I supposed as more forces started firing. A general call to open fire was sent across the front and we engaged the targets in our sector.

I took aim at an officer or NCO who seemed to be prompting the troops. Since I hadn’t fired my rifle yet, I could see the round strike a little low and right of where I wanted it to. I made some quick adjustments on the scope and sent another shot towards another leader who had emerged. It hit closer to center this time and I started firing faster since I could guide the shells in rather than try to adjust the scope more. I concentrated and found several leaders as well as machine gunners. I took aim at another machine gunner who was attempting to set up his PKM machine gun and fire across our lines. A single shot wounded him and the assistant gunner tried to take over. He also was hit by someone else as the firing increased from our lines. It was like we were all aware it was the last of the ammunition so no burst fire was heard. Semi-auto was the rule of the day and we started finding our marks despite the weather.

A squad was advancing towards my position. They had us bracketed and were starting to pour some effective fire onto us. I fired again at an advancing infantryman and ended up hitting him before shifting targets and missing on a second. My buddy was firing as well and managed to hit two himself. We continued to fire and reloaded until the attack started to waver. The winds were just too strong and they were being blown off their feet as they tried to advance. We continued firing at them as they attempted to move forward, but the winds were just too strong. I could see officers and NCOs calling them back as the small groups attempted retreat.

We continued to fire even though they were leaving since we knew for a fact they would return again. It was better to kill them now rather than wait around for them to come back when the weather was good. But eventually they were out of range and firing slowly died down over the line.

“Get a LACE report from our guys,” I said to my RTO.

He began calling the foxholes of my squad and found the liquids were still okay, ammo expenditures were minimal, only one casualty which could be treated on scene and all equipment was accounted for. I passed these numbers on to Lieutenant Winfield and immediately started making more corrections to my scope based on seeing where my rounds impacted during the brief battle. A resupply runner came by, dropping off two full magazines for the RTO and another twenty rounds of loose ammo for me. Another dropped a ration apiece for us and headed off with the other to finish the resupply run I reloaded the rounds and put a fresh magazine into my rifle while looking over the ration to decide whether or not I wanted to eat right then.

“Looks like you’re doing okay,” said Lieutenant Winfield as he approached my position.

“Only one casualty,” I said. “Guy in Bravo Fire Team got hit in the arm, but he’s okay and going to stay on the line.”

“He can head back and get checked out by the medic,” said Winfield.

“I’ll let him know,” I said and got out of my foxhole. “Start finishing the overhead cover.”

“Roger that Sergeant,” said the RTO as he got his rifle and started getting out of the hole. The rains were coming down hard now as I checked on the other foxholes. Delacruz already had the Private assigned to him completing his overhead cover.

“Going to take more than that to get through us,” he said with a grin.

“This storm’s ruining their attacks,” I said. “Once the weather clears, it’s a different story.”

“Once the weather clears, the second wave will be here,” he said.

I hoped the Generals, Marshals and Admirals were planning on that. I figured there were several thousand troops sitting in England right now plenty mad they weren’t here in the fighting. But then again, they didn’t have to deal with the rains or winds like we were. I knew this fight wasn’t over by a long shot and eventually they would get their chance to experience what we were going through.

********************

“We cannot attack through this weather! My troops are getting blown off their feet!” exclaimed the IU Lieutenant Colonel after he returned to the forward command post.

“You must attack!” growled the IU General.

“Sir, we have to have armored support to at least get within striking distance to the infidel’s lines. Our troops must fight through the weather and are exhausted by the time they reach within range of their weapons,” said the Lieutenant Colonel sensibly.

“We don’t have the vehicles to spare,” said the General.

“Then bring up a unit that does!” growled the Lieutenant Colonel. “My people are dying for nothing!”

“Watch your tone Colonel!” growled the General.

“I will not continue to watch my boys fight and die for nothing! We cannot continue this attack unless we have armored vehicle support bringing us closer to the fight!” he shot back.

The General contemplated relieving the insubordinate officer on the spot, but he knew he was right. There was no sense in continuing the attacks until they could get the proper support they needed. With the winds, artillery fire was sporadic at best and generally blown off course before it detonated. And they were throwing their troops into battle piecemeal and having them hacked up, piecemeal.

“Get me General Malik on the radio,” he ordered to one of his staff. “See to your battalion. Consolidate and prepare to join with Second Battalion.”

“Sir, General Malik is on the radio,” said a Sergeant as he handed over the handset.

“What are you going to tell him?” asked the Lieutenant Colonel.

“The same thing I said before and what you just reminded me of. In order to defeat this invasion, we must strike hard, but with planning and in superior numbers,” said the General.

********************

“Sir, the link up is complete and we have consolidated the lines with Griffon,” said a Captain in the Sphinx Beach command post.

“Are we spread thin?” asked the General.

“Not especially,” said the Captain. “We are still sorting out the defensive arrangements.”

“And the other beaches?” asked the General.

“Still having trouble with Minotaur. However, Gorgon and Centaur have linked up as well as Pegasus and Centaur,” said the Captain.

“Can they hold?” asked the General.

“Gorgon was hit pretty hard, but the ANZAC division there is holding their ground. Centaur is in slightly better shape. Pegasus and Minotaur are holding fast, but under heavy counterattack. Griffon seems to be okay for the moment,” said the Captain.

“So we haven’t seen the worst fighting?” asked the General.

“Most of the armored attacks have been against Gorgon, Pegasus and Minotaur. We’ve only had infantry attacks with light armored support,” said the Captain.

“When can we expect the link up with Minotaur?” asked the General.

“The battalion commander thinks the last positions should fall within the next hour,” said the Captain. “After that, the lines should open between us and Minotaur.”

“Who’s doing the assault?” asked the General.

“The Dutch light infantry battalion sir,” said the Captain.

“Good troopers,” said the General. “Continue to punch through. We need to get those lanes open.”

“Sir!” shouted a major from a computer terminal. “Forces are massing on our southwestern flank!”

“What kind and how many?” asked the General as he went to the terminal.

“Looks to be an armored battalion of tanks, type unknown,” said the Major. “As well as a mechanized infantry battalion and maybe another forming up here.”

“How good are the defenses in this sector?” asked the General.

“They’ve had a couple of minor attacks, but nothing armored yet,” said the Captain.

“Anything else shaping up?” asked the General.

“Nothing in our sectors. Another infantry attack against Griffon on the western flank,” said the Major. “Maybe another forming up against Minotaur near the gap in our lines.”

“Trying to push into the beach?” asked the General.

“It’s what it looks like sir,” said the Major.

“Release the Scorpion company and get them ready to roll,” said the General. “And the remainder of the antitank vehicles as well.”

“Yes sir,” said the Captain.

“Not looking good sir,” said the Major as he continued to watch the enhanced satellite imagery coming from inland in France.

“We didn’t expect it to,” said the General.

“Would have been a lot easier had we gotten reinforced,” said the Major.

“We’ll hold,” said the General. “We’ll hold not because we have to, but because we can.”

[C-POP]

When ya got no where to go ya have to hold !
Great Read !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's almost like you're there getting wet !!

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 10


Z Day Plus 16 hours


“Incoming!” shouted someone up the line as we heard the shells impacting once again. And unlike before, we didn’t even hear them coming down as the winds were horrible right then. It wasn’t easy controlling a squad in such weather, or any other unit for that matter. But we knew the IU was positioning to attack again since they started sending in the artillery shells into our positions. They probably wouldn’t be hitting anything, but the randomness wouldn’t help us at all and we hunkered down into our positions.

“What’s heading in?” asked my buddy, Private First Class Hal Marks.

“Don’t know yet,” I said, almost yelled, in return. The weather was really bad.

We continued to watch as best as we could, but with the sheet rain falling, we weren’t really able to see much to our front. The radio announced our current troubles. It was breaking up slightly and the operator had to yell to be heard, but what we heard concerned us.

“…advised…thirty tanks and infantry fighting vehicles…advancing…displacing at this time, over,” said the voice of the LP/OP over the radio.

This time we wouldn’t be facing a purely infantry threat with some armored vehicles as support. This time we would be facing tanks and infantry fighting vehicles. Not good for our situation. I could hear the rumble of engines somewhere nearby and hoped we had sufficient antitank weapons to deal with the threat. We had some of the man pack stuff, the M136s, M72A9s, FGM-148s and the M150 Broadsword antitank missiles. The M150 was relatively new, slowly replacing the Javelin system as it was smaller and lighter, but packed the same punch as the older system. But I really hoped they wouldn’t get close enough to us to be put into use. And with the winds, the weapons weren’t going to be easy to fire since they would get blown off course very easily. We would have to wait until they were uncomfortably close to fire.

The diesel engines were louder now, straight indications they were IU vehicles since our tanks all used gas turbine engines. Ours were a lot quieter than theirs and we knew it only meant trouble. But something else was heard, something like a huge zipper being pulled somewhere close by. I had no idea what it was until I saw the streak of an A-10C Warthog screaming by, way lower than it should be. It didn’t seem to be flying that well, but I saw the nose dip once again and another cannon burst come from its nose at some target beyond the tree line. It came up once again and turned skyward, getting pushed by the winds as it did before the pilot had to level off to attempt to get the aircraft under control. Another A-10 was repeating the process on the IU formation, but at a higher altitude.

I saw the aircraft come around once again, but the winds seemed to be pushing them all over the sky. I knew they would be of limited use, but the fact they were up there gave us hope. But our hope started dying down as we saw an antiaircraft gun unit shred the second A-10 with its 23mm cannons as it started another run. The aircraft went away trailing smoke from both engines and a fire started on the left wing. The pilot popped out fairly close to our positions after turning back south. The aircraft eventually crashed somewhere beyond our visibility and we heard the detonation of the unexpended munitions on board. The first A-10 circled around before firing once again and the tracer fire chasing it out over our lines. The pilot made one last attempt to dive in, but had to pull off and lowered his altitude before heading back north.

“Cover me!” I yelled as I saw the pilot being blown around pretty good and coming in for a hard landing near our foxhole. I saw Lieutenant Winfield and another member running that way as well. I managed to get there just as the pilot hit the ground.

“Friendly coming in!” I shouted at him as I was running full speed. The artillery was still dropping randomly in our sector and I wanted to make sure the pilot got to safety since his skills would be needed again in the future. I got to him just as the parachute started wrapping him up and blew him to the ground. As I approached, I pulled out my strap cutter and saw the pilot attempting to get untangled from the material and getting more tied up as he did so.

“Hold on! I’m going to help!” I shouted to be heard over the wind. I started cutting the random cords and material and heard a very feminine voice cussing enough to make a sailor blush under the material. She finally stopped struggling and I managed to cut away enough of the material for her to assist. Once she realized we were friendlies, she let us finish cutting away the parachute before another impact of an artillery round caused us to seek cover in the nearest crater. We were dashing that way when she suddenly stopped and ran towards her seat.

“I’ve got to grab something!” she yelled at me as I followed. The yelling of Lieutenant Winfield for us to stop and come to the crater could be heard over the storm, which I found pretty impressive given the weather conditions. She grabbed at her survival kit and unstrapped the MP7 before following me back to the crater while the shells landed nearby.

“Are you two certifiable?” demanded Winfield as we dove into the crater as another four shells landed in quick succession nearby.

“Had to grab my weapon,” said the pilot.

“Coulda waited!” he yelled in return. “You okay?”

“Already getting sore,” she returned. “Cheryl Pearce.”

“Al Winfield,” he returned and shook her hand. “We’ll try to get you an escort back to the rear.”

“All for it,” she replied as another shell landed nearby. She shucked off the G suit and prepared the weapon just in case she needed it. The rain was coming down harder now as we heard the diesel engines coming closer.

“Any more aircraft coming in?” asked Winfield.

“Probably not,” she replied. “There were four of us that tried to get in. One had to divert early because of an engine flameout from the rain, the second had to turn back after getting a lightning strike that destroyed the electronics and my flight leader and I were the last two. We were seeing if it was even possible to fly support in this weather. We’re not doing a whole lot of good up there with these winds and probably can’t come back until they die down.”

“It helps some,” said Lieutenant Winfield. “Private, escort the pilot back to the beach.”

But more artillery landed nearby denying the two to make the break for safety. They jumped back into the crater with the pilot landing right on top of Lieutenant Winfield spread eagle. He seemed a little embarrassed, but set her down gently as more shells landed.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No problem,” he grinned back. The shelling lasted two more minutes before it came to a stop and gave us our opportunity to get back to our positions. The Private led the pilot off on the quick trip to the beach where she would probably serve some purpose with the staff in the rear. I had no idea what the others were doing that weren’t infantry but I supposed she could maybe help in the hospital which was starting to overflow. I ran back to my foxhole and found the one in a million shot had landed right inside the position. It’s one thing to have overhead cover from splinters, but another when the delayed action 152mm shell lands right in the middle of the position. All that remained of my foxhole was a deep crater, blackened by the explosion and resulting fire. It scared me to think I could have been in there when the shell landed, but I had more important things on my mind right then.

I heard the diesel engines of the tanks moving forward and looked to see if any of the antitank weapons had survived the blast. I couldn’t find any of them and called over my internal radio to Winfield and let him know I was down a man already. He was on both the radio nets and sent one of our reserve fire teams to help cover the gap in the lines. Once they were in place, I headed over to the position with Delacruz and whomever he happened to be with. It was bad that I didn’t even know half my squad’s names and certainly not something that they ever taught you about. I could see infantry running through the gaps in the hedgerows and towards our lines. However, instead of the typical IU camouflage pattern, they were wearing the digital camouflage of the U.S. forces. About half carried AKMs and the others carrying FNC issued weapons. They were running at full speed screaming at the top of their lungs as they approached.

“Aardvark! Aardvark! Aardvark!” I could hear over the winds coming in. I told Delacruz to cover me and went forward slightly to figure out who they were. If they were running that fast, I knew the IU had to be hot on their heels. They saw my waving arm and started heading towards our position, running faster and still stumbling from being blown around in the winds.

“101st Airborne coming in!” shouted one of their number as he helped someone up and continued running towards my position. I sent them behind the lines and saw Winfield running towards them as well. The leader saw the last man come through and turned to me. “That’s the last one, nobody else is friendly.”

I informed Delacruz to start lighting up anyone else that came through the line behind them. Lieutenant Winfield was behind the lines speaking with the leader of the party.

“Lieutenant Winfield, AFNAS 1st of the 1st,” he said.

“Sergeant Major Dunham, U.S. 3rd of the 502nd,” said the Senior NCO as he emptied a canteen and caught his breath.

“Where did you guys come from?” asked Winfield.

“We were part of the airborne drops the night before the landings. Got dropped way off course and were ambushed not long after landing. We’ve fought our way here,” said the Sergeant Major.

“What’s behind the hedgerows?” asked Winfield.

“Looks to be a battalion sized armored attack, maybe more. We hit a few crews to clear a lane to get here,” said the Sergeant Major.

“We’re expecting an attack at any time,” said Winfield and as he spoke, a tank broke through the hedgerow, followed quickly by a dozen more heading towards our position. They hadn’t fired yet, but they knew we were there. “Can you help fill in some gaps on our line?”

“Absolutely,” said the Sergeant Major as he started dividing up his troops and Winfield designated the positions for them to go to. He kept a squad back as reinforcements once again and started going back to our command post. I headed back to Delacruz and saw our antitank vehicles once again including two M1305s. Another new design, it was a standard Stryker vehicle with a GAU-8 30mm cannon like the A-10s carried. As soon as they pulled into position, the cannon started firing, sounding for the world like a large zipper and I saw the lead tank get peppered with the depleted uranium shells. It came to a stop before the hatches blew open from the exploding shells inside. They continued to engage as M6 Scorpion light tanks came forward and engaged the lighter vehicles with their 90mm cannons. More anti-tank missiles were sent downrange, fighting the winds as they flew towards the targets. Some were hit while others were blown off target and exploded nearby.

The infantry was spilling out of the vehicles, still well over a half a click away, but we started firing at them. It was a full sized battalion attack being sent our way and the infantry was starting to attack through. More anti-tank missiles were sent from positions and sent out to the armored threats. The IU infantry focused in on the back blasts created and started massing their troops towards that threat. One of the Scorpion tanks exploded from a direct hit by an IU T120. It was avenged by two of its comrades as the hypervelocity penetrating shells destroyed the tank.

The armored threat was being dealt with and we started concentrating on the infantry advancing towards us. They were within 300 meters now and we started firing at the targets as they appeared. The IU wasn’t being very friendly as they were shooting rocket propelled grenades towards the positions. Lucky enough the winds were strong enough to blow them off course, but it was still unnerving to watch as they headed towards our lines. A BMP-4 fired off its 30mm canon towards one of our positions, shredding the occupants inside before a LAW hit it right below the turret and destroyed the vehicle. The infantry dismounted, now within two hundred meters and started rushing our positions. Their charge was short lived as bursts from the machine guns found their marks and pinned them in place in the open fields.

Another of the Scorpion tanks was destroyed by an antitank missile fired from the far hedgerow. Our automatic grenade launcher saw the launch site and sent in a burst of grenade fire before moving on to the remaining infantry. The IU attack was being broken up, but the numbers were still on their side as they charged forward even more. I fired additional shots at whatever targets happened to be in my field of fire, ignoring the standing rules of firing on the leadership and machine gunners. I knew we had to stop them all before the regular riflemen overran our positions and it was a moot point to try to stop the single targets. I reloaded and saw Delacruz come out of the position for a better angle on the attackers.

We were side by side firing almost nonstop. Smoke was seen coming off my barrel and I knew my shots were starting to go a little wild since the rifle wasn’t designed to be fired for prolonged periods of time without having the chance to cool. I saw another advancing infantryman and fired another two shots at him, connecting with one before the next magazine needed to be loaded. The infantry was getting far closer than I really wanted as I continued to engage as fast as I could. I continued firing as the infantry advanced even closer.

My rifle ran dry just as the attack seemed like it was going to overwhelm us. I immediately dropped the empty magazine while reaching for a reload out of my web gear. But I was shocked when I found none were left and I had gone through my entire load this engagement. I slapped at all the pouches just to be sure and found I had no magazines left. I immediately dropped the rifle and grabbed at the pistol at my waist. I knew it wasn’t long range enough to take out the advancing enemy, but up close it would be fine. Delacruz continued firing at the advancing enemy and seemed to sense I didn’t have a rifle any longer and left the shorter range targets to me. Now firing at a hundred meters isn’t an easy task with a pistol, but I would at least give them something to think about.

They advanced quicker than usual and I continued to fire and reload. It looked like the right flank was about to be overrun and my pistol went dry just as I saw an IU infantryman coming to our right. I knew I didn’t have enough time to reload before he shot Delacruz, but I spied the revolver in the small of his back. His uniform top had come up enough to where it was visible and ready to be pulled. I grabbed at it and aimed down the sights before squeezing the trigger on the man just as he swung his AK around. The pistol bucked in my hand as I repositioned and laid my arms across his back and sent another two shots at the man. His attack stalled and he fell to the ground dying from the small magnum loads.

“Cover me!” I shouted and put the revolver back into his holster. I loaded my pistol as I ran and grabbed at the AK rifle lying ten yards from our position. I gave him a shot to the head as he was attempting to grab at his rifle and attack us once again. The web gear was easy to pull off since it was connected by straps I managed to cut with my knife. All the while, shots zinged by me as I scampered back to the foxhole, still covered by Delacruz.

“You know how to use that?” he asked as he fired another burst at an advancing infantryman.

“Absolutely,” I shouted as I started to check the chamber by pulling back the charging handle slightly. There was a round ready and I changed over to semi-automatic and looked out over the line for targets.

“Check to ten o’clock, squad coming in!” he shouted.

I looked and sure enough, another IU squad was bearing down on our defensive works. I aimed and fired, not knowing if the rifle was even sighted or not. I managed to hit the first man in the shoulder and figured out the Kentucky windage after about half a dozen shots. I managed to start hitting center mass before long and continued to fire and reload as the attack started stalling and the attackers were pulling back to regroup. We continued firing although they were in retreat and managed to hit more after they disappeared into the hedgerow.

“Ammo check!” yelled Lieutenant Winfield after the firing died down. Each person started looking over what ammo they had left and getting ready to relay that information to the runner going between the holes. A reserve platoon was sent up from the beach and quickly took up the positions in the line with the wounded and dead being sent to the rear to be patched up or put with the others. I received the reports from my squad of six effectives and relayed the reports to Lieutenant Winfield over the radio. While we had won, we were being worn down by the sheer numbers the IU was sending at us as our platoon of four squads was now down to about two squads of soldiers.

“What are you guys sitting at?” asked a Private as he came by our hole. He was a resupply runner sent in loaded down with ammo in his pack.

“Down five mags, I need two-ten to top off,” said Delacruz.

“I’m out of 6.5, need two-fifty to get fully loaded,” I said.

“No more 6.5 to be had for the moment, but I’ll keep checking,” he said and dropped off two boxes to Delacruz. “This’ll have to do for the moment.”

“It’s something,” he said and immediately started filling the empty magazines at his side. I helped out and we finished reloading in record time. Lieutenant Winfield came by for a quick visit.

“You guys hanging in there?” he asked.

“I’m out of ammo for my rifle Sarge…I mean Lieutenant,” I said.

“You got that AK, use it,” he said.

“Need more ammo sir,” I said.

“Sounds like you just volunteered to head out and get more,” he nodded at the dead and dying IU infantry. “Gather your squad as well as a fire team from Second. Get as much as you can, rifles, machine guns, ammo, grenades, whatever goes bang.”

“Got it,” I said and rallied my guys to head out and gather the weapons and ammo. It was bad that we had to rely on the IU weaponry to fight, but it was better than a pointy stick. I set one fire team for security and the other two started stripping the dead and dying of their gear. Instead of sorting out what they had in their web gear, we just took it off and sent it back as a whole unit for someone else to sort out. Packs were also picked up and I saw a team starting to strip the vehicles that weren’t burning for machine guns, ammunition and anything else that was useful. I saw one taking out the charges for the autoloading tank cannons. While we didn’t have a good way of detonating them, they could prove useful somehow. Others were stripping off the secondary heavy machine guns and the ammo belts before running back towards our lines. We didn’t have a fifty cal assigned to us, but with the addition of the IU DShK heavy machine gun, we now had something capable of turning cover into concealment.

As soon as we got our packs and hands full, we shuttled back to the lines, depositing it at the makeshift command post and immediately returned for more. We found a few wounded and got them behind the lines to be interrogated. In a half an hour, we heard shells starting to fall close to our sector and immediately gathered what was closest and got behind the lines. We found Lieutenant Winfield already had others reloading the IU magazines and handing out rifles to the units still on the line. I took my acquired AK and got seven magazines along with the three I already had. Delacruz and I returned to the line, himself having gotten an AK to use in case his own ammo ran out before he could be resupplied.

“This makes three big attacks and they still haven’t gotten past us,” he remarked.

“Got a little closer this time,” I said.

“Nice shooting,” he said and dug out three rounds to replace the ones I’d fired out of his revolver. He unloaded the cylinder and put the fresh ammo back in before sliding it back into the holster and checking his other arms.

“Does just fine for a last ditch, have to kill someone right now caliber,” I grinned.

He laughed along with me as we listened to the indirect fire to our left flank. The company in that sector was getting hammered pretty hard. Lieutenant Winfield came by for another visit.

“Have to steal Delacruz from you Donnie,” he said. “But I’ve got a replacement.”

“Where am I heading sir?” asked Delacruz.

“Taking over a squad from Bravo Company. They are fresh outa talent,” said Winfield. “Congratulations Sergeant, you just got another promotion.”

“Isn’t the first time sir,” he grinned.

“Make it the last time,” Winfield laughed in return. “Grab your things and go over to Lieutenant Young. He’ll show you where to go.”

“Roger that,” he said and grabbed at his pack, weapons and scurried behind the line heading towards Bravo Company’s sector.

“Come on over troop, Sergeant Donnie doesn’t bite,” said Lieutenant Winfield as he waved at the Private to his rear. The soldier dropped into the foxhole and looked a little nervous. “Private Matthias Blain, meet Sergeant Donald McIntyre, your new squad leader.”

“Any more replacements coming sir?” I asked.

“Not yet, Private Blain here is actually a finance specialist that somehow got mixed up and landed with the rest of us. But I’m sure you’ll help him along,” said Winfield.

“I’ll keep him alive,” I said. “You know how to use an AK?”

“No sir,” he stammered, a little nervous about being on the front lines. Sure they told them they could all end up there during basic training, but few ever expected to be on the front lines facing an entire division of pissed off Muslims who wanted nothing more than to kill us. And the fact they hadn’t yet grated at their brains since we were being far too persistent in our defense.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how,” I said with confidence, hoping to allay his fears.

“I’m sending out Smitty and Jenkins for a listening post right into the edge of that hedgerow. Keep an eye on them,” said Lieutenant Winfield as got ready to head up the line and check it once again. I saw the two figures depart from the front of the lines, making a mad dash to the obscured area to our front, at least four hundred meters out. I watched as they disappeared and headed into the hedges, watching and waiting for the new IU attack against our lines.

********************

“Sir, we’re simply overwhelmed by the numbers of wounded,” said the doctor in charge of the field hospital set up on the beach. “We cannot keep up.”

“What are we supposed to do?” asked the AFNAS General.

“We could arrange for a cease fire and send them over to the IU. They will probably abide by the international conventions and treat our wounded. They do it for pilots and others shot down, so they should do it now,” said the doctor.

“I’m not sure about that doctor,” said the General.

“Either we attempt to get them treated by the IU or they will certainly die here,” said the doctor.

“I’ll have my chief of staff set it up,” said the General after hearing more of the screaming of his soldiers coming from the aid station. While each and every soldier carried a first aid kit, there was only so much one could do with the few bandages they carried. The soldiers needed better medical care and a prisoner of war would receive better care than certain death on the beach.

“Sir, all beaches except Pegasus and Minotaur have linked up,” said a Chief Warrant Officer.

“Any idea on when they might break through?” asked the AFNAS General.

“The Dutch Battalion was hit pretty hard on the last assault. Two companies from the Pacifica Marine Regiment will be trying again in the next hour,” said the Chief.

“Can we lend them any support?” asked the General.

“Not without hurting our own positions. We are down to a little over a company of armor, seventeen tanks to be precise and limited antitank ammunition and missiles for the remainder of our forces. I’ve got the tank crews heading out and checking the IU tanks to see if they can still fire or be worked,” said the Assistant Division Commander for Support. He had taken over as the maneuver commander when the other Brigadier General was killed during the landing.

“Ammunition for our antitank systems?” asked the General.

“Minimal,” said the Brigadier.

“Fuel?” asked the General.

“Minimal,” said the Brigadier.

“Man pack weapons?” asked the General.

“Minimal,” said the Brigadier.

“Anything we aren’t short on?” asked the General.

“The enemy,” said the Brigadier with a sad smile.

“Then we’re in combat,” said the General. “What’s next?”

“The storm isn’t letting up. It stalled just like that forecaster said it would,” said a Major.

“You think we could get some good news?” asked the General.

“The good news? We are holding for the moment. We’ve taken serious casualties, but we are holding the ground,” said the Brigadier.

“For how long?” asked the General.

“Again, we are taking casualties, but we are also getting some of the airborne troops in to help with the defenses. What we’ve lost, we’ve almost regained with them,” said the Brigadier.

“Which will run out eventually,” said the General.

“Breaking through to the other beaches helped out a lot and once the last link up has been made, I would suggest we start looking at consolidating the beaches,” said the Brigadier.

“Already planned on it,” said the General.

“Sir! Looks like another attack is forming up!” announced another Major.

“Size?” asked the General.

“Looks to be another brigade level assault on the southern sector,” said the Major. “Showing armored vehicles and infantry massing.”

“Back to work and get some reinforcements into that area,” said the General. “It’s going to be a long night.”

[C-POP]

I got sand down my back and I'm wet ,how much worse could be .
What do ya mean I have to wait till later to eat .
Great read !!!!

[sabretech2001]

I waited to read this until there were several pages that I could go through all at once, and I'm glad I did because this is a very good tale. Good work, Grand, and I'm eagerly looking forward to more.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 11


Z Day Plus 28 hours


“Be advised, heavy infantry and armored support taking cover near our position,” said Private First Class James Smith into the radio. The rains were coming down in sheets right then making the attack thoroughly impossible to accomplish.

“Are they moving forward, over,” asked Lieutenant Winfield.

“Negative, attempting to take cover from the weather,” said Smitty.

“We might be getting a rest for a few minutes sir,” said Lieutenant Winfield to the current Battalion Commander, a Major.

“I’m reinforcing your platoon and the additional platoons with some of the airborne troops that came into the perimeter recently. Try and get your folks some rest, I figure they’re going to need it,” said the Major.

“Roget that sir,” said Winfield.

“Also, you’re now the Company XO. Lieutenant Young is acting commander and the next ranking officer is just too junior to take over. I need some experience out there,” said the Major.

“Kind of happy being just a Platoon Sergeant sir,” said Winfield.

“And I’d much rather have your kind of experience in the coming fight,” said the Major. “Besides, the retirement’s better.”

“If I live to collect,” said Winfield.

“You’re too stubborn to die,” chuckled the Major. “Your last company commander had some choice words over your mulish streak.”

“Some might call me a jackass instead of mulish sir,” grinned Winfield.

“Works both ways Lieutenant, works both ways,” grinned the Major. “Let me get over to what’s left of Delta Company.”

“Hit pretty hard?” asked Winfield.

“Took the brunt of an armored battalion. They have to be replaced entirely and I’ve got less than a platoon left,” said the Major.

“Won’t hold you back sir,” said Winfield as he went back to seeing over the defensive arrangements even in the roaring wind. The additional squad arrived as planned and was quickly put out on the line. I got one additional fire team and put them back into the gap in the line with Second Squad. We weren’t even trying to dig in at this time and used the craters from the artillery strikes instead. Luckily the artillery had stopped for the moment since the winds were blowing it way off target. The last round was about an hour before and blew the rounds completely off target and into the IU lines. It was kind of nice knowing they got a little steel rain on their heads instead of ours.

I wondered how everything else was going in the other sectors and how the second wave was faring. I kind of hoped they hadn’t been put on the boats yet since it wouldn’t be easy out in the ocean during all this, but then again, they probably had a roof over their head instead of sitting out in the rain like we were. I had changed uniforms during a brief lull in the fighting to get rid of the uniform that was still impregnated by the salt water and had been comfortable for all of about fifteen minutes before getting wet and miserable again. But at least the cloth didn’t chafe at me like before. Even though the rain knocked a lot of it out, it still was built up in places that would make you uncomfortable. However, I got to change everything out and was happy for the fact Lieutenant Winfield made us vacuum seal a set of clothing to make it watertight.

I heard an artillery barrage somewhere to the east. Heavy guns pounded the area and I wondered if the IU had moved in some heavier stuff to try and take us out. I couldn’t see the explosions, but could hear the deep rumbles even over the wind. And I continued to watch and wait for the expected attack.

********************

“Sir, we’ve got a possible contact, bearing zero-nine-five, range maybe six thousand, maybe making five knots,” said the sonar operator on the NASS Grundy. The destroyer was on picket duty on the eastern edge of the English Channel and was having a hard time detecting anything since the storm was battering the ship pretty well. But they attempted to find the contacts since submarines didn’t worry about the surface action. They couldn’t use the towed sonar array and had to rely on the simple sonar set attached to the bottom of the hull. But the weather was making it extremely hard to do anything.

“No firm contacts?” asked the Captain.

“Not really sir. It’s possibly an electric boat,” said the operator. “Send out active pings?”

“Get the aircraft into position,” said the Captain. A radio call was sent out to the nearest P-8A Poseidon patrol aircraft since it was impossible for their own helicopter to fly around in the 80 MPH winds right then. Not impossible to fly, but completely impossible to land after taking off as the weather would make it a plaything. Also since they had to be a lot lower than usual to pick up the signals from the sonobuoys, they stood a good chance of getting blown into the water. So they had to rely on the aircraft which flew slightly higher and were inherently more stable than the helicopters.

The aircraft eventually came down below the clouds and was quickly being buffeted around by the winds. But Boeing had built a tough product and the aircraft was stable for the moment. The crew dropped a series of passive sonar buoys along the line where the submarine might be.

“Nothing,” said a sonar operator from the back of the aircraft. “Let’s drop the next below the thermocline.”

Again further buoys were dropped and nothing was heard. Either the contact was false or the craft was very quiet. They expected it to be somewhat deep since the wave action wouldn’t be easy to deal with.

“Drop a line of active buoys. Three above and three below,” said the pilot. The sonar operator adjusted the sets and dropped the lines in as directed. He immediately got a contact.

“Contact! Target bearing two-six-five, range four thousand yards, depth two hundred,” shouted the operator. “Contact on passive buoy three! His torpedo doors are opening and tubes are flooded! Additional signal on buoy two!”

“Grundy, you copy? He’s almost right below you!” shouted the pilot.

“Hydrophone effects! Torpedo! Torpedo! Torpedo!” shouted the sonar operator on the Grundy as he heard the expulsion of two torpedoes towards the ship.

“Flank speed! Hard right rudder! Deploy the countermeasures!” shouted the Captain, but he knew it was too late. With the storm working against them, the submarine had been able to creep up and get into perfect firing position prior to strike at the ship. The range was under two thousand yards and the torpedoes were fast for their design. They struck fifteen feet apart and broke the ship in two. The Captain ordered the ship abandoned as he attempted to get out of the CIC before it flooded.

********************

“Target destroyed,” said the sonar operator on the IU submarine.

“We still have the aircraft to deal with,” said the Captain.

“Might I suggest we head north before heading back west, Captain?” said the First Officer.

“Yes, good idea. They will expect us to head south or west and attempt to strike at the battleships. Head north, full speed for ten minutes to clear the area,” ordered the Captain.

********************

“Madman! Madman!” shouted another sonar operator on the P-8. “Positive contact on magnetic detector! Smoke bomb dropped!”

The sonar operator dropped the small smoke bomb before the aircraft started a turn. However, the winds made a plaything of the light device and blew it far off course. The smoke was also quickly dissipated by the strong winds and the crew lost all contact with the marker.

“We’ll come back around and cross reference,” said the pilot as they started a pretty sharp turn in the winds. He lost control of the craft once and started flying a little more conservatively as they lined up for another run.

“Lost contact on buoy three and active DICASS,” said the sonar operator.

“Drop another line to the west. I want this sub,” said the pilot. He could hear the radio calls going out for rescue helicopters and ships, but if they didn’t act fast, it would be extremely hard to get them into position before the crew drowned. He pulled his aircraft around again and the winds blew it off course slightly before he was back on his heading again.

“Lost contact on all buoys sir,” said the operator after fifteen minutes of searching.

“Which direction?” asked the pilot.

“If I had to guess, he went back out east. The Channel is no easy place for a sub,” said the operator. “But he already made it past the initial line at Dover, so there’s no telling.”

“Let’s head west then,” said the pilot as the aircraft bounced around the sky once again.

********************

The IU submarine had crept away from the scene as it had gone north at full speed. The newer design had incorporated much of the German engineering that brought about the Type 212 submarines. When they were entirely safe, they restarted the diesel engine to provide new power to the batteries.

“Course Captain?” asked the Exec.

“Set two-two-five at eight knots towards Normandy,” said the Captain.

“They are surely tracking us towards that location,” said the Exec.

“Our orders are clear. Our forces are being shelled nonstop by those floating fortresses they call battleships. We are going to sink them,” said the Captain.

“Aye, aye. Set course two-two-five at eight knots,” said the Exec, not entirely comfortable with the mission. But orders were orders and they could take pride in saying they sank one of the large FNC battlewagons. The crew was almost finished reloading the torpedo tubes from their encounter and they knew it would take more than the two they had used in the prior engagement.

********************

“Reverse course so we can remain in contact,” said the Captain of the Mexican heavy cruiser the Veracruz. “Prepare the guns for inspection as we are turning, the crews have been lax in that department.”

“[I]Si, Se

[qrprat77]

Vamanos Navy!

Good read sir!

[RunAndGun]

I have been busy meeting myself coming and going. No excuse but I have been remiss in telling you how much I have enjoyed this story.

Thank you! I look forward to the next installment.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 12


Z Day Plus 36 Hours


I could hear a firefight somewhat near our positions. I had no idea who or what was fighting and our LP/OP hadn’t called in yet to let us know. We had come under some sporadic artillery fire at best but the expected ground attack hadn’t emerged yet. We had gotten reinforcements and they were busy digging in as best as they could in the winds and rains that were still whipping around the lines. My own squad of seven had been reinforced by one additional body, an airborne trooper that had come through the lines. I assigned her to one of the non-infantry bodies and they commenced to finishing out the position as best as they could. For non-infantry types, they were catching on to the concept of combat and infantry skills pretty quickly.

“Whiskey-Tango 61, this is Whiskey Tango 88 over,” said Private Smith from the LP/OP.

“Go ahead 88, over,” said Lieutenant Winfield.

“61, this is 88. I have friendly forces requesting pass through of the lines,” said Smitty.

“88, this is 61, I’ll send a ground guide up,” said Winfield. I saw a pair of members from Second Squad head towards the front lines, fighting against the wind before disappearing into the hedgerow to our front. They reappeared several minutes later with a large group of individuals in tow, thirty-two individuals in total. They sure didn’t look like the airborne troops that we’d been seeing recently.

I didn’t know if they knew, but they were probably better off out wherever they came from than inside our perimeter where we were getting constant harassment from the enemy. They looked to be one of the special operations outfits sent in to France in the days prior to the invasion, cutting communication lines, destroying command centers and generally harassing the IU before we landed. And furthermore, they looked tired as many of us did, but still alert. They were loaded to the gills with equipment, ammunition and packs, but not wearing any body armor or helmets like the rest of us. Their soft caps, camo paint and IU weaponry were a testament to their job behind the lines and they stuck out like sore thumbs with our normal infantry unit.

The leader of the group was met by Lieutenant Winfield somewhat close to my position and the two talked briefly. I snuck in a peek at the leader as he looked over the lines. His team departed towards the rear to replenish their supplies before hopefully they might spell us for an hour or two so we could get some sleep. I hadn’t slept in…I couldn’t remember how long right then, but I know it was all I wanted to do. Over the past day and a half, repeated adrenaline rushes and crashing back to earth were taking their toll on me. It was probably well over two, maybe even three days since I got any sleep. I felt like if I was able to catch a nap…just for an hour…I might be fine. Just a nap, I continued to think and didn’t realize I was dozing off until I was addressed.

“You okay trooper?” asked the leader of the team that had just entered the lines.

“Yes sir,” I said, unsure of his rank and figured “sir” would suffice for the moment. I shifted uncomfortably in my position, waking up and sitting more erect.

“Holding up okay?” he asked. He obviously knew I was heading for the land of sleep, but didn’t yell or scream at me about it. I felt he probably understood how tired we all were since he looked to be that way himself. And in talking to me, he was keeping me awake.

“Yes sir, just keeping watch in my sector,” I replied.

“You keep up the good work,” he replied with a pat on my back. “We’re going to relieve you in a little while so you can catch a nap. Think you can hold out for another couple of hours?”

“I can hold out as long as I need to,” I said with conviction. If he could brave jumping in behind the lines in advance of the invasion without support, I surely could be brave enough to show him I could hold my position. I saw him taping a piece of duct tape to his gear after writing in his name, service, rank and blood type onto the front. Other than that, his uniform was devoid of any indications he was a part of the military except for the really nice gear and common IU weapons.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said as he finished patting down the tape.

He peered out of the lines, taking into account the terrain and fields of fire. His unit would probably be assisting us in the defense. Most of the teams and airborne units were being resupplied and put immediately back on the line since we were on the short on everything except the enemy. And I think he picked up on my subconscious thoughts somehow.

“Hold the line, reinforcements are due in by tonight,” he said before pulling back from the edge of my position.

“I’ll keep you safe sir,” I said and continued my watch. I heard the man leave behind me and caught a look at his name tape as he left. I thought I had heard the name before, but couldn’t remember when or where at that moment. It finally hit me in my tired brain after thinking for several minutes. I finally realized this man and his unit were bona fide rock stars. At least it was something to tell my kids about one day if I survived this little part of my life. Yep, I met Major Thomas Dayfield and his team in Normandy. I helped protect them while they slept. He even gave me a pat on the back for doing my job. Sure did.

I let the thoughts go as I started looking back out at my sector again, watching and waiting for the next attack to form. His promise of reinforcements didn’t really give me any comfort since we were supposed to be reinforced six hours after the main invasion and had been promised more each and every hour since then. There had been attempts at airborne drops, but getting the C-130s in under the weather wasn’t easy and I ended up seeing some of the supplies being blown right out into the Channel. We didn’t have a great deal of real estate to be getting airborne drops, but at the same time, they had to try.

But maybe he knew something I didn’t and knew we were about to get reinforcements. And in thinking that, it gave me comfort to know we weren’t all going to be forsaken and die on this beach in a land far away from home. It gave me pride knowing my country was sending help and wouldn’t leave me to die there. Even though we were all from different nations in North America, we were working together to defeat a common threat. I heard more traffic from the LP/OP.

“61, this is 88,” I heard Smitty say. I could also hear the dull thumps in the distance of additional artillery fire.

“Go ahead,” I heard Winfield say.

“Be advised, I can hear armored vehicles massing to my front,” said Smitty.

“Can you observe, over?” asked Winfield.

“Negative sir, not without exposing my position,” said Smitty. The remainder of his transmission was cut off by massive explosions just past the hedgerow to our front. Large caliber artillery was falling on the front trace but missing the main defensive lines for the moment. I heard Lieutenant Winfield call for the LP/OPs to displace and come back into the lines. But they were pinned by the artillery for the moment and unable to move. More explosions were heard to our rear as the IU was liberally sending in fire to attack us. The winds were blowing it off course, but put enough shells downrange into our positions and eventually they might hit something. It wasn’t hard to liberally rake the area we happened to be in since we didn’t have enough room as it was.

“Incoming!” I heard Lieutenant Winfield yell immediately after the first mortar shell landed on our positions. The large scale explosions were stopping and the smaller rounds were an indication of an impending attack. They were smaller caliber than what we had before, sixty mil or so, but dangerous nonetheless. I immediately hit the ground and covered in the larger crater serving as my defensive fighting position, waiting for the current barrage to stop so I could continue trying to find overhead cover. But we also knew the mortars were typically followed by a ground attack. We needed to stick our heads up long enough to check our assigned sectors before jerking them back in at another explosion. I checked on my battle buddy assigned to the same foxhole before looking out. Nobody was approaching in our sector for the moment and I was content to pull my head back in after a shower of dirt hit my helmet.

“Anything?” Private Blain asked.

“No,” I said, still getting to know him after my original partner was killed during the landing on the beach. We hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity to bond, but in the previous attack, he had done just fine. We huddled down together as the explosions continued, both of us silently thanking the stars it wasn’t anything bigger than the annoying mortar rounds.

“You think we’re going to hold?” he asked, a little scared.

“I think we should be able to,” I said, trying to be brave, but the fear showing out in my voice despite my efforts to the contrary.

We both prepared for the expected assault as the mortar fire died down once again. But it never materialized and was just more harassment. However, we both knew it was a matter of time before the IU massed enough infantry, armor, artillery, aircraft or various combinations thereof and struck us once again. It had happened before, it certainly will happen again before we get done here I thought as I continued peering forward into the growing light of the beach at Normandy. The clouds were breaking up a bit, but the winds still swept though the lines with the same ferocity they had since right after we landed. I tightened my grip on my rifle as I saw a figure moving through the woods towards our position. However, as the figure appeared, I saw it was one of our listening posts coming back in from the front of the lines. He made his way towards our position before being stopped and admitted.

“What’s going on out there?” I asked, hungry for information.

“Lots of troops, like at least a battalion worth! Coming this way! I’ve got to get to the command post!” he exclaimed after drinking down half a canteen of water.

“Where’s Smitty?” I asked.

“Dead, got caught by an artillery round,” he said and scampered off towards the rear where our command post was.

“We can hold?” asked my buddy.

“Absolutely,” I said.

“What’s your name again?” he asked after a moment.

“Sergeant Donald McIntyre, from Georgia,” I replied. I knew he was making small talk because he was nervous and I tried to remain calm. But I was nervous as well and it probably showed. We had our backs to the wall, literally, and were holding on for dear life. Rescue wasn’t coming anytime soon as the planning was out the window four hours after the landings started, but we held on. We were cornered animals fighting for our very survival on these beachheads and knew there were only two ways out. Fight and possibly live or cower in a hole and certainly die…

********************

Z Day Plus 40 Hours


“We need to consolidate the beaches, if for no other reason than to give our blokes some rest and get a reserve force,” said the Colonel in charge of Gorgon Beach in an Australian accent. He was now the senior ranking individual on the beach after the remaining Generals had been killed.

“Can you make it over to Centaur?” asked the AFNAS General.

“We are barely holding open a route,” said the Australian Colonel.

“Start disengaging and move everyone and everything towards that beach,” he ordered. “Centaur Six, are you still online?”

“Go ahead Sphinx Six, I’m online,” said the German General in charge of the beach.

“Can you provide any support to evacuate Gorgon?” asked the AFNAS General.

“We can provide limited support, but are in the same position as they are. We have limited reserves,” said the German.

“How long before you can start moving?” asked the AFNAS General.

“I would prefer to wait until dark, but we should start moving supplies sooner,” said the Australian. “We have limited vehicle assets.”

“We can help with that,” said the German.

“Gentlemen, it is my intention to collapse the defenses on the beaches to a manageable level. We are going to abandon our positions on Gorgon, Centaur and Griffon and collapse to Sphinx, Minotaur and Pegasus. We cannot continue to hold each beach individually and will be picked off piecemeal,” said the AFNAS General.

“We’ve come too far to abandon land we’ve paid for in blood,” objected the Texan General at Pegasus Beach, although he liked the idea of reinforcements.

“We cannot hold each of these beaches. Either we consolidate six beaches into three and get some sort of reserve force, or we get picked off piecemeal and we lose our foothold on the continent. We even need to make plans to consolidate down to two beaches if it becomes necessary,” said the AFNAS General.

“When will we move?” asked the Nicaraguan General at Griffon Beach.

“You have the most reserves and the most secure lanes into Sphinx. We will get the outer beaches moved first, but as Gorgon-6 stated, do it under the cover of dark. We’ll move his beach first and then Centaur. Your beach will be last since we have a better grip on a line running between our beaches. An orderly retreat over the next twelve hours,” said the AFNAS General.

“How will we hold the line in the meantime?” asked the Australian.

“With whatever you have available. But the wounded get moved to the next beach. Those animals aren’t taking prisoners and will kill them, conventions be damned,” said the AFNAS General.

“And the remaining defenders?” asked the German.

“Will disengage and collapse towards the next set of defensive lines. As soon as the last person goes through, slam the door shut and close off the lines. We will continue to strengthen the lines between Pegasus, Sphinx and Minotaur so we have secure lines of communication and supply,” said the AFNAS General and turned to his senior combat engineer. “Start getting new positions built here, here and here.”

“We’ll get on it sir, but a lot of my boys are up on the lines helping fill foxholes,” said the Lieutenant Colonel.

“Grab the airborne and special ops outfits that came back into the lines to relieve them. We need those positions built more than rifle carriers,” said the General.

“Will do sir,” said the Lieutenant Colonel as he went out to carry out his assignment.

“And after we get the troops consolidated?” asked the NAU General on Pegasus Beach, silent until that point.

“We consolidate the units and get them back to somewhat of original strength. We can even look at limited counterattacks to gain some additional ground,” said the AFNAS General.

“You think that’s wise?” asked the Texan General.

“We have to give ourselves a little breathing room as it is. Positions to fall back to in case we need them in an ever shrinking perimeter. Shoot boys, we’ll all be out there on the line if it comes down to it,” said the AFNAS General.

“Imagine a bunch of Generals and Colonels filling the foxholes,” laughed the Texan. “That will give the enlisted folks something to laugh at.”

The group laughed at the momentary levity with the images the comment brought to their mind. But they also knew it was true, they could all very well end up defending the beach to the last man. They knew it was better to go down fighting rather than attempt to surrender since the IU had already shown a capacity for killing prisoners. The wounded we intended to transfer to the IU for treatment had been killed outright just after being taken into custody by the IU. It was barbaric to say the least, but it had the unintended consequence of putting steel in the spines of the defenders as we showed no remorse when dealing with the IU.

“What about supplies?” asked the NAU General.

“We’re doing the best we can, but we’re still coming up short. We’ve just about collected all we can from the dead and wounded. Some of the units on the line have taken to getting the IU weaponry from their dead. Seems like they have a lot more ammo to spare,” said the NAU General.

“Continue that practice and set up a resupply channel behind the lines,” said the AFNAS General. “We’ll use their own weapons against them if it comes down to it.”

“What about indirect fire?” asked the German General.

“We are limited on the mortar rounds we have. But the battlewagons are still on scene and providing support. The Veracruz took a torpedo and is barely keeping above water. They’re trying to move additional ships in, but with the storm, it isn’t looking good,” said the AFNAS General.

“And no air support,” said the Nicaraguan General.

“Very limited,” said the Texan. “And apparently they are going after the artillery and airfields instead of the attackers. They just can’t fly close air support in this weather.”

“If it gives us a bit of peace from the artillery, I’m all for it,” said the Australian Colonel.

“And armor?” asked the Texan.

“We have seven Scorpion tanks left,” said the Nicaraguan.

“We have two,” said the Australian.

“We have four,” said the German.

“None here,” said the Texan.

“And we have six,” said the AFNAS General. “Barely enough for a defense.”

“We should consolidate and withhold them until we are certain of the main IU attacks,” said the Texan. “Don’t let them get taken out piecemeal.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said the Australian. “We can have ours start heading that way.”

“We still have some man pack stuff, but the majority is coming from the IU right now,” said the Nicaraguan. “Plus the few remaining anti-tank vehicles, but they are low on ammunition.”

“Any chance of a resupply by air?” asked the Texan.

“Not in this storm,” said the AFNAS General. “Everything we’ve gotten so far has been blown out into the Channel.”

“We received a partial drop, but nothing near enough to resupply,” said the NAU General.

“Gentlemen, let’s start getting our forces in place to consolidate,” said the AFNAS General.

********************

Z Day Plus 42 Hours


“Sir, it appears the infidels are retreating away from the beaches!” announced an IU Major as he read the report from the front line.

“Which ones?” asked the Marshal. He had two divisions poised for an attack but needed to find a weak spot to drive to the beach and divide the FNC defenses.

“The one near Trouville. They also may be moving the one near Valognes,” said the Major.

“Possibly abandoning their positions and consolidating the lines,” remarked the Marshal.

“It would make sense sir, they have been hit very hard,” said the Major.

“However, our forces in those areas have yet to break through the defensive lines. The infidels in those sectors are being very stubborn, the Latin American devils especially so,” said the Marshal. “Do we have an opportunity to exploit the lines?”

“If they are moving troops away from the beaches, it would be easiest to hit the points where they originally linked up. However, the ground there isn’t easily maneuvered over,” said the Major. “The hedgerows are holding up our armored forces.”

“Artillery?” asked the Marshal.

“Sporadic at best and mainly for harassment. The rounds are being blown around haphazardly in the storm. On three occasions our rounds have fallen on our own troops,” said the Major.

“Hit them here,” said the Marshal as he pointed at the map. “Away from the beaches they are retreating from. They will expect us to hit the areas they are retreating from and we will not give in to their wishes.”

“Sir, that area has not been easy to attack either,” observed the Major.

“I understand, they are being very stubborn. They just are not taking the hint we are serious about killing them off. Plan for a two brigade attack here and have the remaining four ready to exploit the hole we rip into their lines,” said the Marshal.

“It will take several hours to reorient the forces,” said the Major.

“Keep up the harassment and limited attacks by the forces already on the lines. Pin them in place and keep the pressure on,” said the Marshal. “And have the Damascus Martyrs ready for deployment.”

“Yes sir,” said the Major as he went off to relay the orders.

********************

“Fire!” screamed Lieutenant Winfield as the attack finally started coming into our positions. We were lucky in the fact it was mainly infantry, but there were several tanks, infantry fighting vehicles and armored personnel carriers as well. What little anti-tank munitions we had were quickly sent downrange attempting to hit the vehicles. Lucky for us, the IU weaponry worked pretty well against their own forces. I fired my AKM at an advancing fire team, still in the mindset of trying to take out the leadership and heavy weapons first. Training was a hard thing to overcome and I wished for the hundredth time I still had my marksman rifle. But you used what you had and I managed to hit the fire team leader and possibly the squad leader.

Blain was firing as well, using controlled single shots to fire at the advancing infantry. He wasn’t as used to the AK system and was far slower on the reloads than I felt comfortable with, but he was picking it up pretty quickly. Learning under fire wasn’t the best time to be learning, but it was far better to learn under pressure than not to learn under pressure.

I completed another reload myself and found a machine gunner setting up his PKM preparing to fire. I started spraying the area with rounds attempting to get them under cover, but they managed to get off a few bursts as it was. However, the line of tracers were like a flashlight in the dark pointing right back to his position. Our DShK machine gun sent out its own line of death and landed the rounds right on target after a minor correction. The enemy machine gun was silenced and the crew dead. But still more infantry replaced those we had killed and more armored vehicles started appearing. Not enough to make a major difference, but enough to cause problems if they weren’t dealt with.

“Where do you need us?” asked Major Thomas Dayfield as he appeared behind the lines with the two Cider squads in tow.

“Plug the gaps in the line here and here!” shouted Lieutenant Young, the current Company Commander as he took a moment to point. “We’re taking a beating in that sector!”

“What about artillery support?” asked Lieutenant Rick Jones.

“What artillery support?” said Young. “We don’t have such an animal!”

“We’ll work on that for you,” said Dayfield. “Rowdy, get your team in place over there with Badaa, I’ll take mine and along with Fluffy over here. Badaa, work on the fire support!”

“Got it!” said Captain Dave Lawson as he grabbed the two teams and headed for the sector of assignment. Dayfield started heading over with Master Sergeant Tim “Fluffy” Daniels and his team towards the other sector where the lines were perilously thin. It appeared the IU was serious this time and each and every person capable of handling a weapon was being fed into the defensive lines.

And as they got into position, they attack seemed to increase as more IU troops appeared and started heading towards the lines. It looked like the lines might get breeched and the IU would overrun the positions this time. A desperate call went out to the Battalion command post for reinforcements and the request went all the way to the Division. Troops so recently brought off the line to catch a little rest were quickly sent back forward to try to keep the enemy at bay. But time was of the essence and the winds were not in their favor as they fought Mother Nature as well as the continued indirect fire trying to get forward in time to save their comrades.

[golfroot]

I wondered when the men and women from the ranch were going to show up. Looks like they showed up right on time.

Good stuff, Grand!:cool:

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 13


Z Day Plus 44 Hours


The attack picked up even more as the IU poured more forces into the line. Smoke was steadily rising off the barrel of my AKM and I even had a couple of rounds cook off while trying to find targets. Our own mortars started dropping rounds onto the enemy, a testament to the importance of the attack on our lines. The mortars were only being used for important attacks and we knew we must have had the brunt of the fighting. Private Blain continued to fire as well, screaming at the advancing infantry as he got into the psychology of the attack. It seemed they just might break through in our sector, but we were holding for the moment. Barely and by our fingernails, we were holding.

As the infantry continued to advance, I started seeing explosions, large explosions. Far larger than the grenades and light mortars we had been using. I wondered for a moment if the IU was accidentally shelling their own troops instead of hitting our lines. Not that I wanted any corrections on the fire since it seemed to be ripping the attack to shreds. The IU attack faltered and eventually broke up as the survivors either tried to take cover in place, which meant they were stationary for our own rifles or they attempted to retreat which meant they were vulnerable to the fragments spiraling out from the exploding shells. We managed to hold the lines for the moment and continued to fire at the enemy now stuck in the middle of the field to our front. The remaining forces started a full on retreat and eventually disappeared behind the hedgerows.

I didn’t know exactly what happened, but I figured someone up the line did. All I knew was someone had saved us with a timely intervention of high explosives and steel fragments.

********************

“Fire mission complete,” said the Fire Support Officer on the Texan battleship, the TSS [I]Juan Segu

[sabretech2001]

Thanks for the latest chapter, Grand!

[RunAndGun]

Awesome! Thank You!

[C-POP]

Wet tired hungry and in love ,that should win the battle all by itself !!
Great Chapter and Thank You !!!

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 14


Z Day Plus 60 hours


“Sir, the weather should clear in the next twelve hours. We are showing dissipating winds during that time and the rains are breaking up as well,” said the newly promoted Major. He looked exhausted, taking the General of the Army up on his orders and had not caught a wink of sleep during the time.

“How certain are you?” asked the General of the Army.

“Ninety percent sir,” said the Major. “The system moving in behind is pushing the remains of the storm out into the North Sea.”

“Best and worst case scenarios?” asked the General of the Army.

“Best case is eight hours, worst case is about eighteen to twenty, but I’m willing to bet my paycheck it’ll be in the next twelve,” said the Major.

“Conditions in the Channel?” asked the General of the Army.

“Increasingly better sir,” said a Warrant Officer brought along for his expertise in the sea conditions. “We should see the waves and surface chop die down in that time as well.”

“And we should, should mind you, be able to get follow on forces into the water for embarkation in the next twelve hours?” asked the General of the Army.

“You could load them now sir and we could push the forces out as soon as conditions are favorable,” said an Admiral.

“And the air assault troops?” asked the General of the Army.

“Same principle sir,” said a US Air Force General. “The crews have been braving the weather to make sure each and every aircraft asset is prepared for action.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I want the second wave ready for immediate departure as soon as the weather clears. That means when I give the word, they start engines and roll out of port. Those boys and girls on the beach have been through hell and we will not let them down,” said the General of the Army. “What kind of enemy forces are we facing right now?”

“Sir…” started a Colonel assigned to the intelligence branch. Her voice trailed off before she was prompted by the General with his hands. “Sir, there are indications of a serious attack against the beaches. There are at least four fresh infantry divisions being fed into the line and the remains of nine still conducting limited attacks. It appears the IU isn’t trying to break through, but merely harassing the forces on the line.”

“And the chances of them breaking through? They’ve held out pretty good so far,” said the General of the Army.

“Sir, two of the divisions facing our troops are the 177th Infantry Division and the Damascus Martyrs. Those are their premier light infantry divisions in the Western Theater and have been held back so far. We believe they were held back until our forces were exhausted and could be overrun easier. It’s more of a psychological victory for the IU if they do it that way. Those two divisions alone could force the issue,” said the Colonel.

“We’ve consolidated down to three beaches, they have to be in a better position!” exclaimed the General of the Army.

“They had to consolidate. There simply weren’t enough forces to cover the ground otherwise,” said another General.

“What about the support ships?” asked the General of the Army. “They’re going to need some serious support for an attack of that magnitude.”

“Sir, the Veracruz has expended her ordnance as well as the Crockett. The [I]Segu