Night Attack!

I hopped into a bunker with Procop, Pacman Jones and Commissar VanderNutz and got ready for the attack. We had modest cover- mostly just sandbags. But we could hear them out off in the distance- yelling at each other- it was the whole god damn third division of the Colorado National Guard, and they were about to swarm our positions. They started by probing our positions- they sent up a few scouts, launched a couple flares, and then there was a little small arms fire- just a cromulent distraction. This went on for about an hour or so- maybe longer.





Then around 2100 hours it got quiet- like real quiet- that's when we knew they were getting ready to make their push- one of the guardsman blew a whistle, and the soldiers poured at our positions- they were dressed in full body armor and firing hi-tech XM-8 assault rifles that even the U.S. military wasn't using- plus they a couple unmanned predator drones circling overhead directing their artillery, and dropping snake and nape on our pos. We fired up our remaining flares and the sky was lit up by tracer fire. Our perimeter was compromised almost immediately, but our concertina wire slowed them up real good and made them pretty good targets. I fired my BAR at the wire- burst after burst at those running dogs- just hoping to get some dumb sons of bitches that got swallowed up in it.





We held off their first wave, but then suddenly the bunker next to us went up like a roman candle- must have been a direct hit from a bazooka round- this freaked Pacman Jones out and the bastard ran out on us- I tried to shoot the deserter as he fled, but he dodged my pistol fire and left the battleground. I vowed to get him next time.





Our radio bunker went up next, and then two of the perimeter bunkers- slowly but surely the guardsmen were overcoming our defenses with their bloody bazooka and grenade attacks. Then they ambushed a platoon of Soviet paratroopers that were trying to relieve our position- our reinforcements- they cut the poor bastards to pieces- and that was all we had for relief.





Then, with everyone else out of the way, the guardsmen turned their attention to our bunker.
"Dude- Where'd all these fawkin guardsmen come from?" asked Commissar VanderNutz.

Beats the shit out of me. But the man in the green fatigues- a worthy adversary- was everywhere. Nevertheless, we fought on- hoping for our miracle. And that's what we got- the remaining troops rallied around our bunker and we shot the shit out of their initial assault and stopped them cold. The second wave ran right into our claymores, and sustained heavy casualties. Rather than attack again, they regrouped around the perimeter and began to retreat. It looked like they had had enough for one night. Our men crawled out of their bunkers- many badly wounded- and we started cheering and celebrating. Procop cut his thumb off in joy. It was a great time.


But then our .88 batteries opened up- someone back at battalion decided to saturate the whole perimeter in artillery rounds as a last-ditch effort to stop the guardsmens' advance- they didn't realize that we had already chased them off.

The rounds were hitting anything and everything around the perimeter - then the rounds started coming in even shorter, and some were landing in our interior fortifications- they even hit our supply wagon and elephant train. Appalled, I hopped out of the bunker and grabbed a field radio off of a dead comrade and put a call in to battalion.

"Ripper bravo six- Ripper bravo six- Check your fire! Check our fire! Enemy has retreated! You're lighting up friendlies! " I screamed.

But the message did not get through and the barrage continued for what must have been the longest 20 god damn minutes of my life- seemingly longer than the opening statement in any Sacramento misdemeanor criminal trial on record. So me, Procop, and Commissar VanderNutz buried ourselves in the bunker and hoped we didn't take a direct hit.

When the barrage was finally over, we emerged from the bunker to look at the wasteland around us- the sun was coming up- Eos rhododoctoros - and we were confronted with a landscape of scorched earth, twisted bodies, and obliterated buildings.

Battalion had sent some medics and a dog handler to look through the rubble for survivors.

One of the medics looked at me. "You all right sir? Y'konw, we're real sorry about all that artillery." he said.

"Yeah to you people it's just a game. Well it doesn't matter anyway- your apology is just too little, too late." I said, as I stormed off.

I was going to find out who at battalion gave the artillery order, and I was going to put a bullet in his head.