Friday nodded, but Lieutenant Suarez tried to probe further. Taylor lifted his tired head and put the officer in his place.
“You’ve done your time today. Major, get some rest,” said Friday.
Taylor nodded in agreement and gratitude to the Captain.
“Have you handed out the new weapons yet?”
“No, Sir, they still remain top secret.”
“Alright, I want the company formed up at 0700 hours on the square. Have the hardware ready for an introduction and issue.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Taylor stood up and strolled out of the room. He thought he would go right back on duty and to work, he had never appreciated quite how tiring it was to sit at a desk with the responsibility of the top commanders.
The Major barely remembered walking back to his quarters or even opening the door. Entering his apartment he sat down on the sofa to relax for just a moment. Within seconds he dropped into a deep sleep, still wearing his uniform and gun.
Hours later, Mitch’s watch alarm rang violently, snapping him out of a deep sleep. For a moment he was disorientated, not even remembering having got to the sofa or falling asleep. He reached over to his watch and clicked the alarm off. It was set for 0600 hours every morning, unless he’d turned it off the night before.
Cupping his hands around his face he stretched the skin below his eyes downwards with his fingers, trying to wake himself up. His face was rough with stubble from the lack of shaving in two days. Running a hand over his shaven head he suddenly remembered the events of the previous day. He felt like crap, like he would after a solid day of heavy drinking. In an hour he would greet his company with new equipment and likely lead them into combat soon after. He knew that he had to clean himself up, even if it was the last thing he felt like doing.
He took off his gun and stripped his clothing off, throwing it down the laundry chute. Mitch stood in his shower, dazed as the water beat down on him. He could feel his state subsiding as the fresh water cleansed his skin and finally made him wake up. He stepped out of the shower, being hit once again by the morning heat.
Air conditioning was a luxury that nobody on base was afforded. General White felt that every man should be conditioned to the heat to enable them to operate effectively in such conditions. He moved up to his mirror wiping off the condensation. Taking his electric shaver, he removed all the stubble and hair within seconds. He went over to his wardrobe and pulled out a freshly cleaned and pressed set of combats, quickly putting them on.
For a moment he felt like a new man. Having gotten almost ten hours sleep and now finally awake, he had shaken off the fatigue of the previous days. Finally he felt ready to go forward with confidence and pride. He strapped on his pistol and strode out the door. Despite not being told when they would deploy, he knew it would be that day. The Generals had been given enough time to prepare and General White was raring to go.
Taylor was rested, smart and more determined than ever. He strolled confidently to the drill square, where earlier he’d ordered his men to form up. He smiled as the square came into sight. Friday knew the Major well and had formed up the company fifteen minutes early. He called them to attention as Taylor approached.
“Stand easy!” Taylor shouted.
He paced up and down the lines inspecting the troops. He passed Sergeant Parker who gave him a playful grin that went unnoticed to all but him. It brought a warmth to his heart as he remembered who he was dealing with. D Company were not just the troops he commanded, but his family, his friends, everything he loved.
“We will shortly be receiving our marching orders! Most of you have first hand experience of the enemy, and I am sure you have brought the others up to speed. The enemy is strong. They are powerful, intimidating and alien. Don’t be fooled! They can be killed, they will be killed!”
“Oorah!” they cried.
“The most obvious deficiency in our last engagement was found in the lack of effectiveness of our weapons against the thick armour of the Mechs. It’s time for that to be resolved!”
The Major stepped up to three crates which Captain Friday had laid out ready for him in front of the troops. He lifted off the lids of each and pulled out the first weapon, holding it up for them all to see.
“This is the M97 automatic grenade launcher. You will have all seen it in the manuals. They have long been out of service due to the disarmament programmes around the world. They have already been tested against our enemy and have proven to be extremely successful. The armour piercing ammunition is effective up to around fifty metres, maybe a little more.”
The Major could see that several of the troops were looking uneasy at the range element. All of their primary armaments were effective up to a minimum of five hundred metres.
“It’s close range work for sure, but you’ll appreciate them in the field, trust me. We have about enough for one in four men. High explosive ammunition may be effective at longer ranges but we simply have no proof of that yet. You will be supplied both for now.”
He put the launcher back down into the box it had come from, reaching for the next.
“Ortiz and Campbell, next weapon is for you!”
Pulling out a hulking sniper rifle, he held it aloft with both hands. If stood against a man it would be the same height as the tallest of any marine stood on the parade ground. A monstrous magazine fed the weapon from behind the trigger in a Bullpup configuration.
“These anti-materiel rifles were built to punch through armour at a fair distance. They won’t touch the heavy tanks we now use and therefore likely not the enemy’s either. However, the armour penetration is equal to the M97s, up to four hundred metres at least. We have five of these, so I want you to select three others with high marksmanship ratings to join you.”
The company snipers looked at the vast weapons in astonishment, being over twice the size of what they had been accustomed to.
“Lastly, the ARMALs have proven to be useful on the battlefield but they don’t pack enough punch. You will still carry them, as much is in short supply. However, we have got twenty of these Aardvark devices. They are really just a bigger, meaner version of the ARMAL and will be distributed one per section. Any questions?”
“Sir, are the rest of the Corps receiving this hardware?” shouted Sergeant Silva.
“Yes, Sergeant, but not in this number. We have been given priority due to our previous experience and the nature of our unit. General White has been releasing all stores to personnel and has already put urgent operational order requests in for fresh production.”
Taylor could see the uncertainty on their faces. Most of them had seen what a struggle it was against small numbers of the creatures, open combat was a frightful thought.
“The reality is we do not have the equipment or technology we could do with to fight this war, but that has not stopped great nations from gaining victories throughout history. We are the best there is and we will give it our best shot. Any man or woman who doesn’t wish to fight should never have joined the Marine Corps. A great General once said, ‘Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle’. He also said ‘A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week’.
Taylor paced up and down the line, desperately trying to think of words to reassure his troops though he already knew he could rely on them.
“Fact remains, we will likely never have the best weapons in this war. Nor the best tanks, the best planes, the best anything. What we have is the raw determination to survive and give them hell. We will prevail, we will because the fate of our entire race depends on us!”
The Major felt the datapad device in his pocket vibrate, the sign of an urgent message from command. He pulled it out as the marines before him anxiously waited to hear what news he was receiving. Taylor looked back up with an expression of relief. All realised that the time for waiting was over.