Friday and several of the other marines looked up to see the enemy fighter fire on the XB and blast it out of the sky. Just seconds later, the sky erupted with anti-aircraft fire and punched gaping holes in the enemy fighter. It plummeted to the ground in a burning rage. Friday shook his head in sadness. He knew the German plane would have been gathering essential information.
“You can’t doubt their courage,” said Silva.
Friday nodded in agreement. The air war had become an unusual occurrence in the last week, as if both sides had simply lost too many craft or pilots to keep up the effort.
“I guess it’s down to us to slug it out now, like we always have,” mused the Sergeant.
“Let’s move out,” replied Friday.
It was a sad sight to see one of their planes brought down. The Captain could already feel his platoon had taken a knock to their morale, which was already low since being ordered on their mission. Up ahead, they could see the forest growing nearer; they hadn’t got that near in weeks. They’d watched the tree lines with a keen eye every day, wondering what lay beyond them.
Friday was suspicious as they approached, more so than should be expected. He knew the enemy positions lay some way ahead, but the utter tranquillity made him nervous.
“Keep alert,” he whispered.
The platoon’s pace slowed as they closed the distance until they reached the rim of the forest. Friday was astonished they’d made it without incident, and a fact which made him all the more suspicious.
“Fan out, we hold here for twenty minutes.”
“Sir, aren’t we supposed to be scouting these woods?” asked Silva.
“Walking around until we find trouble? Fuck that, I’m not getting any of these troops killed because some General has a gripe.”
Silva smiled. He knew Friday always had their best interests at heart. The Captain was like the little brother of Major Taylor. He had all the strength, courage and leadership of their former leader. They lay in wait for the twenty minutes, but it felt more like half the day. Finally, Friday stood up and stretched his aching knees, leaning over to Silva.
“Pass the word. We head north along the forest edge, three metre spacing.”
A minute later, the platoon arose and continued their trek onwards. Just five minutes after they had set off, a volley of light pulses flashed through the trees to their west. Friday had just enough time to shout before the impacts struck.
“Incoming!”
Friday and Silva hit the ground as the first pulses erupted. The three above them burst with an ear-splitting explosion, sending foliage smashing down over their bodies. Friday’s head was smashed into the mud by the weight of a falling branch. Only his helmet and the soft ground saved him from being crushed.
He shrugged off the branch and turned in the mud to see the status of the platoon, as fire continued to rain down on their heads. He could make out the body of one dead private already, and could only imagine the injuries he couldn’t see from his position. He could hear screams of pain and calls for the medic running down the line, but they were going unanswered.
The Captain got up onto one knee while huddling behind a thick three trunk to get a better view of their surroundings. He could see at least a dozen Mechs firing on their position and knew there would be more closely behind. He turned back to Silva and bellowed his orders.
“Fall back. Fighting withdrawal!”
Silva nodded and quickly relayed the command at twice the volume the Captain could manage. The two men got to their feet and quickly returned fire with their weapons. The ineffectiveness of their old battle rifles was a painful experience after living Reiter’s weaponry. Friday hit one of the Mechs with eight shots to the faceplate but did not penetrate. He ducked back behind cover, firing another burst into the same target zone and finally broke through, killing the creature immediately.
Now in a standing position, he could fully see the damage around them. There was only one dead marine but five wounded.
“Get those wounded out of here now!”
Several of the platoon rushed to the aid of their fallen comrades, hauling them onto their shoulders and beating a hasty retreat. Friday turned back around to train his rifle on another target but realised that a pulse was soaring towards him.
“Captain!” shouted Silva.
It was too late. The pulse smashed into Friday’s chest and blew a hole through his torso. Silva could only watch in despair as the officer’s body went limp and tumbled to the ground. He watched for only a second and turned to the platoon, repeating the Captain’s orders. He rushed forward to Friday’s body. He prayed the Captain had survived, but he already knew there was no hope.
Smoke rose from Friday’s webbing where it had been burnt by the pulse. He turned the Captain over to see the last light in his eyes fade before he could get out his last words.
“Fuck!” Silva shouted.
He got up, hauling Friday’s body onto his shoulder as if it was nothing at all. His hatred of the enemy would not allow him to leave the body of their Captain at the mercy of the enemy. He turned and rushed from the scene at a jogging pace. As he ran, he could see a number of the marines turning and giving covering fire.
“Forget it! Run! Run!”
Seeing the body of their officer across Silva’s shoulders, they didn’t need much encouragement to follow their Sergeant in fleeing outright. They had done little that day and were full of energy. The platoon scarpered across the rough terrain of no man’s land, knowing their lives depended on it. After half a kilometre, the Sergeant finally stopped and looked back. He’d noticed the enemy guns had stopped firing. Corporal Hall rushed up beside Silva and turned to investigate what he was glaring at.
“They’ve stopped?” he asked.
“They know it’s suicide to cross those lines, just as we knew it.”
“Then why the fuck are we out here?”
Silva shook his head in astonishment.
“Two fine marines were thrown away because of one man’s attitude problem. I’ll be damned if I’ll let there be another.”
Hall nodded in agreement.
“This shit has got to end. We have to get back into the fight for real, and we need our gear back. We need our Major back!”
Chapter 5
“What the hell is going on out there?” shouted Chandra.
The troops around her said nothing. They could all tell that the mission had gone sour. She stared out across the plain, looking with her binoculars for any sign of the platoon, but they had long ducked and weaved their way out of her sight. She spun around with a furious expression. Her heart was heavy, but she could only imagine at the losses.
“Major!” shouted Blinker.
The Private came frantically rushing across the tops of the trenches to reach Chandra.
“What is it, Private?”
“Ma’am, you’d better come with me.”
She stepped forward and grabbed the soldier back by the collar of his shirt, hauling him in close.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on!”
Blinker gasped to find his words but could not answer. Monty arrived a few metres behind his brother, and Chandra turned her gaze to the soldier. She could see the same blank expression on the man’s face. She released her grasp and looked at their bleak pale faces.
“Please, Major, come with us,” whispered Blinker.
She knew it was not the time to press the two brothers. Chandra nodded in agreement.
“Alright, lead on.”
The Major knew that whatever she was about to witness was not good news, but she tried not to jump to any conclusions. Ten minutes later they reached a troop staging area just a hundred metres from the front line trenches. She recognised a few of Friday’s platoon, but the Captain was nowhere to be seen. The two brothers led her on through a mix of allied troops into an opening where a doctor was overseeing a wounded marine being taken off on a stretcher.