Losses
Commander Paul’s Chieftain fired another round from its 120mm main gun, the round flew true and penetrated the weak side armor of an advancing Panther, the Aryan tank only came to a halt when it plowed into the side of a demolished shop front. Smoke poured from the huge hole in the armor.
The 5th army had been bogged down on the outskirts of Baltimore; they had come under heavy fire from Tiger I tanks that had been dug into the muddy fields. Their powerful guns opened up just as the sun was going down.
Troop carriers flanked the left-hand side of the 5th Army and Aryan troops disembarked under heavy machine gun fire; they returned the favor with a high volume of plasma fire. Tracer rounds that crisscrossed the area were mixed with bright plasma rounds, it would have been a beautiful spectacle if it was not so deadly.
The Chieftain’s kept up their fire on the advancing Panther tanks; they were still accurate in the dark thanks to their night vision. The Panthers fired on the move and a superheated ball of light struck a Chieftain.
To the Panther’s surprise, the British main battle tank returned fire. The round struck the Panther straight through the turret ring and the tank stopped moving; the cupola flipped open and the Aryan soldiers jumped from the crippled tank.
The soldiers jumped on to the hull of another medium tank and immediately opened fire with their plasma rifles.
“Bastards!” Commander Paul said. He ordered the loader to load a high explosive round and then aimed up carefully. He could see the luminous rounds fly towards his tank as he peered through the night vision.
“Fire.”
The large caliber gun let out a deafening roar as the high explosive round left the barrel and a few seconds later it hit the tank dead on. Paul had to look away as the bright explosion interrupted the night vision.
In the eerie green glow, he could see Aryan troops leap from the tank covered in flames, the tank continued to advance and crushed two of its own men in the process.
The Chieftain next to Paul’s fired a standard round and put the flaming Panther out of its misery.
The British tanks were keeping the Aryan frontal assault at bay but the flanks were at risk of being overrun by Aryan infantry who were almost suicidal in their rapid advance into the suburban outskirts of Baltimore.
They Aryan forces took heavy losses from the .50 caliber Browning machine gun positions but they still they came forwards. Several machine gun nests were taken out by plasma grenades, the bright flashes played havoc for the soldiers lucky enough to have night vision.
Major Smith-Hampton of the 151st Para regiment was having difficulty making out targets in the moonless night. The clouds covered up most of the starlight. The Aryan soldiers had a clear advantage as they had thermal imaging cameras mounted to their helmets.
The Aryan’s plasma fire was too accurate and by now they had set up fields of fire for the heavy plasma machine guns. When a group of paratroopers leaped up to provide covering fire they were cut down; the smell of burning flesh permeated the night’s sky.
The Aryan’s sprinted quickly from building to building as they probed the flanks for weak points. They split into small fire teams that passed through the defensive line and took out as many troops as they could before they were finally overwhelmed and killed.
Bodies started to pile up in the otherwise deserted streets. The British knew they could not hold the line forever but they continued to fight. Major Smith-Hampton radioed for any available support.
A small group of Aryan troops had entered the church being held by twenty paratroopers, chaos ensued in the tight area as the British men resorted to hand to hand combat with their enemies. A twenty-two-year-old paratrooper jumped onto the back of the six foot plus Aryan and drove a knife into his armor.
The blade snapped as it bounced off the thick body armor, the Aryan drove his elbow straight into the paratroops ribs. The man howled in pain as his rib broke and he rolled off on to the floor.
Before he could regain his breath he was lifted clean of his feet as the Aryan grabbed him by the throat. The Paratrooper struggled until his windpipe was crushed.
His comrade who lay on his back on the floor raised his pistol and fired the whole clip into the Aryan’s leg; every single round bounced off. The Aryan soldier turned and stamped on the man’s head, crushing his skull.
Aryan troops rushed the stairs to the parapet where the two stubborn paras had a .50 covering the door. The paras kept firing and managed to take out three men before plasma grenades were thrown up into the parapet. The two young men lives were taken in the blinding blue flash.
A wall of the church suddenly collapsed, then another explosion brought down a section of the roof, showering the retreating Aryan’s in debris. Ten M60 main battle tanks rolled down the street firing into the church as they went until only rubble remained where the once stunning little building stood.
The M60’s 7.62mm guns chattered as they came to support the faltering line of infantry.
Midnight
Plasma rounds washed over the hastily dug trenches, the freshly dug earth was scorched a horrid black. The men of the 101st infantry division were under heavy fire, they jump to the floor to keep their heads down.
The air above the trench crackled from the immense heat. A series of large explosions came from somewhere close behind. Five M60 main battle tanks fired their main guns. The rounds smashed into a small bungalow, the heavy stream of plasma fire dulled a little.
A large purple flash fired off in the distance, it was followed by another and then another. The rounds of plasma impacted into the area around the trenches but the third round grazed the side of an M60; the tanks thick armor sizzled and melted over the track.
The heavy plasma rounds continued to rain in out of the darkness, they briefly illuminated the area as they homed in on their targets. The houses in the abandoned suburb burned furiously with a mixture of purple and red flames.
A Twenty-nine-year-old tank commander watched in horror through his night vision. He could see at least fifteen colossal tanks advancing across the open ground. Their cannons blinded him every time they fired.
The American, who was an Alaskan native had never seen a Maus tank in the flesh before and he found himself paralyzed by fear for a few seconds. His gunner fired on the target without his order. The armor piercing round bounced off the turret like it was a peashooter against an elephant.
Commander Paul was getting more and more calls for support, the 5th army was in danger of getting penned in and forced back into Baltimore itself. The British troops holding the left flank were in the gravest danger.
“This is Commander Paul; we need any available air support. Reference 15, danger close. We have heavy armor pinning us down.”
Paul knew they were in no position to assist the 4th army. “Commander Speering you are on your own tonight. We will try to get to you in the morning. Good luck.”
“Roger that. You too. Speering out.”
Fifteen terrifying minutes had elapsed before the first growl engines drifted lazily into the night’s sky. It steadily grew louder until a group of bombers roared overhead. The British Blackburn Buccaneer strike aircraft streaked in for the attack.
They tore towards their targets at over 600 mph and dropped their ordnance, the unguided bombs detonated over the area causing firestorms to cover the advancing Maus. Wave after wave of the carrier born bombers raced in.
The British cheered as they used the lull in the fire to mount a counter attack, they popped up over the top of the trenches and laid down a huge amount of covering fire. Aryan troops were caught out in the open and were cut to ribbons.