My squad took over a section of the jagged trench line about 200 meters long from the two survivors of the original defending unit. I positioned the Squad Auto Weapon in the center of our line and the rocket launcher in reserve, ready to deploy as needed. Then we watched and waited.
There had been heavy action here, and looking around you could see where the area had been shelled pretty heavily. The trench itself was partly collapsed in several spots, where hasty repairs had been made, but no materials for bracing were available. You could dig like a backhoe in armor, but you still couldn't stop dirt from caving in, especially when it is getting pounded by artillery.
All of our dead and wounded seemed to have been evac'd, but looking out across the plain in front of the position at amp factor three I could see at least 20 enemy bodies, or parts of bodies, scattered around.
It seems to me that the smart call would have been to cancel the mission and begin the withdrawal. I realize that I’m looking back with perfect hindsight now, and it’s a dead certainty that no one in the high command asked for my opinion. But we’d already lost almost 30% of the ground forces and two-thirds of the atmospheric fighters, and all we had to show for it was a sixteen kilometer radius foothold.
But like I said, the high command didn’t consult me…or anyone else on the ground, I’d wager. So we spent two days manning a trenchline on the outskirts of the LZ while our sadly depleted flotilla of landing craft brought down the rest of the invasion force. During this period things were very quiet. The enemy, just as badly battered as we were and having failed to stop the landings, used the time to regroup their own scattered and exhausted units. We'd exchanged only sporadic fire and had no new casualties.
I was probably one of the only unit commanders to have more troops than he started with, though of course I didn't start as a unit commander at all. Our company still hadn't suffered too badly at this point, but the losses we had taken had fallen disproportionately on the non-coms, so Captain Fletcher reorganized the company. I'm pretty sure she wanted a veteran non-com running every squad, and there were some that would have been under a senior private if she didn't move things around. I ended up with 3 four man fire teams instead of two with five men each, so there were thirteen of us including me.
I did my best to make sure my three teams had someone experienced in charge, but I only had one other corporal, so two of them ended up with senior privates in command. Team two was under Harris, who was up for a bump to corporal anyway, so I stuck close to team three since it was under the most junior leader.
Our section of trench overlooked the ruins of a small city, really an industrial complex with an attached residential area. It had been bombarded from space, and we'd hit it a number of times with land-based ordnance too, so the place was in pretty rough shape. Of course Fleet could have flattened it completely, but we actually wanted to take it, not destroy it, so the barrage had been limited.
I knew the complex was going to be our objective, and I didn't like what I saw. We were about three kilometers out, and the approach was mostly flat and open. Our position was slightly uphill from the town, but there were no intervening ridges or cover. The ground, which was originally covered with scrubby grass that looked like some type of Earth transplant, was churned up and pockmarked from the shelling.
"Display unit status reports." My non-com armor had enhanced AI with voice-activated control - a nice improvement over the buttons and levers in a private's suit.
"Displaying requested data now." The AI's voice was calm and somewhat mechanical sounding. It had some type of minor accent I couldn't quite place. No doubt some task force spent a long time figuring the ideal combination of cost-effectiveness and psychology. Or something like that.
The default projection area was just above eye level, so the data didn't obscure the ability to see through the visor. But rolling my eyes upward always gave me a headache, so I'd reconfigured the system to project information below, so I could look down rather than up.
I scanned the blue holographic symbols as my AI cycled through reports of each member of my expanded squad. Everybody looked good. Two had minor damage to their armor, but nothing serious and, just as relevant, there was nothing we could do anything about anyway. One trooper was running a slight fever, but if it got any worse his suit would automatically medicate. All weapons checked out and were loaded and fully functional.
I knew things would get started soon when other units began moving up and taking position around us. It looked like the whole battalion, or what was left of it, was forming up. My AI gave me very limited information outside of my own unit, but the best I could figure there were about 300 troops supported by 6 light tanks to attack along a ten kilometer front.
Just before dark on our second day manning the trenchline I got my answers when Captain Junius, who was running the whole battalion at this point, came through the comlink. "Squad leaders, prepare to assault the objective."
He paused for a minute - probably interrupted by his own message from higher up - and then continued. "We're going to hit the place with a fast, hard bombardment, and then we advance. I want the lead units - Cain, Warren, Stanton, that's your squads - to move fast. Use the torn up ground for cover, but get your asses up there ASAP! You'll have supporting units right behind you, so if you get bogged down you'll stall the attack, and we'll get bunched up."
He went on for about ten minutes, giving instructions to each squad leader and reminding us at least five times that speed was the key to taking the objective. After he was done, I spent a few minutes staring out at the terrain for the thousandth time, punching up my visor to amp 10 to compensate for the failing light, and then gave orders to my team leaders.
About an hour later the barrage began. We were too close to the enemy for orbital bombardment, but we had several ground-based artillery batteries as well as the company mortar teams, and they all unloaded at once.
The night sky was instantly illuminated as rounds impacted all along the front edge of the objective. We knew the enemy was there in some force, and it was a good bet they had some ordnance of their own, but they didn't return any fire.
After about five minutes of conventional fire the batteries switched over to incendiary and smoke, and as soon as they did we got the order to advance.
The field ahead of us was a maelstrom of fire and dense clouds of smoke. The night and smoke obscured visibility, while the incendiary rounds interfered with heat and infrared guided fire.
"Let's go!" I snapped out the command, surprised at how cool and calm I sounded, and jumped over the edge of the trench. "All teams advance 500 meters and grab some cover. Remember, zigzag approach - no straight lines! And move it, but keep low."
After I finished issuing commands, I focused on getting myself up 500 meters. I ran an irregular pattern, trying to move as quickly as possible while staying crouched. The ground was a little more rugged than it looked, but it was no big deal in armor, and it took us less than two minutes to reach the first position.
There was heavy fire, but it was random and not aimed. The bombardment was doing its job, at least for the moment. Still, a quick glance at the unit status display showed I had two troopers down. The data showed both as flatline, though that didn't mean they were necessarily dead. Maybe their armor was just damaged and not transmitting life scans. Maybe.
As I moved forward I spotted a good-sized crater and headed for it, diving in as an enemy mortar round exploded way too close for comfort. The crater was about ten feet deep, and the high water table meant it was half full of watery muck.