Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich

RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 63-7: Brawl (Part 7)

After the sparsely motorized convoy of a hundred souls is finally organized, Adam boards the lead armed Humvee in the driver seat. Following him is the Polanian medical practitioner Tomasz sitting in the co-driver seat for navigation duty. The 14.5 MG is mounted by a Belkan Private, while the two rear windows are garrisoned by Captain Surbella and General Rokossovsky. While it's ill-advised for the passengers of the Humvee to engage enemy troops less they receive return fire without the protection of bullet-resistant glasses, the situation has it that the windows are already heavily damaged by rifle-caliber projectiles. Thus, rather than trying to see things through spider-webbed glasses, Surbella and Rokossovsky break the glass altogether to use their weapons inside the vehicle. As the lead element of the convoy, the more firepower they can unleash, the better it is.

The Private mounting up on the HMG which is surrounded by a gunner protection kit, shouts to Adam after ensuring that checking that everyone is ready to move. "We're good to go LT!"

"Copy that!" Adam shouted back before speaking over the all-comms channel. "This is Alpha 1 to all elements! We're Oscar Mike! I repeat, we're Oscar Mike! All ground units maintain marching speed so that the civilians can keep up with the vehicles!"

"Roger that, Humvee 1, lead the way!"

The convoy starts moving at a slow pace. It's impossible to ferry more than a hundred people with just a few vehicles. Hence, all the young children are placed aboard the transport Humvees and other assorted vehicles, and then comes the injured and frail females and old people. However, there are ladies and old men who volunteer to hike the cruel path to free up space for those who can't. To provide extra security to the convoy, most of the Rusviets, Belkans, and slum defenders flank its side. To aid in this endeavor, those who can use support spells erect dirt barricades or magic shields around the convoy as they move. While it's straining on their reserves, any covers are welcomed if it means keeping the civilians safe. Already, the convoy is coming under fire from multiple angles. The slow marching speed of the convoy means that the enemy can outmaneuver easily.

Driving past an abandoned shopping avenue, Adam's vehicle is immediately beset with gunfire from multiple angles. Due to the fragile and mobile nature of the convoy, CAS is unable to render any impactful assistance without risking damage to the unprotected civilians of the convoy. This allows the Polanians to take advantage of and send what's left of their garrison to attack the convoy from all sides and elevations. The situation has changed dramatically since the beginning of this conflict. Now, it's the evacuating defenders that find themselves being fired upon from above while enemy elements are flanking their sides using alleyways and motorized units.

Tomasz, the sympathetic Polanian, tries and direct Adam where to turn next. "F-Follow this road! Take a left turn next!" He ducked down instinctively as a bullet hit and ricocheted off the doorframe next to him.

Adam who is driving, sees an enemy position on top of a roof. "3 o'clock high!" He called it out to the gunner that is already busy engaging with a different set of targets.

The HMG, fed from a 600-round belt that is linked to a munition box beneath the gunner station, spits out miniature fireballs from its muzzle brake. The 14.5x114mm cartridge completely ignores any environmental protection the Polanians are hiding behind. Each time a 14.5mm bullet hits, it either leaves behind a gaping hole in the wall or completely eviscerates 1/3 of a human body.

There are way too many targets of different kinds for the Private manning the gun to engage. Thankfully, the nature of the HMG-14.5 means that he just needs to aim in the general direction of the enemy and let the HEIAP rounds take care of the rest. If not hit outright, then the fragmentations and flame from the deflagration of the bullets can still kill or cripple the enemy. Firing in controlled bursts, the Private knocks out multiple groups of enemies hiding in the windows before turning to retaliate at the Polanians shooting at the convoy from the roof. The reports of the 14.5mm HMG drown out all others. The gun's flexible metal ammunition belt guide keeps feeding the beast with round after round as spent casings come rattling down on the roof of the Humvee. Right behind Adam's vehicle, a transport Humvee rides over the spent casings, following closely behind it are the civilian trucks and two columns of running civilians.

At this point, with bullets besetting them at all angles, civilian casualties are unavoidable. Yet, biting back their tears, these Slavs huddle together behind the protection provided by these brave soldiers, walking past the dead. Suddenly, an old man falls down, his left knee has been shot. The old man grits his teeth, struggling not to scream thus further demoralizing the group. The old Slav thinks that his time has finally come at last, staying behind so that he won't slow down the convoy. Yet, not willing to leave him to his death, a Polanian sympathizer, just a young loving girl of the community, rushes to pick him up. Together, the pair follow the convoy by hiding behind the rear transport Humvee, taking one painful step after another.

By the sides, Belkan and Rusviet soldiers move and engage the assaulting Polanian. Always standing in between the enemy and the running civies, these men and women brave danger with little to no protection against rifle-caliber bullets. Those that can deploy defensive spells for the others to hide behind, using their rifles and SMGs to take precise shots or to suppress a Polanian-infested alley. Grenades are liberally used by retreating units, mostly smokes but one can still feel the explosive blast of a fragmentation grenade going off inside a building. It takes skill to throw a deadly grenade through a window while moving. It takes even more ingenuity to cook the grenade before it is thrown. Yet, the relief a perfectly primed grenade can bring is a godsend to the convoy.

Nevertheless, losses are to be expected for these fighting men and women. A Rusviet takes a hit through his chest, falling down instantly, bleeding all over the muddy ground. His comrade gives a short shout of pain before picking up his weapon and ammo, leaving the man dying with his eyes closed. One of the Belkans soldiers also got hit, this time it was in the arm. Yet the woman doesn't scream, only shedding a silent tear of pain as she tourniquets her left arm while hiding behind one of the civilian trucks. Ultimately, she rejoins the battle by pulling out a pistol, her rifle is promptly given to a Belkan who has emptied his primary.

Right at the tail end of the convoy, the rearguard GMV Humvee is also taking enough heat that warrants more than just a new paint job upon its return. Bullets from enemy soldiers and technical trucks slam on its rear as the GMV's rear machinegunner keeps on squeezing the trigger of his pintle-mounted MG-35. Up above, the 40mm automatic grenade launcher swings about, casting relentless thumping sounds as the top gunner sends out a rain of high-explosive rounds. The explosions decimate an enemy truck equipped with a machine gun before battering the Polanians hiding in the alleyways and windows behind them.

So many bullets are fired, so many lives a lost or dying, and for what? Today's conflict hasn't been in jotted in the itinerary of these Belkans and Rusviets. Nevertheless, they fought on anyway because it was the right thing to do. Even if they end up dying and being marked as just another casualty, it will still be worth it if these civilians can get out of here alive.

Somebody among them has said that tyranny won't stand, that they will fail as human beings if they close their eyes. It may not be their responsibility, and their friends would still be alive if they had just walked away... However, what will become of the soldiers who ignore the plight of these poor souls? It's a hard question that none of the people here would want an answer to. What matters to them now is to save as many as possible and ensure the truth comes to light. Warsaw needs to pay for its crimes.

"Alpha, be advised, the way forward has an enemy roadblock! Do not make that right turn!" Long Caster said over the radio. "Keep going forward, we're working on an alternative path now!"

Tomasz interjects. "Keep driving to the old park! We can take a right turn into Wolności!"

"Long Caster, verify that route!" Adam shouted before a few bullets pelted off the armor plate of his Humvee. "We're taking heavy fire so make it fast!"

"Working on it! I need a visual stat!" Long Caster replied to Adam before shouting to his AWACS crew. "Knight Squadron is trying their best but you got more incoming danger close!"

Right when Long Caster finished saying that, one of the civilian trucks got hit by a Polanian Bofors 37mm anti-tank gun. The high-explosive shell fired by the AT gun detonated the rear compartment of the truck, killing most of the rear passengers but not enough to cripple the vehicle altogether because it has been a badly aimed shot. Nevertheless, the remaining passengers, a few women of varying ages, are battered, charred, and terrified. As body parts and debris rain down on the back half of the convoy, everybody can only bite their teeth before soldering through, walking past the upper torso of an emancipated man. As for the Polanian AT crew that ambushed them, the surviving Rusviets and Belkans immediately suppress them before letting the rear GMV chuck some 40mm grenades to silence the position for good.

Long Caster shouts over the radio wave. "I can see that explosion up here! SITREP!"

Adam screams back. "Convoy just took a big hit! Expecting multiple civilian casualties! Shit!"

The unfortunate series of events won't just stop there, however. A Polanian marksman finishes loading his rifle, only to round a corner in front of Adam's Humvee. The marksman pops out a shot, whether it's due to sheer skill or luck, the rifle bullet goes through the gap in the Gunner Protection Kit of the armed Humvee. The poor Private, busy knocking out an enemy truck that was driving parallel with the convoy on a different road, got hit in the neck, killing him nearly instantly. As the body of the Private falls back into the Humvee, Surbella, and Rokossovsky who are engaging the enemy through the side windows are shocked.

Rokossovsky screams. "Private Moegreen is hit!" The Rusviet General tries to stop the bleeding on the Private's neck. "Christ above, he's fucked up!"

Tomasz turns around with a frightened expression while Adam steals a painful glance behind him. Surbella looks at the downed Private with a stony face, yet there's a sense of grief emanating from the man. The commotion has been caught on the radio, Long Caster takes nearly no time at all to ask, deeply concerned.

"Is anyone hit!? Adam, talk to me!"

Adam takes a glance behind him while keeping a hand on the wheel, still driving the convoy forward. "Private Moegreen!'

"What's his status, over!?" The concerned query seemed to play on repeat for everyone in the lead Humvee.

Ultimately, it's Captain Surbella who concluded the Private's fate. "He's dead!"

The report is grimly repeated by Adam so that everyone on the net can hear. "He's dead. Moegreen is dead, Long Caster." The words brought a silence onto the battlenet. "Command, this is Alpha 1, we got a KIA, Anders Moegreen. Over."

Back in Berlin, a solemn mood has fallen over the ONI command bunker. While this is not the first casualty they have taken, it's nonetheless another permanent one that occurred right at the tail end of this conflict. Bryn can be seen frowning as she taps her index fingers on the frame of the holotable repeatedly, her sitting posture exuding a foreboding pressure. The chaotic situation and the relentless back-and-forth communication on the battlefield remind her of the battles a few years back. A time when the Reich hasn't been as equipped as it is now. Yet, as if laughing upon their modernization efforts, fate has thrust the common Belkan soldiers into a battle that they're ill-suited to fight even with all the gizmos and equipment they have available.

Long Caster replies in a low tone after Adam's terse report. "Roger that."

Adam, being fired upon heavily now that no one is manning the MG, shouts repeated. "Get on that fifty-seven!" He jutted his right thumb up top. "Someone get on that fifty-seven!"

Surbella throws his rifle and ammo to Rokossovsky, saying. "It's mine!" The man then climbs up on the roof, manning the fifty-seven caliber, 14.5mm HMG.

It takes an iron will to keep your voice level and confident in the heated battle, and it takes valor to take up the position that your fellow soldier has just died in moments earlier. Surbella is not deterred in the slightest at the sight of a bloody turret. He does not acknowledge the grimy feeling of a blood-covered charging handle as he racks it back. Nor does he display anger outwardly as he turns the HMG to unleash another hail of large-caliber bullets. The man is just up there, fighting the good fight, making sure to protect his comrades, his unit, and the hapless civilians behind him.

A group of enemies are thrown away by the sheer destructive force of the heavy machine gun. A truck loaded with Polanians is shot to shreds, metal and flesh alike. An enemy AT gun that is lying in an ambush got its ammo crate exploded by the 14.5mm bullets. Yet, casualties are mounting, and the road ahead never seems to end. It has only been minutes since they started retreating, but it has felt like hours for everyone involved. Not a single one of them is unscathed in this battle. All of them are tired, and battered, and are only fueled by the adrenaline pumping in their veins. The length is gruesome, and it shows.

Bryn, stands up, crossing her arms. "How far is Alpha 1 to the extraction zone."

Agent, who is nearby, answers dutifully. "Alpha is six blocks out, General. The train will arrive at Ursus Station around the same time as Alpha."

"Well, they need to haul ass." Bryn rarely said such crude words, but with how the situation had progressed so far, they were the only things that fit.