The Mighty First, Episode 2 Page 11
There was many a tear shed right then, some were borne of fear, most of over-whelming dignity. Jo, in particular, wished that her father could be there to see her, but realized that even if he
168
The Children’s War
were, all he would see was a formation of gear-laden armor standing out there. There was no differentiating one from another with their visors closed.
“Return to front,” Strasburg said.
They dropped the salute and turned back to the flight line, where the Blackhawks were ramping up. The crew chiefs motioned for them to approach.
“First Battalion, by companies, begin boarding,” the colonel ordered.
Captain Hannock, the new battalion commander, turned to look at Ford, who was a torso-length taller than him, and nodded. The sergeant major barked, “Alpha Company, we’re up!”
In two columns, they trotted to their transport and piled in. The other companies began following suit. It was not long before they were lifting into the air and beginning their flight west, escorted by Huey gunships.
In the quiet that followed, the townsfolk watched the formations grow smaller as the distance grew, until the aircraft were no longer visible. Feeling empty, the crowd began to
169
Mark Bordner
disperse, returning to the routines of everyday life. They would be glued to their televisions that evening as they ate their dinner, watching the daily newsfeeds with loyal fervor.
Xxxxx
The Ohio Battlefront
The transports landed in a field just west of Lake Milton, on the north side of Highway 76, and began unloading their troops. A forward garrison had been set up there, and the Marines were led to an unused patch of the open grass and told to wait. They sat or lay about, pulling their helmets off to chat with one another while their leaders got things organized.
Strasburg called his officers and senior staff for a meeting near the highway, where droves of military vehicles were parked on both shoulders as far as the eye could see in either direction. Supply trucks, Hummers, APC’s, tanks and artillery pieces on truck-trailers. It was a convoy to behold, sitting idle and vulnerable. Fast-movers patrolled the skies above, watching for
170
The Children’s War
enemy fighters that might attempt to strafe the juicy target. Huey gunships joined the aerial circuit at a lower altitude. Manny watched them and wondered which one was being flown by Rose. It resembled a slow-flying swarm of mechanical bees, all of which packed a lethal punch.
In the shade of the over-pass, the staff gathered on a blacktop below the highway. The GNN reporters held back at a respectful distance, not filming the meeting. They were not permitted journalistic license anywhere near a discussion of tactical importance, as the information could be beneficial to the enemy--- who watched the news just as much as the populace, hoping for just that sort of thing.
“The U.S. Army Hundred and First Airborne landed a division about twelve miles south of us, on Route Sixty-Two, just west of Salem,” Strasburg announced. “They will be handling the advance into Canton, backed by our Seventy-Seventh Regiment and the One-Oh-Eighth Armored Division. While they are fighting their way into Canton, our job is to break through this stall and take Akron.”
171
Mark Bordner
The distant, steady rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, coming from the west. It wasn’t a storm, though, it was the exchange of artillery flying back and forth. It had been such for over a week, with little gain for the Allies. The Storians were holding their ground at the city limits, knowing that the Marines were saddled with the collateral damage statutes.
“The Storians are trying to hold us back with a delaying action, hoping for reinforcements of their own to break through the Attayan lines that split the Illinois-Indiana state line,” the colonel explained. “We’re not going to allow them that luxury any longer. The game just got kicked up a notch. Have your troops load onto the trucks up here on the highway, as the convoy will be on the move again shortly. We’ll ride for another ten miles until we reach New Milford, where we’ll dismount and march the rest of the way in. Expect to encounter heavy resistance once we begin nearing Brimfield, which is the outer limit of Akron.”
“We’re going to go through the artillery line?” Captain Hannock inquired, sounding apprehensive.
172
The Children’s War
Strasburg grinned, “That artillery won’t be an issue much longer,” he stated with certainty. “President Reyes has given us the clearance to utilize fuel-air bombs. The citizens have managed to flee westward, further into the city, which will allow us to soften the eastern limit ahead of the infantry units. The Storians are about to get another taste of Marine Corps hospitality.”
“What’s the line-up, Sir?” Ford asked.
“I want First Battalion on-point, followed by Second, with Third in reserve,” Strasburg told him. “You’ll have elements from the Eighty-Third Armored supporting you, as well as ample air cover. We’re only interested in officers as prisoners, all others will not be allowed the luxury of surrender. The Brass wants to send the message to Grozet that he’s stirred a hornet’s nest. He wanted Judgment Day, he’s going to get it! Any other questions?”
There were none.
“All right, then, let’s hit it.”
Xxxxx
173
Mark Bordner
New Milford, Ohio
The convoy rumbled to a halt, and the Marines began hopping out. Captain Hannock, Sergeant Major Ford, and Mark formed A-Company on the highway shoulders, with one platoon covering each side. Behind them, Manny distributed Bravo in the same fashion, and in the rear, Minerva did likewise with C-Company. Those 240 troopers had four tanks forming up their rear flank. Half a mile behind them, 2nd Battalion began forming up in similar patterns. This push would be executed with nearly 500 Marine Infantry and a total of eight Abrams II model heavy battle tanks.
Civilians from the small township were walking up the center of the highway, carrying and dragging what belongings they could. They spoke thanks and encouragement to the troopers as they passed by, fleeing their homes in the face of the coming escalation in violence.
The artillery limit was only a few miles away, the western sky filled with brown and black haze, accented by high, thick
174
The Children’s War
columns of dark smoke where fires were burning unchecked. The plasma explosions rained steadily from south to north, accompanied by the shrill whistle that they made when coming in one’s direction. The Marines stood, watching this with dread. For the vets, it was a reminder of the previous action they had endured in Youngstown and Hubbard. For the new, younger replacements, it was a vision of hell awaiting them. The war was no longer something to watch on the news-vids, or to hear it spoken of as a tale among the older kids. Now, it was right there before them, as real as it could ever be.
The GNN crews panned around, doing their thing.
Captain Hannock raised his visor, as did Ford, and the two of them watched the dark wall of destruction constantly writhe with new impacts. The relief battalions from before had long since cleared out, leaving the artillery crews lined up about half a mile ahead pounding out rounds of their own that streaked across the sky and disappeared into the wall of smoke, exploding somewhere over there above the Storian positions.
The sound of jets approaching drew their attention, and
175
Mark Bordner
they turned to look. The fast-movers were coming in fast from the east, passing over-head, their jet-wash shaking the ground. Above the zenith of the artillery rounds, they raced toward the city limit, vanishing in the smoke barrier. An instant later, a row of nuclear-like mushroom clouds bloomed beyond the smoke, their shockwaves blowing it aside as the balls of flame grew and expanded, climbing skyward. Six, seven, and then eight of them erupted from the earth, the ground quaking even at the d
istance of another ten miles. The thunder was profound.
The enemy artillery came to an abrupt stop and did not resume. The 83rd artillery ceased their own activity, and silence fell over the countryside. It was a scene that did not seem to belong. The beauty of the surrounding trees and fields, the clusters of houses and businesses, all set against the backdrop of that conflagration.
Strasburg’s voice sounded over their pick-ups, “The way has been paved, Marines! Begin your advance!”
Ford lit a cigar and shoved it in his mouth, sighing, “He makes it sound so easy.”
176
The Children’s War
Xxxxx
On their approach to the city limits, the Infantry units were forced to pause in their advance when they came up on a slug-fest between a line of US Army tanks, and a trio of light-armored Storian tanks. The Army’s models were similar to those that the Corps utilized, with the side-mounted Gatling guns. Those side guns raked the distant streets, their plasma bolts shattering windows and throwing great clouds of debris from the sides of buildings. With timed frequency, main guns fired rounds at the lighter and more maneuverable tanks, the explosions spewing huge amounts of asphalt and dirt into the air. The din was horrific, even through the dampening protection of their helmets. The concussions could be felt through the armor, and lungs trembled while the Marines lay low.
The smaller Storian units lobbed plasma shells back at them with poor accuracy, and the scattered hits threatened more harm to the Marines than the tanks. After what seemed a short eternity, the Army commander tired of the skirmish, and ordered
177
Mark Bordner
his gunners to quit messing around. Marines exchanged looks of bewilderment. The entire fight had been nothing more than a show for the GNN and movie studio crews to film!
One by one, the heavy units took careful aim, and let loose with a main gun barrage that split the Storians with a fiery end. It took only moments to lay waste to the meager defensive line that the light units posed against the advancing Marines. The tank commander announced over the general frequency that the Infantry was then clear to move forward.
With a grumble of disgust, Sergeant Major Ford got to his feet, and signaled for his people to resume their attack. As the platoons picked up their cautious run, small arms fire began to snap out from the broken buildings ahead. Their formations scattered to present a less distinct target, and the fight was on. Behind them, rows of camera crews continued to record, some transmitting for the newsfeeds, others gathering shots that would later be used in cinema productions.
Xxxxx
178
The Children’s War
Akron, Ohio
The ground rocked under the blast of the RPG slamming into the side of the building, throwing brick and shards of glass in all directions. Rifle fire blazed back and forth down the street, punctuated by the hammering explosions of mortars whistling past and blowing great chunks of asphalt into the air. Smoke and dust obscured everything, restricting vision to less than a few hundred feet.
Dylan Briggs belly-crawled from behind a shot-up sub-urban that seemed to be drawing a lot of attention, and sought better cover from another vantage point, heading for a blast hole near the middle of the street. Rounds snapped and zinged frighteningly close, bouncing off of the road and peppering the side of the chopped-up vehicle. He rolled the rest of the way and plopped down into the hole just as a rifle grenade struck less than a few feet from his side, sand-blasting the back of his armor, ripping off his utility pack. He watched it fly away, his rations, entrenching tool, and extra canteens scattering everywhere.
179
Mark Bordner
Manny was crouched on the opposite side of the intersection, firing from around the corner of a narrow alley, his 60-watt throatily chattering rounds into the veil of smoke. Ecu had her own 60-watt trained on the third story of an apartment building across the way, sending a stream of tracers through the window where the Rocket Propelled Grenades were being launched from. The rest of their company was spread about in various squads along the approach, using whatever cover they could find while keeping the harassing fire in steady form.
The Storians were grudgingly giving ground a street at a time, but the process of beating them back was no easy task. It had been the same pattern all afternoon. B-Company was driving forward, hitting them straight-on, while Alpha and Charlie continued to flank from streets on either side. The enemy infantry was stubborn and fearless, and they had snipers posted in the damndest places, constantly making an already difficult job that much harder.
The Allied tanks were limited to firing their side guns in the area where the current fighting was raging, as there were so
180
The Children’s War
many residential homes located on the fringes of the business district.
Another RPG lanced out from a different window, blowing an abandoned police car to pieces scant feet from Ecu’s position. She was knocked sideways, and her machine gun tumbled from her grip. She scrambled for cover, diving into a storefront whose front window had been shattered. City police officers were fighting gallantly side by side with the marines, offering what support they could. One of them happened to be already crouching behind the same storefront window, and pulled a small revolver from his ankle holster, handing it to her. Ecu nodded thanks despite knowing that the .32 bullets would be useless except at close range. The Storian flak vests, though vulnerable against a plasma round, were still pretty effective at stopping anything less than a .50 caliber conventional bullet.
Dylan looked at Ecu’s 60-watt lying on the blacktop, it was no more than thirty feet from him, but it may as well have been a mile. The air was alive with exchanged rounds, buzzing above his head like angry bees.
181
Mark Bordner
To his great relief, one of the tanks from the 83rd Armored Division trundled from around the corner of the intersection behind him and began coming their way, Gatling’s roaring. The wall of dust ahead of them seemed to part under the fury of the barrage, and he could see things flying around under the buzz-saw effect. The Storians were pulling back again, too, those that weren’t mowed down.
As the tank drew near, Dylan clambered out of his hole in the middle of the street and ran at a crouch to join Manny and the squad that was working behind him. The tank made it to the intersection, passing directly over the hole where Dylan had been moments before, and yet another RPG streaked out, exploding harmlessly against its thick hull. Shrapnel flew out in a fan pattern and ticked against body armor. One of the troopers that had been on Ecu’s side of the street tried to move for a different spot, and a sniper sent a round straight through their neck. The kid jolted to one side and flopped to the ground, screaming and grasping the wound.
Another trooper sprinted out, firing with one arm while
182
The Children’s War
trying to drag the kid to safety, and a second high-powered round center-punched them. The Marine was thrown backward and lay spread-eagle, not moving while the first kid writhed and continued to scream. Blood was pouring through his gloved hands and spattering onto the blacktop around him. Two of the policemen attempted to rescue them both, and the sniper dropped them in quick succession with shots to the head. A GNN cameraman was crouched behind a nearby van, filming the battle. When he leaned a bit too far over for a close-up of the fallen, he met the same fate, his camera flipping end over end as the plasma round punched through the man’s face, knocking the equipment into the air.
Lance Corporal Brion used hand signals to direct her team into an effective angle and laid covering fire over the downed Marines. She tried to advance far enough to reach the one closest to her, but withering counter-fire chopped the street before her, driving the girl back. Jo pumped rifle grenades out at the windows of the building opposite of them, gallantly trying to gain some ground. Each attempt was thwarted, and all the while, more blood pooled beneath t
he wounded.
183
Mark Bordner
Manny watched this with desperation. He noted the tank’s identification number stenciled on the turret housing and keyed it on his frequency, “Tank Four-Five, this is Ground One, Bravo! Damn the collateral limit! Get that sniper! “
The tank commander responded by moving the turret to the appropriate side of the street and raising the barrel. The blast-wash was immense, the explosion that tore the side out of the third floor was twice that. Brick rained down everywhere, forcing the marines to duck against it.
Manny motioned for the medical corpsman to get out there. Ecu had already reached the first wounded trooper and removed his helmet, cradling his head in her lap while pressing against the wound in his neck over his own hands. Blood was simply jetting through their entwined fingers, pooling beneath them. The corpsman got to them and eased their grip open to see underneath, his visor was open, and Ecu could see him wince upon seeing it. The medic shook his head at her, eyes speaking volumes.
She spoke to the kid softly, telling him he would be alright. He had stopped jerking about and lay quite still, breath gurgling
184
The Children’s War
through the gore. His hand found hers again, and he gripped it, looking up at her. His young eyes were desperate. Pleading.
“I want my mom, “he whispered wetly, blood bubbling around his lips and running down the side of his face.
His eyes changed, as if seeing something beyond, and the boy’s face became peaceful. The irises dilated, and he became limp. Ecu held his hand a moment longer, tears running from her eyes, then laid it gently on his chest. She closed his visor and moved away, watching the medic as he checked on the other trooper who had been sniped in the chest. The outcome was evidently the same, as the corpsman just got up and left him there. Pairs of Marines trotted over to carry the bodies away while the medic made his rounds to evaluate other wounded scattered about the intersection.