Mar. 2, 2009
Military Quotes
When a soldier goes to heaven, to St. Peter he will tell,
"Reportin' in for duty sir, I've served my time in hell"
"I came here a boy, trained to be a machine, now look at me I'm a US Marine"
United States Marines, the few, the proud, the ones who get off the bus.
I'm a mean Marine with my new M16, ready to fight, and to do what's right.
"Okay, they're to the right of us, they're to the left of us, they're behind us, they're in front of us. There's no way they're gettin' away this time"
Col. 'Chesty' Puller. USMC
"The object is not to die for your country, but to make the other poor sap die for his!"
Gen. George S. Patton
In the beginning the Lord created the heavens and the earth. He made the land and the water, the sky and the clouds.
Then out from under a rock came a little four legged creature, and the Lord named these creatures "Soldiers"
Suddenly out of the sky fell a winged mutant thing, and the Lord named these "Airmen".
Then a slimy living substance washed up on the beach, and the Lord named these "Sea Men"
on the seventh day the Lord looked down on his work, and saw that the three species were warring and fighting each other, they had no desire for peace.
The Lord was not pleased with them.
And the Lord said, "These creatures have no desire for peace, no hope of harmony, and have only the need to destroy one another. I need another type of creature to govern these beasts, and enforce the laws."
And the Lord said, "Let there be Marine Corps Drill Instructors"
Then with a loud deathly scream, the gates of hell were opened.
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Feb. 9, 2009
Bullets and Sand
June 6, 1944
Omaha beach
Dog Green Sector
Cold. Wet and cold. That was the only thing that could describe Purrez right now. His clothes were soaked, his head ached, and his stomach felt like a time bomb.
Icy cold salt water sprayed him in the face, stinging his eyes like acid.
The constant bucking of the LVT 2 Higgins landing craft as it hit the waves was enough to make him want to jump overboard.
The other 50 men around him were no better than he. Each and every one of them was as sick and nerve racked as a human could be.
Purrez looked out to the rough and choppy sea on which his boat was cruising.
The thousands of other landing craft around him loaded with troops were headed the same direction as he.
Omaha beach.
The one place that they hated so much, and were trying so hard to get to.
If they could just take this beach, they could open up a door into France. Purrez and the other two million men were the ones sent to open that door.
Purrez's only friend stood next to him, clutching the little golden star of David on his necklace. Purrez had never seen Hunley so religous before, at least not in combat. Purrez had always razzed him about it, but now he saw how much it meant to him.
17, Jewish, and never seen combat.
Other than the religous part, Purrez wasn't much different.
17, lost, and never seen combat.
Purrez was in the back of the boat, therefore he got to watch all the rest of the guys barf up their guts from all the sea sickness. It was enough to make him join them, but since he thought this was bad, he wasn't ready for what was next.
These boats were apart of the second wave of troops, therefore the first wave had the job to secure the beach.
"Alright boys!" said the boat driver, "30 seconds till landing!"
The platoon leader at the front started shouting off orders,
"Dog right! Dog right! Get off the ramp and clear those murder holes! keep the sand out of your weapons, and keep those actions clear! And I'll see you on the beach!"
At that Major Holm looked back out through the port slot on the raised ramp.
All the men in the boat crouched down, to get ready for the ramp drop.
Purrez could hear the sound of automattic gunfire in the distance and the loud booms of shells exploding on the beach.
Everyone waited, anricipating what would soon happen.
Purrez clutched his M1 carbine tightly, ready to use it.
He looked at Hunley. Purrez didn't need the consant shaking to tell him the kid was nerve racked.
But so was Purrez. His heart felt like it would burst from his chest, his teeth chatterd faster than the MG42s that rattled away at their targets, his legs felt weak and flimsy, and his helmet felt like it weighed 100 pounds on his head.
He felt the boat slow down.
A whistle sounded from the driver, telling the ramp operator to drop the ramp.
He spun the wheel on the wall of the boat, releasing the chain attached to the ramp.
The giant steel door on hinges fell forward, splashing into the salt water.
For a moment Purrez thought the first three men in the front had stumbled and fell.
But he realized they had fallen from the bullets that came at them like rain, cutting into every being in the front.
Quickly each and every one of the men in the front were torn apart by the MG42s in the huge bunkers that lined the giant 'sea wall' at the back of the beach.
Purrez watched in horror as blood flew from every man, coating the boat in red. within seconds nearly every man was lying in his or someone else's blood. No one was left intact.
Purrez had frozen, standing in the mess of mutilated bodies.
He didn't hear the voices of the other few men who managed to hop over the side. the bullets were still coming, tearing into more of the men as they attempted to escape the slaughter.
A hand suddenly took hold of his collar, and lifted him up off the deck and over the side of the boat. He quickly came into contact with the salt water. It rushed into his mouth, and down his throat causing him to gag. The hand still hung onto him, pulling him through the water.
It was only about eight feet deep, but it was enough to make a person drown.
Bodies of dead comrades floated on the top, while others lingered below, lifeless and limp. Many men were trying to get their gear off of themselves, but the weight of it all made them slowly sink to their deaths. The gear that was designed to save their lives on the battlefield had simply killed them.
Weapons fell from the surface and landed at the bottom, joining the gear and bodies.
Blood lingered around as though it were already there. Nearly every part of the water was dyed red.
The hand brought Purrez back up and he broke surface.
He tried to get some breath, but whoever was holding him tripped over a body and fell.
The water was shallower now, only four and a half feet, so he was suddenly pulled up again when the man regained his footing.
With each step, he could feel the bullets rush passed him and into the water.
It took what seemed like an eternity to get to the shore. Purrez and the man holding him made it to much more shallow water, where all the obstacles were located. The water was litterd with them, steel barriers that prevented the Landing crafts from getting any closer to the shore, therefore having to drop their men off in the water.
Purrez emerged for the last time, and doubled over, barfing up all the sand and salt water that clogged his throat, making his mouth bitter and gritty.
He sat on his knees behind a long log propped up on two other logs to form an obstacle, like the other logs that lined the shore line.
The man that was with him sat in front of him, crouching behind the wood. Purrez looked around. Hundreds of other men were littered about the shore, hiding behind what they could. Bodies washed up with the blood red water.
And the noise. Purrez's ears were already ringing and half deaf. The MG42s' rattles were far away but just as loud as ever. The ear splitting explosions of shells on the beach caused him to constantly duck, afraid fragments would hit him. The main thing that trerrified him were the screams and death cries of the wounded and dying on the beach.
Purrez could see in the distance as men were simply shot to shreds. A shell landed right where three men were running, throwing sand and what was left of their dismemberd bodies high into the air.
He watched in horror as one man jumped up from behind a barrier and was suddenly sawed in two by an MG42. He collapsed in two pieces on the sand in his mess of guts and blood.
Purrez stared at all the horrid sights, not daring to breath.
A hand suddenly smacked him on the helmet, bringing him back to focus.
The man with him had turned around, and now Purrez recognized him as Major Holm.
"Better pay attention boy!" He shouted, "It'l save your life!"
Purrez nodded and scooted up closer to the log.
several other men suddenly came up behind them and knelt down.
"It's a mirracle you made 40 feet!" Holm shouted, looking at the men, "Those Jerry bucket heads tearin' into us like paper!"
"You're dang right sir!" one them shouted back, "What do we do now!"
"We move up the beach!
"But we're takin' too much fire! We ain't gonna make it!"
"We sure won't if we just stand here!"
"Sir!" another one yelled, "where's the checkpoint!"
"anywhere but here!" Holm shouted back.
At that the rest of the men jumped up and started running to find more cover. Once they jumped up, two were knocked off their feet by enemy fire.
Major Holm smacked Purrez again.
"Get up and go!" he yelled.
It was just now that Purrez realized he'd lost his carbine.
He got to his feet, ready to run. He could see the rest of the platoon the not to far away, hiding behind some barriers.
A shell suddenly exploded between him and the platoon, just far enough away from him that he wasn't hurt.
He ducked behind the log once more, and then peered back around. Once all the sand landed, he broke and ran for his comrades, passing up a victim who lost his leg.
Purrez ran with Holm right behind. Sand suddenly started kicking up around them, one of the gunners had seen them.
Several shots nearly struck Purrez as he dove for the barrier behind which his platoon sat.
He crawled up to them, the wet sand getting inside his shirt.
He suddenly realized that the sand was not only wet with water, but blood, and a lot of it.
He glanced at the shredded carcasses and bodies around him, and puked.
One of the men reached out and pulled him closer.
"Boy, God must really like you Purrez!" He shouted.
"For now!" Purrez yelled back.
he peered around the side of the barrier, trying get a look the bunker.
He was rewarded with several bullets that pinged off of the metal, throwing sparks everywhere.
He quickly ducked back.
One round topped his helmet, nearly taking it off.
"We have to keep moving!" Holm shouted.
"Then let's go!" One of the others shouted back.
At that he hopped up, and was thrown off his feet by several shots, causing his blood to spray all over Purrez.
He hit the sand, unmoving.
Purrez sat back, astonished and sickened by what he saw.
One of the man's buddies was thrown over the edge of anger, and rose to fire at the bunker.
"you ugly-!" but he was cut off when Holm grabbed his belt and pulled him down.
"We work as a team!" Holm shouted.
Four other men were left with them.
Purrez decided he wouldn't just sit and wait for a shell to land and blow him in all directions, and jumped from his position, holding on to his helmet.
The sand was now dry of water, but wet with blood.
He jumped and ran over dead bodies, ignoring the limbs and shredded flesh that littered his path.
He passed up several barriers with men hiding behind them.
He tripped and fell, landing in a mess of something that reminded him of red jelly. Whatever it was, he didn't want to find out.
"Help.......me"
Purrez looked to his right.
A soldier lay on the sand, clutching his throat that was nearly torn open.
"Please" he said again.
Purrez grimaced, and stared crawling towards a shell crater nearby.
Purrez could never have imagined it would be this way. he haden't thought this much death would take place. This wasn't a battle, it was mass slaughter.
No guts no glory.
Purrez and any of the other men that were still living were definetly lucky.
The noise haden't died down in the least bit. The gunfire from the bunkers and trenches were still raging, and the loud explosions of shells echoed all over the beach.
Medics leaned over their wounded comrades, trying to shield them from the bullets while trying to save a life.
Chaplains knelt beside other wounded men, speaking what ever encouragement they could.
The dead bodies had multiplied like locusts, littering the beach. With all the firepower the Germans were using, none of the bodies were left intact.
MG42s were taking off arms and legs. Shells were causing other bodies to fly apart like broken toys.
What a hellish place. Purrez intended to get off of it as soon as possible.
He rose above the edge of the crater, trying to see again. This time he wasn't in anyone's sights, making things much easier.
He had at least 300 feet to go until he reached the 'shingle' as it was called. It was really a large six foot dune that ran the length of the back of the beach, at least 200 feet from the sea wall.
Purrez decided he wasn't in the mood for waiting anymore. If he could just get the timing right, he could make it.
He watched the bunker ahead of him, looking to the gunners inside.
He saw the one on the right was occupied with shooting off in another direction, while the one on the left was reloading. This was the perfect time to go.
He stood, and ran out of the hole, slipping in the sand as he went.
He didn't bother with looking to the gunners anymore, he just stared streight ahead and ran for he was worth.
The shingle slowly grew closer, the barriers and men left rushing past.
His clothes were wet and covered in sand, making him feel like he was wearing armor instead of BDUs.
The heavy shovel on his back felt like a brick, causing him to slow.
Nearly everywhere he stepped was taken by either gear, dead bodies, or remnants of limbs and guts.
The sand the kicked up to his sides told him someone had him on target.
One quick glance and he saw that the left gunner was on him, rattling away.
He could hear the bullets zipping by like angry hornets, ready to tear into flesh.
He felt a jerk on his helmet, and a loud ping as a bullet passed through the front side and out the other, just centimeters from his skin.
He ran faster, his heart doing double the speed.
More shots had struck him now, three topping his helmet again, one giving him a small flesh wound on his left shin.
He groaned in pain, and kept running.
Two guns were on him now, and he knew he was finished.
But something falling from the sky saved his life.
he was ready to feel the bullets tear into his body, when his ears suddenly popped like a fire cracker. Dirt and sand rushed passed him, and an invisible force lifted him off the ground till he was 15 feet high.
He felt the air flow passed him as he continued on his decent toward the sand.
It was like hitting concrete. His head was sent spinning and his eyes went blurry as he came into contact with the beach.
He lay for a moment, dazed.
A hand took hold of his collar and pulled him.
He rolled over and saw he lying on the sand dune he was trying to get to. A young private sat next to him, clutching his collar.
"I done saved yer life!" he said in a southern accent.
It seemed was getting save a lot lately.
Wait a minute, that shell should have ripped into his back.
The private pulled the shovel from Purrez's back.
A large impact dent was right in the center of the spade.
"Looks like God did too!" he said, holding it up.
Purrez laid back, gasping for air.
Someone to his right grabbed him the collar, again.
"Purrez you little fart! You made it!"
Purrez found himself looking into the face of his friend Isaac Hunley.
"You..............You made it too!?" Purrez laughed, taking Hunley by the helmet.
"Boy you should have seen yourelf!" Hunley shouted with delight, "One minute you're running and the next you're flying like bird! If it weren't for that shell they would have carved a lucky charm out of you!"
"Yeah" Purrez replied, still breathing heavily.
Hunley let go of him and sat back.
"Where's your carbine!?" he asked.
"Bottom of the channel!" Purrez shouted back.
"We'll have to find you one!"
Purrez looked back out to the beach. Men were still crawling and dying as before.
"What do we do now!" he shouted.
"We're apart of 5th platoon now! Major Holm lost his head, and the others are all dead. I hooked up Sergent Waller here!" Hunely said, nodding behind him.
Someone plopped down beside Purrez, breathing heavily.
"Private Howards!" the soldier said, "3rd platoon!"
Purrez noticed the green two foot pipes in Howards's hands. Purrez heard about them, they were made for blasting through barbed wire.
"how many men are here!" Purrez asked Hunley.
"Dog Green sector only has about 400 men on the shingle!" he replied.
"That's not enough!" Howards said.
"If we don't blow it now, we won't have any men at all!"
It was sergent Waller who had spoken. He sat behind Hunely, covered in sand and holding an M1 Thompson SMG.
"We have to get up there and clear the bunkers!"
"We'll get gunned down before we get to the sea wall!" Howards shouted.
A loud exposion echoed off to the right.
Purrez could see the the sand and smoke rise into the air and fall in the distance.
Another one went off to the left, only a few hundred feet away.
"See!" Waller said, pointing to the smoke, "The others are already blowing the wire! Now load that up, and blow a hole in this mountain of crap!"
"Yes sir!"
Howards began attatching the tubes to each other, screwing one to the other.
In few seconds he had three tubes attatched, and started loading small sticks of exposives into the bottom.
He lifted it up, and plunged it into the sand dune until only a foot was exposed.
He then pulled a lighter from his pocket, and prepared to light the fuse.
"We're ready to blow!" He yelled.
Waller looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Fire in the hole!"
Howards relayed the words back his way, and lit the fuse.
Everyone near it dove away ot the sides, Purrez being pulled again.
He hunkered down beside Hunley, holding his hand over his helmet.
He wondered if the fuse had been delayed, but flinched and tightened up when his ringing ears popped again, this time he couldn't hear anything. The sand that flew a mile into the air, landed all over him and the others near it.
Purrez lay for a moment, waiting for the dust to clear.
"Let's go! Make for the bunkers!" Waller shouted, and jumped up and lept over the huge hole in the dune.
Howards followed, carrying an M1 Garrand.
Three men came up behind, and went over the hole.
Hunley got up, and was about to run.
"Come on Purry!" He shouted, extending his hand.
Purrez took it, and climbed to his feet.
He ran, following Hunley over the dune.
The landscape in front of him was all flat and almost looked brown, looking more like dirt than sand.
Barbed wire was strung across it in every direction, looking more like a giant tagle of webs than defences.
Purrez hopped over some wire and continued on the tagled path, trying to get to the bunker ahead.
Sand kicked up six feet around him, coming close.
One man up ahead fell backward as his his arm was sawed off, the rest of the rounds striking him in the chest. He fell and lay still.
Purrez jumped over more wire, until he came to the body. He was about to kneel to see if he was alive, but Hunley tapped his helmet and said,
"No time Purry! He's dead!"
Purrez took one last look at the lifeless eyes, and started back on his path.
In a few moments he made it to the base of the bunker where the rest of the men were.
MG42s were louder now that they were right overhead, only 20 feet up.
Seven men were there, waiting to run up the side of the hill.
Waller carefully peeked around the corner, looking to the MG42 emplacement on the hill.
Chunks of cement and stone suddenly exploded off of the side of the bunker, right next to Waller's face.
He jumped back, startled but not hurt.
"Dang MG42!" he shouted, "Raymond! Take it out!"
One man came out from behind the line, holding a bazooka rocket launcher.
He got near Waller, ready to fire.
"Alright!" Waller yelled to the men, "On three, we lay down cover fire!"
The others nodded and got in position.
Purrez would have joined them if he had his carbine. Maybe he could find on somewhere.
Each man took aim.
"One, two, three, covering fire!"
A barrage of bullets exploded from their weapons, making their target duck behind the sandbags.
Raymond let the rocket loose. A moment later it exploded, a mixture of sandbags, gun parts, and two bloodied bodies were sent flying off the hill.
"It's down!" he shouted, reloading.
"Let's go! Get up the hill!" Waller shouted.
Each man jumped up and ran along the side of the bunker, climbing up the steep incline.
Purrez's feet hurt from constantly climbing and clawing to get to the top.
It took a few moments to get there, but he made it.
He saw in the distance trucks, artillery bunkers, and trenches that stretched from the ridge to the rear bunkers.
More troopers came up on the other sides, and began clearing the bunkers.
Shots echoed all around, coming from both US soldiers and Germans.
He watched as gray uniforms jumped out of trenches, climbed out of bunkers, and pointed their weapons at their targets.
Many of them were shot off their feet before they could get in position.
As the firefight raged on, Purrez and the others stood next to the bunker on their left, hiding behind the corner.
A trench that was attached to the others, came to the door, except it was laden with concrete.
One of the men near Purrez cried out as three bullets penetrated his chest and throat, spraying blood on the wall.
He dropped, and the medic with them leaned down to drag him back to safety.
Purrez spotted the M1 carbine that fell to the ground.
he quickly snatched it up, holding it tight so he din't lose it again.
Waller hopped down into the trench with three others and stood beside the door way, the other men standing on top to cover them.
Waller pulled a frag grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and threw it into the door way
"Genader!" was the one word yelled from the inside when it blew.
It sounded more like a pop than an exposion, but it was enough to kill a few.
"Light it!" Waller yelled.
The man behind him came around, and blasted flames from the flame thrower in his hands through the door.
Even at ten feet away Purrez could feel the extreme heat, causing him to back up.
Screams and cries echoed from inside as flailing carcasses came falling out of the gunports of the bunker.
"Clear!" the flamer yelled.
"Let's clear the trenches!" Waller shouted as he climbed out of the trench.
Purrez could smell the burning of flesh and clothing. Even though he grimaced, he couldn't show any pitty for those poor burning jerks, no the ones who had helped slaughter the first wave.
More men had made it to the top of the hill now, pouring bullets into the trenches.
The Germans were pratically all dead now, only a few were left running through the trenches, trying to find a way of escape.
Several of them came running through the trench attached to the bunker. Purrez and the other men let loose a hail of fire, unloading with handguns, rifles, and SMGs.
Blood and dust exploded from each of the men in the trench, knocking them to the ground.
One of the looked to be only 17. He panicked, dropped rifle, and tried to run back the other way. He was rewarded with more men who came to the trench.
Purrez aimed, and fired three shots. The German cried out as the shots tore into his back, throwing him to the ground.
He tried to crawl.
Waller came around the side, Colt 45 in hand.
"Die you little............"
Purrez couldn't hear anymore when three 45 caliber rounds finished the target.
The rest of the gunfire had died down, though men were still multiplying on the hill, taking whatever German prisoners they could.
Purrez watched as two of the rear bunkers exploded, the concrete and rubble flying through the air.
Several men hopped into the trench and started checking for ammo and weapons.
"Hey look at this Howwey" one of them said, holding a black object, "A Hitler Youth knife"
He tossed it to Howards, who caught it in midair.
Purrez watched the scene before him, not willing to touch the dead bodies in the trenches.
"Well we did it boys" Waller said, "We opened the door into France"
Hunley was sitting on the ground, holding the golden star in hand while he sobbed.
Purrez felt it too. 500,000 lives in one day.
But death and suffering didn't stop them from conqering the enemy.
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Jan. 5, 2009
Iron march
"We know their weapons are weaker than ours, we know we outnumber them, we know that the odds are against them, and that God is with us"
Captain Lence was saying, as he stood with his platoon of crewmen.
The darkness of the night hid their faces, so he couldn't tell if they trusted or despised him. They'd trusted him in the past,and he'd brought them through many victorious battles, but he had his moments of regret for the mistakes he made on fields of the past.
Lence had never lost a battle, nor had he lost any vehicles.
"I have full confidence that all of you will fight this battle with the best of your abilities, and will follow orders." Lence continued, "but let me leave you with a few things think about. You are not a superman, keep your headlights off to keep from giving your position away, and don't shoot the lead tank"
a few chuckles erupted from the crew.
"Like I said, this attack is one of the most important ones of this war, it could turn the tide. If we destroy the enemy armored divisions, we make a clear path for the rest of the
attack force, and hopefully run their whole army back to where they came from"
"Yeah, but isn't that what they always say, and yet it never works?"
Lence looked at his gunner, Gallaway.
"It only ends up that way when you're around Gallaway"
everyone chuckled again, all but Gallaway.
"Alright, remember what I said, and let's go get'em."
At that the tankers dispatched and headed for their tanks.
Lence took one long look at all the tanks lined up side by side in front of him. M1A2 Abrams tanks were the most powerful tanks in the world, and yet Lence still could only think about what could go wrong. So many lives were in his hands now, and he had to be careful how he used them.
"Sir?"
Lence looked to his loader, Nelson. 18 years old, short, strong, and too young to be in combat.
Lence on the other hand was 37, and had a good deal of experience.
"Are we ready sir?" Nelson asked.
Lence took one last look back at the rest of the tanks.
"Yup" He said.
He and Nelson turned and climbed up onto the engine deck of the M1A2 'Devestator' as they named it.
Lence lowered himself down through his cupola and into his seat fixed to the turret basket.
Nelson came down through his hatch to Lence's left, and onto his seat fixed to the floor.
Lence noticed his knees were starting to dig into Gallaway's seat in front of him. There wasn't much room in the turret, and the gunner sitting in front of him, the main sight hanging down in front of him along with his control panel, and the breach block of the 120mm M256 main gun to his left didn't make things any better.
Lence heard the wine of the other turbine engines as his other tanks were starting up, and his own tank quickly joining them.
"Systems are now online, Sir" Hoff, the driver, said.
Lence put the Kevlar helmet over his head, and made sure the earphones fit over his ears just right.
"Copy that driver" Lence replied.
He took a quick look at the CID in front him on the control panel. The green one showed him the formation of his platoon of tanks.
"Nelson, load me up a sabot" Lence said.
"Yes sir, loading up sabot bullet" Nelson replied, then pulled an APFSDS from the shell storage to the rear of the turret, and rammed it into the breach.
Each of his crew sounded over his Comm link.
"Sir gunner ready"
"Sir, driver ready!"
"loader ready!"
"Roger that crew, commander ready" Lence said.
He looked back to the CID. All the tanks were in a wave formation.
The other commanders sounded over his comm link.
"Sir, Tiger two ready!"
"Sir! Tiger six on the ready!"
"Sir! Tiger four ready"
Once all 22 tanks had reported in, Lence radioed back to Mobile Command.
"MC, this Tiger lead, 5th Tiger platoon is ready"
He waited a moment for a reply.
"Roger Tiger lead, move out to phase line Hammer"
"Roger MC, Tiger lead out"
Lence took one look at Nelson, who was nervously adjusting his seat.
"Easy there Nels" he said, "5th platoon! move out!"
At that, all the tanks of the 1st armored division rumbled off to battle.
After ten minutes of driving, Tiger lead's driver's singing was getting on Lence's nerves.
"Hoff, we all love to hear you sing 'Fire in the hole' but right now is not the time"
"Sorry sir" Hoff said, "but it's gettin' kinda boring so far, cause we ain't even seen a soul yet"
"Oh we will soon enough" Lence said.
"Sir," Gallaway said, "Why do we have to go get them when they could come get us? Either way we'll slaughter them"
"One reason Gallaway" Lence said, playing with the Nav. points on the CID, "We were given orders to take them down on their side, so that's what we're doin'"
"I don't see no point in it" gllaway said again leaning back in his seat.
"In what? Following orders?" Lence asked.
Gallaway realised his seat was restricted by the cramped turret, and leaned foreward , putting his hands on his control panel.
"No" he replied, "in havin' to-"
"Wait hold it Gallaway, quiet" Lence said, cutting him off.
He listened intently to his comm link.
"All units! All units! This Super 38! I've spotted hostile armored divisions converging on your position! Do you copy! Over!"
Yes, it was about time. Lence was ready to let all that tension go to the main gun.
"Roger Super 38! This is Tiger lead! You said you have a visual on the enemy!?"
"Affirmative Tiger lead! They are at least 8,000 meters from your position! They should be within range once you see them!"
"Copy Super 38! Tiger lead out! Gunner! get your eyes on target, we got tin cans comin' in on us!"
"I'm way ahead of you sir!" Gallaway said, peering through the main sight, "I got enough targets in range to end this battle myself!"
Lence felt the turret rotate a little, as Gallaway tried to get the gun on sight.
Lence jumped when he heard a loud ear splitting crack to his right.
"Sounds like they boys are pickin' their targets!" Lence said, "Gunner! Show them how we like to communicate!"
"Yes sir!" Gallaway replied, "I've got the gun on target, T72! 7,050 meters!"
Lence looked through his main sight and saw the green crossairs fixed on the turret of the enemy tank.
"Fire!" Lence shouted.
"On the way!" Gallaway yelled back, and pulled the trigger on his joystick.
The tank bucked backwards as the gun released its 120mm projectile.
The noise was deafened from the ear coverings, but even then all the yelling on the comm made his ears bleed.
He saw the turret of the enemy tank fly off the hull, trailing flames.
The moment the breech had recoiled and returned to normal position, the shell base popped from the open chamber, hit the steel guard, and fell into the basket on the floor.
Nelson bumped the small switch to his right. The steel door slid to the side, revealing 48 rounds of 120mm APFSDS, HEAT, and STAFF.
Nelson pulled a Sabot from the rack, and the door closed.
he turned, rammed the shell into the breach, slapped the arming lever next to the breach into the upward position, and yelled "Sabot up!".
"Target spotted!" Gallaway yelled, looking through his sight, "7,500 meters, T55!"
"Fire!"
"On the way!"
The noise of the main gun joined the other ones as the battle raged on.
All the M1s sat in their line formation, picking off what ever they saw.
Since the M1s had thermal and night vision capabilities, highly toughened armor, and long range guns, they had the upper hand, unlike the enemy tanks that were weak and spent most of their time trying to find out where on earth the M1s were.
They sat in their spots waiting to be destroyed, or moved about, getting their turrets popped by what ever saw them.
"Target destroyed!" the gunner exclaimed.
"Find me another target!" Lence shouted, looking through his sight.
The turret rotated again.
"Sabot up!" Nelson yelled.
"Target spotted! 6,000 meters! T72!"
"Fire!"
"On the way!"
The breach block kicked back again, joining the loud boom.
Nelson loaded the next round.
"Sabot up!"
Lence tried to imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his tanks. He shuttered at the thought of getting fried alive.
They quickly racked up the kills as they sat in one spot, invisible to the enemy.
"Tiger lead! This is MC! Continue on to phase line Hammer! Destroy all targets in the area! MC out!"
"Roger MC!" Lence replied, "Moving out to phase line Hammer! Driver, keep moving!"
"Yes sir!"
The M1 jolted forward and the Turbine revved up as it made its way up to 45mph.
"Tiger platoon!" Lence shouted over the comm, "Keep up the pace!"
The M1s followed the Devastator to the enemy trenches, where the Syrians were hunkered down with their burning armor support.
The trenches slowly drew closer, the burning tanks and vehicles passing by.
Lence suddenly realized they were within range of enemy small arms fire, when he heard the sound of bullets ping off the turret.
He looked through his cupola vision blocks.
Yup, sure enough the enemy infantry were opening fire from the trenches.
"Enemy infantry!" Gallaway shouted.
"I'm goin' up!" Nelson shouted back, and trying to open his hatch.
Lence stopped him just in time.
"No!" he said, "Stay in here!"
"But sir I can-"
"No! We're taking too much fire! I'll use the .50! Just keep loading!"
Nelson hesitated with a look of mischeif, and then sat in his seat.
Lence took hold of his joy-stick on the turret wall, and looked at his thermal screen. the orange outlines of enemy soldiers with AK-47s were plastered on it, rattling away at the tanks they would never even scratch.
'Syrians' He thought, 'Stupidity is the only thing they know'
He was about to pull the trigger, when a loud ear splitting rattle of a machine gun fire inside the tank made him jump.
He looked down at the gunner who was firing the coaxial MG.
He sighed, and said, "Crap it Gallaway, don't scare me like that!"
"Welcome to combat sir!" Gallaway shouted back.
Lence turned back to his console and looked through his main vision block.
He zeroed the small crossairs in on the head of one of the gunmen, and squeezed the trigger.
his roof mounted .50 cal let loose three giant bullets.
in an instant the head exploded like a watermelon.
Lence went for the others standing next to headless trunk.
as the bullets flew, the sand was thrown up five feet, along with the targets as they were dismembered.
Lence continued on, blasting what ever moved.
The devastator drew closer to trenches, only now did Lence see the enemy soldiers standing up, their AK-47s in the air.
"It looks like they're surrendering sir!" Gallaway said.
"Then let's go get'em!" Lence replied.
He took hold of the hatch handle and opened it wide. he stood up, feeling the night air. The noise of gunfire had died down; only the wine of turbines, churning tracks, and shouting men was heard.
Dismembered bodies and limbs of the enemy lay everywhere. burning tanks and vehicles scattered the landscape.
So much life lost in one night. An entire advance of US tanks, and not one was lost.
Lence grimaced from the smell of burning flesh. The stench of death was everywhere.
Loud engines roared overhead. He looked up, and saw A10 Warthog jets screaming toward the next enemy emplacement that was ten miles away.
Lence sat back, and wiped his brow.
Nelson popped his hatch and stood up next to Lence.
"Boy what a mess" he said, looking around.
"There's more to come" Lence said.
"Yeah, well may as well get some rest while we can"
"Yep"
Lence looked up and took in the wonderful smell of victory.
