Episode 9

Infantry Screen

Sending infantry to battle tanks felt like a desperation move—but we’d had no time to prep.

We moved slowly, coming closer and closer to the sound of battle, scanning as we went. I was on point when we made first contact with the enemy. CRACK! A bullet snapped into a tree—right next to my helmet! I hit the ground like a rock and the rest of the team did as well.

“Give me eyes! Where’d that come from?” Jock hissed into his radio.

I looked but saw nothing but the thermal signatures of my team, plus some small animals and birds, scattered here and there.

CRACK! To the left! I jerked my head over and saw the edge of a figure peeking around a tree, maybe 300 yards out. “Got him, Sergeant—4 o’clock,” I said, but Rocky and some others were already spraying rounds. The outline disappeared—he’s staying behind a tree, a big one. Back home I’d say it’s a 300-year-old monster. Lots of cover. Rocky saw that too and stopped shooting. Park was already crawling out for a clear shot, then there was another shot from off somewhere and I see the enemy fall down next to the tree on the thermal. Someone hit him, but wasn’t us. Then the radio crackled again. “Friendlies coming up on your position to the right.”

“Acknowledged. Good timing,” Jock says, getting up from the ground, then turning to us. “Okay, everyone, keep your eyes out for thermals so we don’t miss their infantry screen. They probably aren’t dumb enough to lead with their armor.”

I realized the terrain had brought our squads together, the more open ridges on either side of the forested valley likely narrowing towards the battle.

We moved ahead catlike, coming up towards the sound of battle. As we got closer, the trees above lit up with bursts of light like lightning, as shells exploded and scattered the shadows. And then we came to the smoldering edge of the forest and looked out into a hell of burning vehicles, fallen men, churning armor and flaming fuel. A convoy of Ulimbese armored assault vehicles were pinned down in the valley, facing across a creek towards a high position with a road wrapping around the waist of a mountainside.

“What the hell?” Jock said over the radio. “They don’t even seem to have any armor! How did they pin ’em?”

As he said it, I caught a glimpse of two trucks zipping around the mountain road on the other side, loaded with men. Corwistalian troops. Then there was a massive Thump-CRACK! as a Ulimbese tank exploded while climbing the other side.

“Artillery!” someone snapped. “Big stuff!”

Judging by the size of the explosions, they were firing at least 100mm shells. And it wasn’t just the artillery. The Corwistalians must have had fire teams scattered throughout the woods. I saw a streak of fire come down and into the armored division, taking the tread off another tank. And then another Thump-CRACK! of a shell. Farther along the mountain, they had a cannon and had pinned them in nicely.

I was starting to get the picture here—the Ulimbese had pushed forward, expecting to face minimal resistance, only to have been pinned at the worst possible point by a well-positioned Corwistalian force. Behind me I heard the thunder of a large ship taking off and looked back towards the landing zone in time to see our troop transport heading back for the safety of space. I fought the sinking wave of despair that briefly threatened to overwhelm me.

It was one thing to go planetside knowing that you could get off any time you liked. But considering how much heat we had taken coming in, I knew there was no guarantee that we would be able to get off again easily.

Captain Marks’s voice came over the radio, calm and collected. “Wardogs, our allies need an infantry screen. Advance and neutralize the enemy anti-tank teams.”

We immediately advanced into the woods, moving to follow it around and across the creek farther upstream, then come down. Even now, other squads were scaling the ridge to the other side. Ulimbese snipers and light mortars were firing into the woods ahead of us anytime they got a bead on a source of incoming fire, and I sincerely hoped they would keep their targeting well ahead of our advance.

The terrain was rough and the trees went from dense to patchy as rocks pushed up in shelves and bumps along the hillside. The going was slow until we came across an access road. Probably a farm lane. It was muddy in some spots and rutted with truck tracks. Then we reached a metal bridge over a ravine. The creek rushed below, wild between the rocks. If the Ulimbese had been more careful, they could have brought their armor through up here—but it was a linear danger area and a good place to get nailed. We stopped and got eyes on the woods, seeing nothing. The bridge wasn’t a long stretch, but it was wide open.

“Cellucci and Ward, secure the opposite side!” Jock ordered, and they did, running across quickly before covering the woods. Four-eyes and Jock went next, then Jones and Leighton, then finally, it was time for Park and me to cross.

We moved fast and low, then the next squad started once we were clear. They were about halfway across when I saw a blast of fire from the woods and an RPG streak up from a little below in the ravine. It just missed the bridge and arced across into the woods. CRACK! A tree exploded into flames and plummeted down into the creek. The rest of the men on the other side took defensive positions and started pumping suppressive fire into the woods where the grenade had emerged.

“Get down there and nail that RPG team!” Jock yelled, and we cut through the woods, trying to get eyes on the enemy. Even with our thermals the trees were dense here. I went in a beeline with Park as some of the other men cut around. My chest pounded as we found a small clearing I assumed was the spot where they’d launched.

Park and I searched the location, seeing nothing… nothing… nothing—then I saw something out of the corner of my eye—a hand on a trunk! I opened fire and the man ran, dropping his launcher and followed by a second soldier. Park nailed the second one through the back as I blasted at the second guy. He went down hard. “We got them, Sergeant,” I reported as I came up on the bodies. Park’s guy was dead, but the guy I hit was still alive and bleeding from a wound on his thigh.

“Shoot,” I said to Park. “I’m still getting used to these old rifles. I suppose we could tie that leg off, then we could–”

CRACK! Park shot the wounded man in the head.

“…or we could just do that,” I said.