“That’s our job soldier!”
“We have to retreat, Sir!”
Taylor released his grip on the weapon and slapped the man across the face.
“Get yourself together, Private, and man the fuck up!”
The marine looked sheepish. They were all exhausted and astonished at the chaos and bloodshed all around them, but there was no choice but to fight on.
“Is Captain Friday still alive?” shouted Taylor.
“Yes, Sir!”
“Get back to him, you take up your weapon and you fight marine! No retreat!”
The Major loaded the last of a full load into his launcher and turned back to the fight to see artillery shells smashing the enemy positions, but as many flying overhead in their direction. Buildings either side of the river were being reduced to rubble. The bunker they defended was only still standing due to its excessively robust construction.
Enemy tanks drew into view that appeared much like Jones had seen previously on the beaches south of Brest, though they had vastly larger turrets and guns. They continued firing as they saw the gun of the nearest tank elevate to their height and fire. The wall just ten metres from Jones’ position smashed inwards, punching a hole as tall as a man. The three soldiers there were thrown across the floor in a mangled mess. Taylor looked at the fearsome vehicles approaching.
“Take out those tanks!” he shouted.
The Aardvark launchers began to fire but it wasn’t soon enough. A second shell smashed into the floor below, rocking the bunker and almost taking Mitch off his feet.
“Everything you’ve got on those tanks right now!” he barked.
He ran to the edge and opened fire with his launcher, firing repeatedly at the nearest tank. Over twenty-five grenades struck it and eleven Aardvark rockets before the turret was pierced and knocked out of its mountings, rendering it useless. Before they could target the next tank another two massive energy pulses smashed into their building. One of the shots smashed out a large section of their defensive wall and went through the roof, causing rubble to collapse and kill one soldier.
The troops immediately ran to the firing lines and continued to rain down fire on the remaining two tanks. Mech fire piled through the gaping holes in their structure but all fire was concentrated on the vehicles below. Seconds later the second tank erupted into flames. They turned their attentions to the third but it fired at their top floor. The blast expanded a previous hole and sent Taylor and Douglas sprawling across the floor.
“Take it out!” shouted Jones.
Taylor heard the immense explosion from the floor where he had been thrown. He got back up to see that Major Douglas’ armour was smouldering from a broad chest wound. He shook his head in despair at the death all around him. He got up on one knee and looked around to see that there were more than twenty dead on his floor alone. Looking up to the defences he could see that Jones still fought on alongside a mixture of troops from all three units.
He staggered to his feet and up to the ammunition crates. Flicking open the launcher he loaded it once more and packed his webbing with as many spare rounds as he could get. Despite still carrying the rifle on his back, he knew what little it could do against this enemy. A light caught his attention from the corner of his eye as the battle raged on, it was the hard line comms. Stumbling over to it as he sealed the ammunition pockets on his vest, he picked up the handset.
“Bombing raid incoming on your position, fall back fifty metres from the river, over.”
“Who is this?”
“Orders direct from Brigadier Dupont. Inform Colonel Chandra to fall back immediately, you have three minutes to haul arse, over.”
Taylor threw down the handset and snapped his head around to look at the survivors who continued to fight at the walls.
“Fall back! Fall back! Now!”
The men initially looked at him with both shock and disbelief. It was the command they had hoped for from the beginning but never expected to receive. They had all prepared themselves to fight and die where they stood.
Taylor and Jones rushed to Chandra who was propped up at the end of one of the firing positions.
“What’s going on, Major?” she shouted.
“Dupont has an airstrike incoming, we’ve got three minutes to get the hell out of this death trap!”
The two men got either side of the Colonel and wrapped her arms around their shoulders, taking the weight off her crippled leg.
“Everyone out now!” shouted Taylor.
There were few wounded in the bunker, most being killed outright by the onslaught of the enemy’s heavy weapons. Friendly artillery continued to fly overhead and pound the enemy positions. They stormed down the stairwells of the bunker. Only half the soldiers who had entered the battered building had made it out alive. They rushed across the wide-open street towards the next line of buildings fifty metres back from the riverside.
Taylor shouted to the infantry in the trenches as they passed by. Some were already leaping out and following the troops fleeing back, others stayed and fought on. The hole-ridden bunker at their backs did them one last service, giving them cover as they fell back. They could already make out friendly troops that had taken up positions in the tall commercial buildings they were approaching.
Chandra squirmed in pain as the two officers hauled her. They were as surprised as she that she’d survived the explosion, but it was little relief in the ongoing battle. The occupying troops filled every window in sight with their weapons at the ready. One building had completely collapsed between two of the friendly positions, its rubble provided ample cover.
“There!” shouted Taylor.
“Damn right, I’d rather die fighting than be crushed when the next building comes down!” Jones added.
The survivors from the bunker swarmed into the ruins and immediately took up position looking back towards the bridge where they’d run from. Many of the troops in the trenches continued to fire at the advancing enemy with everything they had. The air was suddenly filled with the reverberating drone of a huge wing of heavy bombers.
Looking overhead, Taylor watched as a wall of fighters stormed across the sky with all guns blazing. Rocket trails filled the air as missiles soared towards the enemy aircraft. The fighters were cutting a path through at a great cost to make way for the bombers. Lights pulsed in the sky as ground weapons fired up against the mass of aircraft.
Their attention was quickly drawn ahead as an enemy tank had managed to gain a foothold on the bridge and brush aside the countless burning wrecks. It rolled on past the trenches as the troops had little left that could stop it.
“Tank!” shouted Jones.
The men in the buildings next to them had already opened up with their weapons but most of the gunfire and ARMAL devices were bouncing off its thick armour.
“Get the Aardvarks firing!” he shouted again.
Captain Friday ducked and weaved in between the rubble as the gunfire increased. The tank’s three guns were firing relentlessly into the friendly position and blowing holes out of the building.
“Sir! Aardvark ammo is almost out! Grenades are getting low too!”
“Just keep firing!”
Trails from the rocket launchers slammed into the tank as it continued to roll towards them. The main gun lowered in readiness to fire at their position just as a volley of rockets slammed into it causing the vehicle to amble to a halt. Holes littered its armour and there were no signs of life. As they stared at the result of their work, they had failed to see what was happening overhead. Massive explosions erupted around the river instantly deafening them all.
The troops ducked down as stone and glass was projected hundreds of metres through the air and the ground shook. Taylor lifted his head just a little to look at the carnage up ahead. Bombs smashed the enemy positions in an almost continuous stream for as far and wide as his eye could see. The ear splitting onslaught was
