Post by Enkidu on Jul 14, 2004 16:33:11 GMT -5
So there I was, anxious yet ready, crouched in the dappled shade of the thick forest. It was a suicide mission, to be sure, but it might just win us the day. Our forces were outnumbered, and reinforcements weren't due for another five minutes. The order had come down anyway: take the marker as far into enemy territory as possible, and hold it at all costs. This would allow our relief forces to punch through the opposing line, and set up a powerful defense, ensuring victory. At least, that was the plan.
Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. Was it from fear, or from the sweltering heat that somehow managed to punch through the thick forest canopy? I glanced down at my weapon; it was fully loaded with a magazine in reserve. Nervously, I flicked the safety switch to full-auto. I glanced at my comrade, he was the brave one. He had volunteered to carry the marker and I was his fire support. His head turned furtively as he peered through the foliage, looking for a good path to run. I saw him look nervously at his small machine pistol; it would help him to run more quickly through the thick brush, but would offer little in the way of firepower.
Up ran another of my comrades. "Operation commences in one minute," he hissed to the both of us. Then he flashed a stoic grin, gave a thumbs-up, and vanished into the underbrush. Seconds seemed to pass like hours as we awaited the call to action. My companion reached out, hand in a blade shape, and stabbed the air, silently indicating his indented direction of sprint. I made a similar gesture, but more to the left; I would be providing a line of fire across his path from the left side. And with that, we heard the whistle! The Operation was on.
Up from a predatory crouch my comrade bounded forward and grabbed the marker, and without stopping sprinted away. I hesitated for just an instant, scanning the area ahead for the last time, and then ran after him. From behind my combat goggles, the world seemed to blur around me as I sped through the forest. There were no noises save our heavy breathing and pounding footfalls. It seemed almost too quiet. Maybe we had caught the enemy forces off-guard! We seemed to have pushed quite far into the enemy zone. If our other marker teams had made similar progress, victory was assured!
Perhaps sensing my thoughts, my comrade ran towards some cover, slowing down. I slowed as well. I had un-slung my rifle, and was carrying it in one hand in order to run faster, but at that point, I snapped the buttstock to my shoulder and did a quick scan of our surroundings through the iron sights. To my right was the marker, now lying on the ground. Next to it was a rotted tree stump behind which lay the Runner. To his 12 o'clock and about 50 yards out was a small wooden bunker. Peering left, I spied a trail, likely where our enemy would appear. I continued to scan left, seeing only trees when suddenly, I saw movement. The bobbing heads of a small squad heading for the bunker appeared in my crosshairs. Dropping to one knee, I steadied my rifle, aimed for the point man, and opened fire.
The enemy scrambled, some diving for the bunker, some simply hitting the deck. They were too surprised to return fire, and the air was filled with their surprised shouts. The air was also filled with clattering reports as my comrade joined fire, spraying rounds into the bunker area, keeping heads down. Then, my magazine emptied, I dove into a small ditch made from tractor ruts. I was shielded in the front by a tall, thick bush. Splayed out on the ground ahead of me, I could see two of the enemy force incapacitated by our blistering fire. In the sudden silence, I could hear automatic arms fire from far away. The other marker-running squads had met the enemy, too. Grimly but quickly, I popped in a new magazine and readied my rifle for another salvo. I popped my head up out of the ditch to hear loud reports. Taking cover, I could hear the enemy rounds smash into the ground near me, and whiz in the air above me. To my right, I saw my comrade up on a knee, his machine pistol clattering. Too late to warn him, I saw an enemy soldier creep up on his three o'clock. I rose up on one elbow, enemy fire still peppering my position, and tried to intercept the tango. As I yelled a shout of caution and fired my gun, I saw my comrade cut down. Mere seconds later, his killer likewise fell.
The enemy, however, sensing fire superiority, abandoned the bunker and headed in the direction of my fire. They were too many for me, and I could see them spread out in a pincer maneuver. I was trapped. Heedlessly, I called for backup. I knew there were more friendlies behind me, guarding the base, but reinforcements were still agonizing minutes away. The situation looked bad. My choices were retreat, which was contrary to orders, or to hold the position. There was only one choice.
Wriggling around in the ditch, I checked my weapon once more; about 30 rounds remained. Thirty chances for salvation.
So I sprang up, locked on a target, and let a burst fly. The enemy dove down, taking cover behind a tree. I located another target, aimed and fired and missed. Sweat dripped down my brow, down my suddenly constricting shirt. Swiveling quickly to my left, I fired wildly - maybe I could keep their heads down long enough...
And then I heard a sharp pop, and felt a bee's sting in the side of my neck. I fell. As my vision dimmed, I could still see the dappled shade of the thick forest.
Man, Operation Broken Promise was a fun time!
-enkidu
Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. Was it from fear, or from the sweltering heat that somehow managed to punch through the thick forest canopy? I glanced down at my weapon; it was fully loaded with a magazine in reserve. Nervously, I flicked the safety switch to full-auto. I glanced at my comrade, he was the brave one. He had volunteered to carry the marker and I was his fire support. His head turned furtively as he peered through the foliage, looking for a good path to run. I saw him look nervously at his small machine pistol; it would help him to run more quickly through the thick brush, but would offer little in the way of firepower.
Up ran another of my comrades. "Operation commences in one minute," he hissed to the both of us. Then he flashed a stoic grin, gave a thumbs-up, and vanished into the underbrush. Seconds seemed to pass like hours as we awaited the call to action. My companion reached out, hand in a blade shape, and stabbed the air, silently indicating his indented direction of sprint. I made a similar gesture, but more to the left; I would be providing a line of fire across his path from the left side. And with that, we heard the whistle! The Operation was on.
Up from a predatory crouch my comrade bounded forward and grabbed the marker, and without stopping sprinted away. I hesitated for just an instant, scanning the area ahead for the last time, and then ran after him. From behind my combat goggles, the world seemed to blur around me as I sped through the forest. There were no noises save our heavy breathing and pounding footfalls. It seemed almost too quiet. Maybe we had caught the enemy forces off-guard! We seemed to have pushed quite far into the enemy zone. If our other marker teams had made similar progress, victory was assured!
Perhaps sensing my thoughts, my comrade ran towards some cover, slowing down. I slowed as well. I had un-slung my rifle, and was carrying it in one hand in order to run faster, but at that point, I snapped the buttstock to my shoulder and did a quick scan of our surroundings through the iron sights. To my right was the marker, now lying on the ground. Next to it was a rotted tree stump behind which lay the Runner. To his 12 o'clock and about 50 yards out was a small wooden bunker. Peering left, I spied a trail, likely where our enemy would appear. I continued to scan left, seeing only trees when suddenly, I saw movement. The bobbing heads of a small squad heading for the bunker appeared in my crosshairs. Dropping to one knee, I steadied my rifle, aimed for the point man, and opened fire.
The enemy scrambled, some diving for the bunker, some simply hitting the deck. They were too surprised to return fire, and the air was filled with their surprised shouts. The air was also filled with clattering reports as my comrade joined fire, spraying rounds into the bunker area, keeping heads down. Then, my magazine emptied, I dove into a small ditch made from tractor ruts. I was shielded in the front by a tall, thick bush. Splayed out on the ground ahead of me, I could see two of the enemy force incapacitated by our blistering fire. In the sudden silence, I could hear automatic arms fire from far away. The other marker-running squads had met the enemy, too. Grimly but quickly, I popped in a new magazine and readied my rifle for another salvo. I popped my head up out of the ditch to hear loud reports. Taking cover, I could hear the enemy rounds smash into the ground near me, and whiz in the air above me. To my right, I saw my comrade up on a knee, his machine pistol clattering. Too late to warn him, I saw an enemy soldier creep up on his three o'clock. I rose up on one elbow, enemy fire still peppering my position, and tried to intercept the tango. As I yelled a shout of caution and fired my gun, I saw my comrade cut down. Mere seconds later, his killer likewise fell.
The enemy, however, sensing fire superiority, abandoned the bunker and headed in the direction of my fire. They were too many for me, and I could see them spread out in a pincer maneuver. I was trapped. Heedlessly, I called for backup. I knew there were more friendlies behind me, guarding the base, but reinforcements were still agonizing minutes away. The situation looked bad. My choices were retreat, which was contrary to orders, or to hold the position. There was only one choice.
Wriggling around in the ditch, I checked my weapon once more; about 30 rounds remained. Thirty chances for salvation.
So I sprang up, locked on a target, and let a burst fly. The enemy dove down, taking cover behind a tree. I located another target, aimed and fired and missed. Sweat dripped down my brow, down my suddenly constricting shirt. Swiveling quickly to my left, I fired wildly - maybe I could keep their heads down long enough...
And then I heard a sharp pop, and felt a bee's sting in the side of my neck. I fell. As my vision dimmed, I could still see the dappled shade of the thick forest.
Man, Operation Broken Promise was a fun time!
-enkidu
