James made sure his hat fit well on his head before checking his bag to make sure he'd packed everything. He nodded, zipping it closed and pulling the handle out. His revolver hung on his right side, loaded though currently unneeded.
Glad this thing still fits, Rarity did a wonderful job with it.
There was a clatter of hooves at the door, then the door opened. Big Macintosh walked in. "Y'all ready?"
"Yep."
The red stallion nodded as well; he was carrying a couple saddlebags. He was also on his way back to the front, and both of them were traveling together.
"I guess we're as ready as we'll ever be, James said as he walked out the door, his fellow soldier following.
They trekked downstairs. They'd already had breakfast, though James had secretly hidden a couple buns in his bag for safekeeping.
Applejack and Applebloom were both waiting. The bigger sister was openly in tears, understanding the score much better than Applebloom, whose only knowledge was that her big brother was going away for some time.
"You better come back," Applejack said to Big Mac, "or ah'll... ah'll..."
Big Mac responded by hugging his sister tightly. "Ah'll come back."
You don't know that. Neither do I, come to that.
As though the stallion knew what he was thinking, he turned his head in the human's direction. "We'll both come back. Right?" he asked, with that last sounding like a threat.
James didn't know how to answer that, so he just nodded.
After a minute, the siblings parted. Applebloom leaped up to hug her brother as well. He gave her as much attention as he had Applejack.
James nervously looked at the clock. He was as sentimental as anyone, but if they were late...
Granny Smith slowly walked up to the big guy. "You go an' show 'em how an apple does things now, ya hear?"
"Eeyup."
James patted Big Mac on the neck as he said. "We'll be fine. And if it's within my power, I'll bring us both back alive." If.
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"I wish you two weren't leaving," Fluttershy said quietly.
"If either of us had any choice, do you think we would have?" James asked. He, the Mane Six, Applebloom, and Big Mac were on the way to the train station. They'd all met up at the library, and the other ponies had chosen to tag along.
"This war has caused the parting of all too many friends already," Twilight lamented. "Not to mention the heartbreak it's caused so many families."
"We've got to end it," James aid. "We have more troops, we have more guns, and, most importantly, we are united as the Griffons aren't. Their clannish ways make any sense of unity highly suspect. And I suspect their slow advance was partly due to political infighting among generals. We don't have that problem."
"As true as that may be, numbers don't win battles alone," Twilight warned him. "At least, that's what I read."
"It's true. But those with superior force should have the brains to use them intelligently. Only a fool makes only a frontal attack without throwing in another force to out-flank and outmaneuver the enemy. And a sharp, short, but accurate artillery barrage can be better than one lasting for days on end."
"I just hope we can see you both alive after this war."
"Wish for the safety of all our soldiers, while you're at it. In fact, wish for the moon while you're at it."
"Well, if Princess Luna is willing to give me control for a single night, I might..." Her face lit up in recognition. "Oh! That's one of your proverbs, isn't it?"
"Yes. The moon operates by gravity alone in my world, and the Earth revolves around the sun in the same manner."
"What!?"
The others looked as surprised as Twilight; there was a chorus of gasps that went around.
"That runs opposite to everything in this world!" the purple mare finally said.
"Next you'll say that in your world, the clouds move on their own and animals are wild," Rainbow Dash added.
"Actually, you're 100% right about that, if you cut out the sarcasm."
No one spoke for several seconds.
"That's impossible," Fluttershy murmured.
"Ah don't think so," Applejack said, "didn't sound like he was lyin'. He's serious."
"It's no small wonder why you know so much about war, then," Rarity said. "Such an uncouth world must be full of conflict."
"It's true that war does happen," James admitted, turning toward her as they began walking again. "But the world, in my opinion, is more beautiful than ugly. There is evil, yes, but there is more good. If you could see America's achievements, as well as those of mankind as a whole, I think your opinion might undergo a little realignment."
"Such as?"
"We've been to our moon before."
"But you said your world doesn't use magic," Twilight protested.
"The achievement was technological, not thaumatical."
"What's thea... tha... what's that mean?" Applebloom asked.
"It means something of magical achievement, which, if James is right, wasn't the case," Twilight explained. She turned back to James. "How would that even be possible?"
"I have little knowledge of rocketry and other space-based technology, just the idea of what it does."
A bush nearby shivered. Twilight noticed. "I think we should hurry. The train's going to be leaving soon."
And we have to make sure Lyra doesn't try and make me a part of her collection. James understood that quite well enough.
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A train's whistle deafened all those who heard it. James stood up from the bench he'd been sitting on, as did the others.
He felt a hoof touch him in the back. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Applejack standing there, smiling patronizingly. "Ah was happy to give ya a roof to live under this past week."
"The honor is all mine." James turned around. "Thank you for housing me in the first place."
"Weren't nuthin'. Thanks fer the job ya did."
"View it as my thanks for giving me someplace to stay."
"Aw, shucks," she said, "you're gonna make me blush."
"That wouldn't be such a bad thing; then you'd share a color with Big Mac and Applebloom." Everyone in the group laughed.
"I guess we should board before they take off without us," James was finally able to get out, collecting himself. "I don't know what General Barrel with say if I get back a day late. Or for that matter, what the Princesses would say."
"Take care, both of you," Rarity said to them.
"We will," James said.
"Eeyup."
"All aboard!"
James scurried onto the train, then stepped back as the red stallion followed him After Big Mac walked into the car behind him, James waved to the group collected on the station platform.
It was a bad decision. The train gave a sudden lurch, and he almost fell down. He was just barely able to clutch one of the handles on the side of the car and pull himself back up.
James walked into the car Big Mac had disappeared into, sat down beside him, and waved out the window. All the Mane Six and Applebloom waved back at them. Big Mac waved back to them, his eyes focused on his littler sister as she tried to keep up as the train pulled out of the station.
"Great little sister you got," James said, lowering his arm.
"Eeyup."
James unzipped his bag and began rummaging around in it, looking for something to read. Of course, him being him, it didn't take long, and he pulled out a Civil War book; this one featured the Atlanta campaign. He began reading it.
Jeff Davis killed his own chances out west when he set Hood in charge, just because he hated Johnston. He wondered how many times in history an army failed or a war was lost because of the likes and dislikes of one person, usually a ruler.
He continued reading. Although he didn't particularly like Sherman (considering his pro-slavery attitude and revelry in the destruction his armies had caused), he couldn't deny that his unrelenting fixation on the goal of Atlanta paid off. The only real mistake the Union general had made was making the assault on Kennesaw Mountain, probably a result of Johnston's tactic of evading Sherman continuously and retreating every time he'd been outflanked out of a position. He highly suspected Sherman had lost patience.
It had been a costly error, but it had been one Sherman hadn't repeated. And shortly afterward, Davis replaced Johnston with Hood... whose aggressive tendencies were the exact opposite of what the outnumbered Confederates had needed.
James turned the page, looking over at Big Mac as he did so, and to his surprise, he found the big pony was looking at the book, reading it. The stallion quickly realized that he had noticed, and looked away as quickly as he could.
"That's okay, big fella. History isn't meant to be hidden for the most part." With that, Big Mac relaxed. He looked quizzically at James, who chuckled. "It's okay if you want to read or look at any pictures you see. There isn't anything bad or inappropriate in this book."
After that, they both read quietly as the train sped eastward.
At noon, they were interrupted by a young pony pushing a cart of food. "Anything off the cart?" she asked.
"I'll have a bottle of soda," James said, taking out some of the bits Applejack had paid him with. "You want anything?" he asked his fellow soldier.
Big Macintosh pointed to a small stack of hay with his hoof.
The trolley pony gave a price that seemed to fair to James, although his knowledge of what things were supposed to cost in Equestrian currency wasn't the best. He paid her. She waved her hat in thanks and moved on after giving them the stuff they'd paid for.
The morning went by quietly. James yawned, growing bored. After hours of nothing, he leaned his head on Big Mac, who grunted but did not protest, as he was leaning against the window, apparently having the same intention of napping as James did.
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Bump!
James awoke with a jolt as the train began to brake. He put his hands on the back of the seat in front of him to keep from falling off his own. As the momentum from the braking started to decrease, he was able to properly sit up and take stock of his surroundings.
"Anypony who's out for the army?" the conductor asked as the train finally stopped.
James stood up, as did Big Macintosh. Both of them gathered up their bags and walked off the train. They weren't the only ones; several other newly returned soldiers left with them. "Welcome back, sir," one of them, a gray unicorn, said, clutching a stick with a bag on the end of it.
"Good to be back." James patted his revolver. It was likely to become very useful soon.
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"Good to have you back, sir," General Rolling Barrel said, extending his right front hoof.
James took it and shook. "Thanks for the welcome. Hopefully, we can win this war and be done with this mess soon enough."
"I hope so. I never want to press another trigger again."
"Hmm." James walked over to the map in the center of the large tent. "A good report on what's been going on would be a good start."
"I've got it here, sir," Crystal Clear said, unfolding a small scroll. "So far, there have been a number of skirmishes, but nothing resembling a major conflict. Reinforcements have arrived - in surprising numbers, I might add - and uniforms and damaged armor have been replaced or repaired. Food and drink have arrived in adequate amounts, and ammunition and powder are in sufficient supply - though the Quartermaster Corps have been complaining of overwork."
"Considering the logistics an army of ninety-thousand soldiers requires, I'm not surprised." James sat down in a chair and began surveying the map. It appeared about the same as he'd left it. "Anything further?"
"Just complaints from veteran sergeants that the new recruits aren't as disciplined or well-trained as they should be," Crystal answered, rolling the scroll back up. "Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary," the pegasus finished, putting the scroll back in it's place and standing up straight.
"Morale matters as much, if not more than, discipline; if a soldier isn't willing to go into battle, he won't fight at his best." James picked up a bottle of water, draining it. "I know I can count on you, at least. I presume we've been fortifying our position?"
"Yes, sir," Nightshade said from the corner. Everyone else jumped.
"Ugh!" Barrel stomped his hoof. "I thought I told you not to do that!"
"I thought I told you that the Night Guard answer to Luna alone," the Lunar captain replied, "and to any who have been given authority by her." He didn't say this with any hostility or anger. He just said it, as though stating a fact. "As per your question, sir, yes, the army's been digging trenches and placing sandbags along it's front, as well as building positions to the rear in case of the need to retreat."
"I don't think those will be necessary, though," Barrel spoke up, glaring at the night captain before going on. "The Griffons have about sixty-five thousand troops, but many of those are teenagers and mercenaries, or questionable value. Only a core of fifteen thousand are what I'd call dangerous. Of course, King Raniero has been screaming at every production center he has for more weapons, and we know they're going after bigger and fancier guns."
"A certain scoundrel by the name of Blue Fur has been hard at work in a massive, enclosed tent," Crystal put in. "He made this new-fangled rifle, and our troops have been testing it."
"He's done what?"
"it's a new weapon. It's.." Crystal scratched the back of his head, then, seeing James' pistol, lightened up. "It looks like that," he said, pointing a hoof in the direction of the gun, "only longer. And the inside of the barrel is kinda twisted... I forgot what he called it.."
"It's a process called rifling," James supplied. "It increases the range and accuracy of the gun."
"Uh, right. Well, this Blue Fur has also been working on a project that he isn't allowing anyone to see at this time. He says it's a project you approved." Crystal bore a look of disbelief.
"He has, actually."
"What?"
"I did actually give him the plans to a weapon that must remain a secret to the enemy until we're ready to reveal it." James took another bottle and emptied it.
In the interval, Barrel asked, "What was it you wanted him to build?"
"If you're so interested, I'll take you to his tent and show you myself." James got up and headed for the door. "That is, if one of you can show me the way."
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"I'm here to see Blue Fur," James said to the bruiser at the door.
"You qualified?" the guard asked.
"I'm general of this army," he answered. "I gave Blue Fur the plans for this project in the first place."
"Alright, I'll get him." The muscular earth pony walked into the tent.
"Ah, it's you again, General," Blue Fur said, walking out the tent door a few seconds later. "Excellent."
"I'd like to see the product of the plans I gave you a bit more than a week ago," James said.
"I thought you'd come for that," the blue-gray pony replied, nodding. "Um, are they coming in as well?" he asked, looking past James' shoulder at the three officers behind him.
"Yes, they have my permission... and my trust."
"Well, in that case, come in, come in." Blue Fur turned around and walked into the tent. James and his entourage followed.
James looked up at the mechanical vehicle that stood in the center of the tent. It was made of metal, and large enough to house several crew members inside, and was similar in shape to a German A7V of the First World War, though the main body bulged out like a barrel on it's side. Instead of a set of proper caterpillars, the vehicle bore four large wheels, with the front and back wheels on either side connected by a thin set of caterpillars, which James was surprised would bear the vehicle up. In the front, a cannon stuck out, presumably a breech-loader. A series of openings were placed in the side, presumably where the crew could shoot out of; currently, metal coverings blocked these openings. A big observation post, almost identical to that of the A7V, stood at the top, probably for the commander to look out of and watch the battle. Almost as conspicuous, a very short smokestack stood at the top and rear of the machine.
It was impressive for the prototype of Equestria's new tank. Still, James was a little worried. His plans resembled a French Renault FT-17. "My designs don't look anything like this," he said quietly to Blue Fur, as the others looked on in awe. "I wanted a turret on top, and it was less than half as big as this."
"Well, yes sir," the engineer answered, "but - forgive me - you aren't exactly a genius when it comes to blueprints. I had to discard much of what was in the original design simply because it wouldn't work or would be... inefficient. I'm not saying the idea wasn't sounds, just the way you put it out there. I might be able to come up with something like your original design at some point."
"I'm sorry I questioned your innovation," James said, taking his hat off.
"It's something I'm used to. There are still things I could do to improve this current design, I know that."
"At any rate, how many of these could you and a proper crew build?"
"Hmm," Blue Fur said, raising a hoof to his chin and thinking hard. "I could build maybe five more of these within two weeks, given current supply. After that, we wouldn't have enough materials to build anymore."
"If I could get a skilled group of builders and engineers, as well as an adequate supply of materials, how would that improve the manufacture rate?"
"If you could do that, I'd be very grateful." Blue Fur thought for a few more seconds. "I think we might be able to build ten more in two weeks, with a similar rate of production in the following months."
James was a little disappointed - he'd hoped for more - but he hid it. Blue Fur had done well as it was. "Can the caterpillars stand the pressure they'll be under? They look very thin."
"Yes; it may look weak, but my unicorn associates have managed to magically shape and forge the metal, giving it properties that will allow it to go without breaking... as long as a cannon shot doesn't blow them off, that is."
"We'll probably lose a few that way." James walked up to the tank and placed his right hand on it. "How strong is the armor, and how much would it be able to withstand?"
"Oh, there's more than mere armor protecting it, although that alone is three inches thick, enough to repel a normal cannon ball striking it, and the rounded belly might well be able to angle shots away. No, this marvel has a device designed by unicorns inside that will, when powered by unicorn magic, project a shield over it, protecting the barrel and the crew inside."
"Barrel? I doubt the crew can fit inside the cannon."
Blue Fur laughed. "Not the cannon, no. I was referring to the entire machine; I've taken to calling it a barrel, given it's shape."
"In my world, machines with a purpose like these are called tanks."
"I fail to see the resemblance, sir; this looks nothing like your average water tank."
James decided to give up that argument. "How many are needed to pilot it?"
"That's been on my mind as well. The optimal would be three, for minimal casualties if the barrel were to be destroyed, but I fear that that would lead to a degraded performance. I'd say that five would be necessary for peak efficiency; preferably seven, though obviously that would lead to greater casualties should enemy fire break through the shield and armor."
"Five... So a commander, a loader, a gunner, a driver, and someone to operate the shield device."
"Precisely. And, if you added two regular soldiers, they could fire out of the openings in the hull with the new rifles I've made."
James nodded. "How fast can it go?"
"I'd say maybe eight miles per hour, assuming no obstructions get in the way."
"Great work, Blue Fur." James put a hand on the pony's neck. "These things could save a lot of lives once we've produced enough of them to have an effect."
"You're too kind, sir. I know I there are improvements I could make. Alas, many of them you find only through trial and error, and in the process of makings something new. It's the fun of engineering."
James chuckled, then brought his right hand onto the metal rung on the tank. "May I...?"
"Be my guest."
James climbed up the ladder built onto the hull. When he reached top, he noticed a hatch built just forward of the observation post. He opened it. The interior was dark, except for those areas illuminated by the open hatch. "I'm going in," he announced. He pulled himself up, sat down, and propelled himself feet first into the vehicle.
It was dark inside the tank. Remembering the openings in the hull, he made his way over to the left side and groped for a handle on the wall. A minute later, he was able to find one. He pulled it, but it didn't budge. After a few seconds, he realized he was pulling in the wrong direction and pushed instead. The window opened with a screech of metal.
"How is it, sir?" Barrel asked.
"Dark. Could one of you bring a lamp?"
"I will," the colonel said. Thirty seconds later, James heard Barrel's hooves on the rungs, and after a moment the earth pony's head appeared at the hatch. "Here you go, sir."
James took the lantern. "Thanks," he said as the colonel lowered himself into the tank. The illumination provided by the lantern allowed him to take a good look at the inside. At the rear of the vehicle, a boiler-like, rust-colored object loomed. A tall, white pole - possibly the shield mechanism - stood in the center, sticking out of a box-like with a little seat for the operating unicorn to sit on. The cannon was, as he'd guessed and Blue Fur had stated, a breech-loader, fitted on a swiveling platform allowing the gun to be rotated to the left and right as the gunner found necessary. An elevated chair, reachable by ladder, stood under the observation post, undoubtedly for the commander.
"It looks pretty sound, sir," Barrel said after taking a good look. "If we can get a bunch of these things, we could make a breakthrough easily. I'm going to endorse building more."
"I wouldn't expect anything less, Colonel."
"In fact," the earth pony added, looking back at him, "I'll lead the battle in one of these things the first time we use 'em."
"Are you sure about that?" James asked. "These things could have teething troubles, and they'll attract fire more so than a regular soldier."
"Yes, I'm sure. We need these, and more of them. The bigger the hammer we swing, the better for us."
"In that case, I suppose I can't really stop you. You'll, need, of course, to play commander in any training sessions these things see."
"Willing and ready for them, sir."
"Alright then, the job of Equestria's first tank general is yours."
"Kinda agree with Blue Fur on this one, sir; not to toot my own horn - not that I have one - but this thing looks more like a barrel than a tank."
"Barrel leading barrels. I guess it can't be helped," James said as his subordinate commander laughed.
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"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called this council of war," General Grayfeather said to the group of officers before him.
All the assembled nobility and commanders began looking around at one another, Raymond and Barlow included.
"The situation, as you all know, has become dire. Our numbers haven't proven sufficient to defeat the Equestrians, and furthermore they continue to throw more soldiers into the fight. We maintain a technological lead, and the enemy has a Changeling invasion to think about, but unless we manage to turn the situation around quickly, we face fighting a defensive war against an enemy with the ability to outflank us readily. Unless the king is able to persuade the many clan leaders to give us more soldiers, we face a serious disadvantage."
"The King has no authority to conscript levies from the clans, except what those chiefs allow," one officer said.
Grayfeather frowned. That was the crux of the problem. Many clan leaders still have able-bodied Griffons, but were either refusing outright to commit them or were stalling for time. Considering the failure of the war until now, with the exception of the capture of Trottingham - which the King was currently thinking of renaming. With the army beaten repeatedly, and suffering heavy losses in the two engagements it had won, the clan leaders were supremely reluctant to commit further troops to a war that had seen much more failure than success. Diamond dogs and others who might have been willing to join for money were now weighing the potential gain they stood to make and the risk to their lives in a war that might be lost.
He comforted himself by patting a pouch on the belt he was wearing. There was going to be a big change in the clan leaders' dispositions soon, although he wasn't going to tell any of the officers here that.
"That may be true," he finally responded. "But even so, we must find a way to win this conflict quickly, before the superior Equestrian resources can be brought to fully bear. I am... open to any suggestions."
"I would suggest going the defensive, and holding onto our new territory," Barlow said. "Our troops are in no condition to make a concerted assault against an enemy who has been working unceasingly on breastworks since the fall of Trottingham."
"The loss of one of their most splendid cities should make the enemy agreeable to a peace on our terms," another officer offered. "Best to take what we can rather than risk losing it to the enemy."
"That is not your decision to make, Grimwald," Grayfeather pointed out. "The King has made it clear that such a solution is out of the question; the only solution is total victory." He got up and walked to the map gestured to the positions of the two armies. "The enemy's position is indeed strong, yet it must be taken."
"Madness!"
"Insanity!"
"What about our troops?"
"Our numbers aren't..."
"Enough!" Grayfeather lifted ac claw, indicating that he wasn't in the mood to hear anything opposed to his plan. "If the enemy's flanks can be turned, we can catch their army in a cauldron and put them in a crossfire." He moved the piece on the map, so that most of his units were massed on the flank of the army. "If that happens, we can defeat them."
"And if the enemy attacks us before that happens, what about our center? What do we hold it with?" Raymond demanded.
"If that happens, the center shall fall back, allowing the right and left flanks of the army to turn inward and destroy the enemy, similar to the plan I've set in place. You should be more concerned about your own troops than then enemy's own actions, I've taken them into account."
"Are ya mad?" came the Scottish accent of a captain as he forced his way to the force of the other officers. "Stark, ravin' mad? We have neither the resources nor the Griffons we need fer such an ambitious plan! Ya'd have all o' us die in some damn fool operation just ta make a point to the Equestrians!"
"Remove him from the assembly," the General said calmly to the guards at the door. "I'll deal with him later, and discuss with him matters of loyalty and military discipline."
"Get yer damned claws off me!" The captain yelled as the guards grabbed him and began dragging him out of the tent.
"Now then, I will hear no opposition to this plan, and neither will his Majesty. The plan will go forward, and victory will be ours."
"Then what was the point of askin' us fer ideas?" Raymond demanded.
"My intention was to test your willingness to take to the plan. I find myself unpleasantly disappointed." Grayfeather looked around the room. "You are all dismissed. Make the necessary preparation for the attack. I will come and inspect the troops personally by the time the day is done."
Most of the officers left immediately, but Raymond stood his ground. "With all due respect, General, Olaf was right; you've gone mad. What happened to you?"
Grayfeather was half-surprised at his own reaction; to bow his head as he sat back down. "You'd never understand. What we do is for the best for our kingdom and it's future dominion. If we fail now we are lost, as is our kingdom." He looked up. "The ponies have lorded it over all creation since their Princesses took the throne; we have no power over magic or the elements, and the sun and moon remain beyond our control as they always have. It's time that changed, for our people to take their rightful place in history. Perhaps you're right, and Olaf, too; perhaps I have gone mad. But it's a madness that's infected the entire kingdom. If we must go down, we'll take the entire world down with us if we can, for as I said, if we fail, we are doomed to a dark age where our people will never mean anything again to anyone. We'll be downtrodden, the laughingstock of nations, servants, slaves. If we are to take our rightful place, we must embrace the madness of power, or else be obliterated by a lost opportunity."
He sat up. "This is our last chance. I expect your division in position by the end of the day on our right flank. I'll begin my inspection there. We march within the week."
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James signed his name on a letter to his parents, then sealed it in an envelope to be mailed. The lantern in the tent lit things up nicely.
I hope I can see you soon, he hoped and prayed silently.
The tent flap opened. "Who is it?"
"A few good friends," came Bright Star's voice, which was followed by a meow. James turned to see not only the yellow earth pony but also Silver Lining, White Knight, and Silver Shield. Kiki was perched on Bright's back; she jumped off and trotted over to James, who patted her behind the ears.
"Welcome, my friends. It's good to see you all again."
"Good to see that pathetic scum of a Prince didn't get you fired," said Shield.
"I thought it was the job of the Royal Guard to protect and serve the royal family?" James asked, raising an eyebrow in a mock inquiry.
"He doesn't deserve respect from anypony anymore, not after that putrid excuse of a trial they set up against you and the finest Captain I've known in my twenty years as a Royal Guard. Not to mention the insult to all of us serving in this war. Snake Pit; I hope he gets a life sentence at the very least."
"I'm just glad James wasn't the one who got thrown in jail," Bright said, extending a hoof for James to shake, which he did.
"I wish those at home better understood what it really was like at the front, and what risk we take for their future," James said, remembering the angry others and the hate mail he'd received.
"Those at home oughta boil their letters," Silver Lining replied, hovering a foot or two above the ground. "My family still write me letters sayin' to come home, as if I weren't in this to tha finish."
"Waitin' for yer orders sir!" White Knight sounded out.
"My orders are to get a good night's sleep. You'll all need it."
"Might want to be careful, sir," Shield said as he raised a hoof to try and stifle a yawn. "The Guard might get lazy if you issue those kinds of orders all the time."
"I'll bear that in mind." James stole a glance at his maps. He was already coming up with a plan for an offensive, even without the tanks - or barrels, he supposed - he'd wanted. Artillery was plentiful, as was ammunition. Before long, the plan was going to come to fruition.
The fury of Firestar shall break upon the enemy come dawn three days from now, he thought, knowing that, up until the few hours before the offensive was to begin, only he would have any idea what that meant.