Unforgotten Ponies: Retaking Omahoof

by Sgt. Pony Brony

The Red Beach

The cold air struck the ponies compressed inside their small, metal sea-to-land boats, which greatly populated the green sea. The rectangular transporters were about the size of small tool sheds, each one without tops, exposing the soldiers from above.

The buoyant metal boxes slowly made their way to the soon-to-be sandy graveyard, Omahoof Beach. The Equestrian army showed mixed emotions, some eager to fight, others cringing and fearing the sight of inevitable death.

In one transporter, held an emotionless, dark brown colt with a muscular build. The front of his helmet showed two silver rectangles standing vertically and two thinner ones lying horizontally in between. He stood in the center of his section, prepping for the hell that lay before everypony.

“Captain Redscar, we’ll be arriving at the shoreline in approximately five minutes.” A private informed.

Redscar took a deep whiff of the humid air. “Alright men, you know the drill” He spoke in a strong voice. “Pray now and fight with nobility. We are the Equestrian army. We will not stop, not even with the blood of our brothers in our hooves.” He closed his eyes and mentally apologized to his friends and family. “May Celestia be with us,” He whispered.

The first wave of boats had already reached the shore, which was pre-occupied by Cervidian Army. The area behind the beach inclined and was covered with enemy bunkers and MG placements.

The gates slowly opened on each boat that had landed on the boat. The only sound heard was the creaking of the metal gate as it lowered to the ground. The sounds were suddenly interrupted by the MGs launching rounds at the Equestrian troops. Seconds later, soldiers began falling to the ground, no more than a foot away from the boats. The sand was colored red, blood quickly flowing out of the lifeless soldiers.

Redscar could only hear the sound of MGs and grenades going off on the beach. His platoon was horrified.

“What’re we gunna do?!” A terrified soldier began to have a mental breakdown.

“I don’t wanna go this way!” Another cried.

Redscar spoke up in a commanding, but reassuring voice. “Okay, OKAY! When we land, I will find us a safe rendezvous point. I…” He choked a bit.

“I don’t know what will happen after, but I assure you, we will think of something.” He turned away from his frightened platoon. He’s known his troop too well. It sickened him to think that most of them weren’t going to make it.

He sighed deeply. “I will think of something.”

The boat suddenly shook, having the troop tense up concentrate. They noticed that they were halted in place and the gate in front of them began to open up. The sound of MGs and explosions ripped through the air, making other noises and the hollering of dying soldiers almost inaudible. In no time flat, the gates completely opened. Three soldiers dropped dead right in front of Redscar, which names he had remembered fluently.

“Fragger, Gunther, Patch-up.” Redscar remembered.

He snapped out of his mourning state and ran straight behind one of the many Dragon’s Teeth that populated the beach.

“So that’s why our landing crafts couldn’t get any closer…” He thought to himself. He spotted a soldier sprinting towards a trench, where a couple of others had taken refuge from the heavy gunfire. As the soldier jumped over bodies and rocks, an explosion suddenly ended him under his feet.

Redscar examined the battlefield while avoiding speeding bullets. He spotted something unusual by some Dragon’s Teeth… A lump was barely visible in the ground near the tank traps.

Instantly knowing the traps placed by the Cervidian Army, he warned the remnants of his platoon. “Watch for mines around the tank traps!” He shouted.

“What now, sir?” A corporal shouted.

“Lemme think!” Redscar replied. He quickly examined the battlefield once again…

He glanced at the side of the hill. “Five to seven MG placements every ten to twenty yards…” He logged in his mind.

He looked over the top of the cliff. “…One or two concrete bunkers every thirty to forty yards…”

He then spotted a ditch where held a few survivors from the heavy gunfire. “Alright, troop! You see that ditch over there in front of that MG placement? We’re gunna take shelter there!” He yelled at his men.

The surviving members of his platoon nodded and sprinted towards the ditch, dodging the landmines and bullets continuously. Redscar followed, not looking anywhere but his destination. The sounds of explosions rang through his ears, making him temporarily deaf and the sight of a dying comrade was in every square foot of the battlefield.

“Shrapnel, Bullet Blaze…” He continued to track his KIA soldiers.

Most of the platoons were already completely wiped out, others with more than half gone or all severely injured. Redscar’s was a combination of both, medics closing wounds while dragging them to the rendezvous point. Some of the healthy soldiers tried to lay suppressive fire upon the enemy gunners, but that tactic was short-lived. The MG’s gave the Cervidians too much of an advantage, compared to the Equestrian small arms, ripping apart the allied forces and disorienting the soldiers.

Adrenaline rushed through Redscar as he galloped towards the ditch, bullets trying to take him down. Unfortunately, his agility did not match his strength and stamina, causing him to take a round in his left hoof.

Redscar grunted in pain as he fell face-first into the sand. He tried to get up quickly, but his left hoof stung too much with a bullet lodged deep inside his bicep and causing him to topple over.

Suddenly, he felt something go underneath his injured forelimb and force him back on his feet. Looking over, he saw a familiar-looking colt, helping his superior officer get to safety.

“Private Hoofington…” Redscar managed to say.

“Hang on tight, sir. We’re almost there!” He said, hurrying as much as he could to get to the ditch.

Hoofington fought by the captain's side almost every battle and helped each other when they needed the most, whether one was injured in battle or feeling a bit homesick in the barracks. Either way, they both stuck together no matter what.

The two began speed walking their way towards safety, Hoofington almost carrying the captain, blood trickling down his hoof. Hoofington caught something in the corner of his eye behind them. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see…

“Reinforcements!” A Sergeant yelled. In the red and green water held multiple, large landing crafts. Inside of each one, was a heavy M4 Sherman tank.

Comments

[Slaphappy16]

Not sure what to say. Interesting, but i can't imagine this. You need a backstory. I can understand that this is obviously suppose to be World War II, but how did ponies get mixed up in this? Who are these Cervidians? Other ponies, or Griffons?
I will keep an eye on this.