My history with Her Lunar Majesty’s Royal Rifle Regiment began five years ago when I walked into an armed forces recruitment office intending to join the Royal Guard, or the Grenadier Guards Canterlot and Hoofshire Regiment as they’re officially known. However just as I set my hoof through the door, I found a couple of pegasi dressed in uniforms I’d never seen before. Rather than the tan working dress uniforms of the Equestrian army or the ceremonial golden armor of the Royal Guard, these two pegasi were dressed in jet black uniform jackets with silver buttons and midnight blue cuff-titles.
To my sixteen-year old eyes, those uniforms were the coolest things I’d ever seen. I approached them and asked them a few questions, and I soon found out that they were NCOs in the newly re-constituted Lunar Guard Regiment, which struck me as odd. I’d seen Lunar Guards before, and they were distinctive, to say the least, with those bright golden eyes and bat wings. However the two guardsponies explained that the armor carried an enchantment to make the pegasi of the company look like bat-ponies, and non-pegasi were simply kept out of ceremonial duty.
Half an hour later they’d sold me on joining the Lunar guards instead of the Royal Guard. Joining hadn’t been an easy process, despite the fact that the regiment was under-strength and still being formed; the NCOs and officers intended those joining to be up to the task of guarding the Lunar Princess, in addition to meeting the Lunar Rifle Regiment’s commitments on the battlefield. The result was a regiment with six companies rather than the normal five, with one company, Noctis Chapter, dedicated to the personal security of the Princess and the other five companies tasked with ceremonial duties in addition to performing our battlefield role as an infantry regiment. It also resulted in the most lethal regiment in the Equestrian army, made up as it was of the best NCOs from the regular army, a pool of young and aggressive talent and a patron who took an aggressive interest in our well-being and development as a regiment and as individual soldiers.
Before joining the army, I didn’t have a hope in hell of amounting to anything in civvie street. I’d had a ‘challenging’ childhood in Cloudsdale, and the highlight of my school career was when I evaporated the maths classroom’s roof on a dare. This itself wouldn’t have been a problem had a Prench class on the floor above not decided to stay behind after hours for extra credit. So in short, my resume upon leaving school was ‘unimpressive’. Now, six years after leaving school, I’m a corporal in Princess Luna’s Regiment with experience in a variety of disciplines that would make most of my former classmates green with envy.
I didn’t make the cut for Noctis Chapter and, so I was put into K company of the light infantry portion of the regiment, where I was posted until Gryphonia. After that went belly up, I was posted into B Company, which was part of the mechanized component. I’ve been on training exercises, overseas on friendly training ops to Germaneigh and various other bits and bobs. It’s been a blast, figuratively speaking, especially for the pegasus pony who never really saw eye to eye with civvie street, particularly the civvie street embodied by my upper class Cloudsdale family, where everything I wanted could be laid on for me with just a flick of my pinions. Here however, everything I've become, I've earned with my own hooves. No-pony cares what my family name is, which suits me just fine.
It hasn't been easy of course, memories of sharp conversations with stupid NCOs and even more idiotic officers play through my head as I lie back in the hay, my eyes half hooded. More than once I've been in trouble for getting into fights with ponies from other regiments or companies who tried to take the piss, but then that spirit characterises the Lunar Regiment all over. An aggressive determination to succeed, to take on all comers by any means needed and a willingness to punt the rulebook through the nearest window and follow it in, weapons blazing.
I'm distracted from my ramble down memory lane by a sudden sharp whistling. My eyes snap open and I leap to my hooves even as the other members of the section do the same. Around us there is a sudden palpable frisson of activity and energy. The mortar crew who had been sitting around opposite to us are now leaping to their hooves and grabbing shells to load into the mortars that have been brought forward for our use. Other Lunar Guards-Ponies are coming out from where they've been billeted, under the cover of the sheds that house the other platoons, weapons already armed and active. Platoon sergeants are stalking among them like sharks among the minnow and corporals are barking out orders. Sections are dashing this way and that in response to orders and a frisson of excitement and nervousness fills the air.
Corporal Punishment forces her way through the press of two platoons of ponies forming up to move out as the whistle continues to blow. “One-Three, where are you?”
We see her looking around the court-yard, and I gesture for my comrades to move up with me “Come on, One-Three, form up on me!” She commands as we quickly clatter up to her, forming up in a cluster around her.
“Right ponies, short and simple, the enemy are going to be attacking our position in five minutes in overwhelming numbers,” She says frankly. “Estimated strength... a full company plus armour and air support, our orders are to hold this position for as long as we can,” She grins at us, a savage predatory grin that makes me wonder if the ancient line of bat-ponies runs a little truer in her family, or else if she had a timberwolf for a cousin. “I've got us front row seats, we're going to be the commander's quick reaction team, the moment that the enemy attack, we're going to be thrown in to help bolster the defence where needed.” She turns to me, “Bastion, you're staying right on my six; I'm going to need you where I can see you so you can do your job, if you need us to move then let me know, are you okay with that?”
I nod quickly as she goes on to describe what she wants everyone else to do. It's a good plan as far as plans go. Essentially it boils down to keeping me alive so I can direct my strikes to hit as needed, keep her section fast and loose to respond to threats as and when they crop up rather than getting bogged down in firefights, and inflict as much damage as we can before we get taken out. That is a plan I can work with, and I have my sights on taking out an enemy chariot or two. It won't be that hard even. This hill is a natural defensive position with excellent unobstructed sight lines across the surrounding terrain. The enemy have to gallop across open ground for a minimum of three hundred metres, in plain sight of our weapons until they're right under the brow of our hill. However there are natural features that make our job a little more difficult. Three hundred metres to the north of the position is a wood, with dense foliage and fairly good cover for an attacker to get into position and lay down covering fire, whilst five hundred metres out to the west is Heartbreak Ridge, a natural ridge that provides excellent cover for somepony to get chariots into position. Chariots, or even gun carriages five hundred metres out could annihilate an infantry company with very little trouble. Still, they're Grenadiers and we're Lunar Guards. They won't stand a bucking chance even if they come with all the airships in Canterlot.
My confidence however is rather swiftly shaken when I ask who's commanding the enemy company. I’ve heard that General Shining Armour has recently got bored with being a prince of polished glass and decided to come back to being a leader of ponies, with his wife's blessing according to Autumn Breeze. I've never worked with Shining Armour but you don't get to be a general at his age unless you've got a clue about what you're doing, even if you're boning one princess and related by blood to another.
Corporal Punishment notices the others looking at each other nervously in response to this bit of unwelcome news and clears her throat.
“Ponies, we're the Lunar Guard, they could come with Celestia herself directing their efforts and we'd still batter them across the plains.” She growls, stamping her hoof to make her point. “We're faster, better trained and better armed than they are, we can-”
WHOOMPH.
The percussive thump of an artillery shell smashing into the ground short of the position makes the earth shake and Corporal Punishment chuckles, before raising her voice, “Right, time for making speeches later bitches, for now we make history!” She gestures with her hoof at the gate that leads out towards Heartbreak Ridge, “We're going to move out, get ourselves established behind the friendly position and await their armour... word is they're going to bring the armour from that side so-” Another shell screams in to detonate inside the walls of Nocturne itself, hurling a great fountain of dust and smoke skywards, interrupting Punishment who scowls but starts to gallop and we follow her out, through the gates and down behind one of the barriers next to the gate.
More artillery shells scream overhead to land among the forward positions, the powerful explosions making our ear-drums ring. However the enemy are not showing themselves, content to let their attached artillery earn their keep. I however have other ideas and with one wing, flick my boom microphone down in front of my muzzle.
“Birch Forward, this is Moonstrike, I'm calling in imminent Troops In Contact.” I have to shout to make myself heard over the barrage, “We're under indirect artillery fire and we suspect contact to be imminent, any assets available?”
“This is Anchor-head calling Moonstrike, looks like you owe me more cider, you alright down there!?” The mare from earlier is still as brash as ever, however I'm no less glad to hear her voice.
“Anchor-head, we’re up to our knees in shit here, I need you to hunt out artillery positions that are shelling my troops, find them and take them out.” I pause, checking my map for friendlies outside our own perimeter, “Your choice ordinance and attack angle, no friendlies nearby.”
“Copy that, I'll start hunting; will get back to you when I've taken them out, Anchor-head out.” With that, I turn to start scanning for further targets, before consulting my aide-memoire. There are three pegasi attack teams assigned to us for this exercise and I've got one on tasking, the other two aren't doing anything but I'm not going to exhaust them yet. I want to keep them in reserve till I need them for GCAS strikes rather than tire the ponies out during the preliminary phases.
The artillery fire continues to rain down upon us for another half hour before ceasing abruptly. I grin, even as my radio squelches. Anchor-head sounds exhausted, but I cannot blame her in the slightest.“Good effect on targets,” She pants. “Three self propelled gun carriages taken down, Anchor-head is RTB to rearm.”
“Copy Anchor-head, meet me after the end of the exercise for that cider,” I say gratefully, even as I hear the distant rumble of chariots drawing closer.
“You can count on it Loonies, Anchor-head out.” With that, my comm frequency goes silent and I smile slightly, glad to have taken the enemy artillery pieces off the field before they could inflict serious damage upon our position. Our mortars are still in reserve until the enemy are in the open, as are our own heavier weapons, such as they are. As the chariots draw closer, I feel my heart start to pound in my ears and my knees begin to shake; my tail twitches as the adrenaline starts to rush at the prospect of a fight. Next to me, Corporal Punishment shifts her hooves irritably as she glances down the line, checking the rest of the section who are likewise looking nervous yet excited at the thought of imminent violence.
“You nervous, Just’?” I ask with a chuckle and she tosses me an evil glare.
“In your dreams Corporal,” she replies snidely, “I just hope you don't kill them all before the rest of us get a turn.”
“Patience is a virtue my young apprentice, trust in Luna and she will provide,” I reply sanctimoniously and she sticks her tongue out at me, blowing a very loud raspberry, then she draws her breath to respond. However before she can do so, a sharp crackle rips through the air as enemy infantry suddenly spring up along the lip of Heartbreak Ridge, firing long bursts of suppressive fire to keep our heads down. They come galloping over the ridge line, hurling smoke as they advance to mask their attack in a thick haze of white smoke. Unlike the forces we made contact with this morning, we don't have any former weather ponies in the company and so the smoke builds in thick heavy curtains. All that we can do is fire our mortars fruitlessly into the smoke, watching the plumes of dirt punch through the cloud of white. I start scanning the smoke cloud for movement, even as the sudden rattling of weapons firing on my right makes it clear that the enemy are behaving as expected: attacking with a two pronged assault and trying to tie us down by engaging two sides simultaneously.
We start to return fire, G-D opening up with his support weapon as other Lunar Guards also start firing into the smoke, long bursts of heavy weapons fire ripping through the clouds of smoke and sending violet tracer rounds leaping upwards as they ricochet off shields or the ground or somepony's armour plating. All the while golden tracers fly right back into our faces, snapping and snarling around our positions. As I start counting tracer and firing points, a rather horrific realisation occurs to me. This thrust is not their main attack, only a platoon at most has been committed to this angle against two of our platoons.
“We need to go,” I say quickly to Corporal Punishment, my voice betraying my nervousness. “The enemy might be attacking on the other flank, they've only got a squad here, one platoon max.”
Punishment nods, her glance letting me know she's been thinking exactly the same thing. Instantly we're rushing to our hooves once more, galloping back through the gate into the camp and turning as quickly as we can. I suddenly hear a shrill howl, like the roar of an incoming train or a howling gale and I throw myself to the floor. I barely have time to yell out “ENEMY AIR!” before the enemy flight team is overhead, swooping low like falcons to come barreling in to strafe our lines. The furious growl of their chain-cannons sounds like the roar of a leviathan at this range and the crack of the rounds slamming into their target rings like the crashing of thunder. We claw ourselves to our hooves and open up with our rifles, firing in vain as the hostile pegasi swiftly climb beyond the range of our weapons.
I frantically start calling in the other two air teams to try and take these guys out, knowing that if Shining Armour has decided to commit air assets then an all out assault will not be far behind. We dash through the base, past the courtyard where the mortar team are punching round after round skywards. I can hear the furious roar of battle all around, voices shouting at other voices even as heavy weapons thump and lighter infantry weapons crackle. The air sparkles with tracers of every colour and the smell of burning ozone hangs thick in the air, along with the chemical stench of the smoke.
As we continue running, the shrill roar of the enemy air picks up again and once more we throw ourselves to our bellies as the enemy pegasi swoop in for a second strafing run, the snarl of their weapons joined by a furious crash as the roof of one of the sheds collapses under the weight of fire. Behind me somepony yells out and in spite of my aching legs, heavy armour and the fact I’m covered from head to hoof in mud and dirt, I’ve never felt so alive.
The enemy air is a problem, however I’m determined to do something about it.
“Birch-Forward, Moonstrike here, we need assets in my overhead right now, I’ve got enemy air on grid niner zero two three one eight!” I bellow into my headset, and I’m rewarded with a quick response from Birch-Forward.
“Assets en route to your position, time to target is zero five mikes, intercept vector two five nine.” Relief spreads through my heart as I leap to my hooves and dash after my comrades in the direction of the gate.
We sprint out the gate to take position opposite the wood line where the enemy are slowly pushing forward from, eschewing smoke in the favour of sheer weight of fire; two heavy repeaters are set up in the wood-line under the cover of shield teams. As I watch, the first shield disintegrates, only for a second unicorn to instantly snap his shield up to take its place. Great, fucking relay shields I think bitterly, knowing that a well drilled team can keep this little stunt going for two hours per unicorn. We don't have six hours to wait for them to get tired and so we start returning fire, adding our own weapons to the two platoons who are already putting fire down on the grenadiers who are carefully putting up shields to cover their assault forward and moving by bounds.
However the one thing they haven't plotted for is about to happen. Our own unicorn stoops down and snatches up a series of pebbles to hold them firmly in her magic. She then hurls them all at once at the advancing infantry-ponies. The infantry’s shields fizzle and die under multiple kinetic impacts and our own guards-ponies rapidly seize the advantage and switch fire, cutting down one section in a withering rain of purple tracer and forcing the remainder to withdraw with heavy casualties, crying foul as they flee.
The gun team however is made of sterner stuff, increasing their rate of fire to force us back into cover whilst their colleagues withdraw, screaming insults as they make it back behind the cover of their guns. Whilst Autumn Breeze is a good shot with her rocks, she can't project them the three hundred metres with the force required to break three shields.
“Where'd you learn that trick?” I ask, astounded and Autumn Breeze grins.
“Magical Theory class,” She replies, panting from the effort. “You throw enough rocks at a shield at once, it overwhelms the shield.”
I nod, understanding it vaguely. It sounds like physics, which is something that all pegasi should have a reasonably good grasp of, gravity being such an influence in our lives. However I don't need to think about it right now, since those two platoons are now setting up positions with their colleagues and have started putting down fire, casting their shields to form an impenetrable shield wall.
Great.
Again, I get that sinking feeling. The enemy have only committed two and a half platoons here, and whilst that is a respectable number for a main offensive, they don't have any armour support and their air will be getting distracted shortly. The timer on my visor is rapidly ticking down, but it still seems to be taking forever. A quick glance skyward tells me that the enemy pegasi are keeping their distance and letting their accuracy suffer as a result. It looks like we have this situation all wrapped up. As famous last words go, those will take some beating.