Panzerkrieg
“So we’re s’posed to be comfortable around this… big metal beast? Ma’arm?”
Command Sergeant Major Serene Evenings shrugged, Enfield slung over her shoulder, as she and one of the fresh replacements looked over the coal-fired beast idling behind the front lines.
“Suppose so… Private.. Cracker, right?”
“Yes’m, ma’am. Private Fire Cracker.”
“Right. Welcome to C coy. Anyways, Private, I’d suppose so. Aye, they're bloomin’ loud tossers, but they're handy in a pinch- and ruddy good at catching bullets for us. Just… don't stand directly in front of it; their driver’s eyesight is not particularly good.
“Why would anyone stand-” Cracker began, though he was cut off, as Corporal Apple slogged her way over, Storm’s cut-down Enfield held securely in her fingers.
“Howdy, Sarge. Cap Armor wants ta speak with you. Sounds important.” She greeted, as she moved to stand with the two. “Huh. Tanks. S’plains it, alright.”
“Tank? I thought it was a land battleship.”
“Well heck, I dunno. All them crew calls it a tank, and sayin’ tanker’s a lot easier’n sayin’ “land battleshipper”.”
Chuckling, as she let the two banter, Evenings shot Apple a nod, and began making her way back to the command tent, lighting a fresh cigarette as she went. She paused, though, and looked back to the Corporal. “Oh, Corporal?”
“Yes’m?”
“Let Sergeant Yearling know I’ll be late to brief for sentry rotations… and run it down the line we may be advancing, if these bloody big bullet magnets are anything to go by.”
“Yes’m, ma’rm. c’mon, Cracky, let’s get back t’ th’ platoon. We got shootin’ ta do later.”
---
“Sergeant Major Evenings reporting, sah. Charlie Platoon squad lead.” Evenings saluted, smartly, safe to do so within the confines of the command tent, nestled in the fourth line- far enough back to not draw Griffon sniper fire.
Captain Armor nodded, puffing on his own tobacco pipe, officer’s cap resting on his head, the brim cocked to the left side of his horn. “Good timing, Sergeant; that's the whole company present. Lieutenant Trace?”
“Aye, Capt’n?”
“Lay out the map, if you would.” Armor ordered, as he looked over the formerly three-now four, due to reinforcements- Platoon officers. With the exception of D Platoon’s lead, the three veteran Platoon Leaders looked exhausted-mentally and physically, dirty, and wounded in some fashion. Evenings herself had a fresh bandage around her head, where she'd been grazed by a stray round the day before, just visible beneath her flat helmet.
“Right away, Sirrah.” First Lieutenant Fine Trace- a former sketch artist, apparently- nodded, unfurling the hand drawn map across a pair of ammunition crates. The map itself was fairly accurate, having been pieced together by several raiding parties and scouts across the company.
Better than the two years out of date one supplied by the regimental command, at least.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Armor nodded, pausing to address the four Platoon Leads. “Right, as I'm sure a couple of you have noticed, we've gained a few friends from the Royal Equestrian Cavalry Division. As I'm sure you guessed by extension, we’ll be advancing today.”
Leaning further over the map, and gesturing for the Sergeants to do the same, Captain Armor tapped a point across from Mortain Hill. “This is our target. It's a small Prench town called Autry, that the Griffs are using as a lynchpin for the right flank of their first and second trenchline. Our company, supported by Artillery and Landships, is to push down Mortain hill into Autry, and hold the town itself until such a time as the Royal Seventeenth Rifles is able to relieve us. Questions?”
“Expected enemy resistance?” Began one sergeant.
“Expectedly Stormtroopers of the 98th Heer Regiment, and their guns. Possibly Griffon Armour, if we’re unlucky.”
“Enemy artillery support?” Evenings chimed in, looking over the long, open ground running down the hillside.
“Should be concentrated on the Amareicans at Bellau wood, but I'll see if I can pull some howitzers for counter-battery duty.”
“Timetable?” The new Platoon sergeant inquired.
“About two hours. We’ll be awaiting a walking barrage, which we will advance behind. Alpha, Baker, Charlie, you'll be pushing straight for Autry, using the Landships as mobile cover. Dog platoon, you'll be moving staggered behind their Advance as clean up.
“How long until we can expect reinforcements?”
“I don't know. Any more questions?” Waiting several seconds, Captain Armor nodded, curtly. “Dismissed.”
---
“Two hours, eh?” Berry Punch grunted, as she tied her unkempt mane back into a rough, but proper, ponytail. “Bloddy ‘ell. Hope this yonder toon’s worth th’ trubble.”
“You and I both, Corporal Punch. At least we’re the ones with ruddy land ships this time.” Evenings agreed, handing the Corporal back her helmet.
“Ye ken, ah’v never fought wit’ a Landship a’fore.” Berry shrugged. “Th’ crews seem amicable, tho’.”
“Quite. I got to see them fight, briefly. Villers-Bretonneux, back in ‘16.” Sergeant Yearling spoke up from nearby, readying herself for the upcoming advance. “Loud, though.”
“Indeed.” Serene nodded, readily agreeing. “Let's hope they soak up enough bullets. I'm getting damn sick of writing letters home.”
“Thought th’ Captain did that.” Steep Dive- one of the newer replacements- piped up, blinking.
“O-oh, uhm. Sergeant Evenings writes them for uh… our um… platoon.. personally.” Fluttershy, whispered, her voice barely carrying over the constant sporadic skirmisher rifle fire. “I um… think it's nice.”
Evenings, for her part, simply shrugged, giving no explanation, as she changed tacks. “Sergeant Yearling, how's your ammunition for Kicker and Stone Wall’s cranks?”
“Fine for now, Sarge Major. Plenty of spare.”
“Excellent.” Serene sighed, as she stood, adjusting her helmet’s chin strap. “Platoon.” She paused, a scowl crossing her features, as she looked over the grim ponies of Charlie Platoon. “Bayonets!”
---
The artillery began to fall at the allotted time, blasting away at no-pony’s land, as Equestrian and Prench land ships rumbled across pre-prepared bridges, the ponies of the company clambering up their wooden ladders, quickly falling in behind the large lumbering beasts, smoke from their stacks churning out dull-gray exhaust behind them.
The artillery itself did well to blast apart the veritable seas of land mines that comprised both ends of no-pony’s land, as the company advanced slowly, and the Griffon crank gun positions began to come to life, the spraying mud from shells falling back to the ground, some finding itself on the infantry’s shoulders and heads.
Finding herself at the front of the platoon, rifle leveled forward and bayonet gleaming beneath her Enfield’s barrel, a grim and determined look set itself upon Sergeant Evenings’ face, and was mirrored across her entire platoon.
The Griffons’ rounds clattered and plinked off the front of the landships, whose own crank guns and six pounder cannons began blasting away at the first Griffon trenchline, at the outskirts of Autry.
As the unit lumbered forward, the Griffon cranks continued firing, rounds glancing off the large metal beasts. One of the stray glances off the landships ricocheted around the side of the left flank landship, and wedged itself in Corporal Applejack’s lower chest. The Raid Squad Lead, having taken over from Storm, grunted, as Fluttershy slid over whilst Fire Cracker leapt over to carry the wounded mare. Keeping her on her feet and moving forward, whilst Fluttershy began retrieving and bandaging the wound, instructing Cracker to keep moving with the tank, so the three of them didn't get caught out catching any more bullets than necessary.
Serene grit her teeth as she glanced over at the trio, then refocused forward as the company continued inching closer to Griffon lines. The Hebecrêvon battery that was supporting them, upon reaching Griffon lines with it’s barrage, redoubled it’s efforts, hammering shell after shell into the trench line, mud, blood, and other manner of material spraying haphazardly around, the Infantry and landships slogging gamely forward through the muddy mush left behind.
Finally, the landships rolled up and over the Griffon first line, just as the artillery barrage ended, almost as perfectly timed as a ballet, and the Equestrian Company fell into the Griffon trenches.
Serene squeezed off a single shot from her own rifle, as Buck Shot swept his Trench Gun- the quite reliable Amareican M1897 pump-action- across the trench, finger squeezing and holding the trigger, as he racked the pump, each forward and back movement emptying out another shell of buck into the enemy Griffons.
Having fired a shot from the lip of the trench, Evenings quickly followed Buck into the trench, other ponies falling in behind, as Serene thrust forward with her rifle bayonet, impaling a hapless Stormtrooper. The half-dead Griffon screeched in pain and threw a claw across her face, a quick tug back on her part saving her right eye, as he then held fast onto her rifle barrel, refusing to her her remove it.
Swearing vehemently, as she felt her own blood run down her cheek, she let go of the rifle with her right hand, drew her Mannlicher, and emptied two of it’s six shots into the dying soldier, turning away as he writhed his death throes, neatly sidestepping a swing from a makeshift club, as she squeezed off another pair of shots.
Berry and Autumn, meanwhile, stood back to back, having dropped in the midst of a Griffon gun position. Berry swung her rifle-butt upwards, smashing heavily into one Stormtrooper’s chin, and followed up with several rough bayonet thrusts into the downed soldier, as Autumn, screaming at the top of her lungs whilst a Griffon screeched similarly, impaled said enemy on her rifle. She then squeezed off a bullet to kill the skewered enemy, letting the corpse slide off her rifle, as an enemy round streaked by her face, racking her bolt as quickly as she could manage.
Fluttershy froze at the lip of the trench, as a Griffon raised up, rifle staring at the three. Applejack in no position to fire, and Cracker too green to kill as quickly as a seasoned veteran, the demure mare reached down to Applejack’s hip, slid out the cut-down Enfield, and shot the Trooper dead, before replacing it in Applejack’s hip holster. “Quickly, we’ll be safer in the trench.”
“Right- uh, sorry, ma’am.”
“Just keep pressure on that while I finish up the gauze.”
---
“Move the ladders!” Evenings barked, as up the line the rest of the company command did much the same. “Come on you jammy Bast’ds! Keep up with our Fokken tanks! Go! Go!” She threw an arm in the direction of the second trench line and their advancing landships, as the surviving members of her platoon- having lost Stone Wall nearly immediately to a stray ricochet in the same manner of Applejack, and losing Double Down and Wind Chill clearing the first line trench- scrambled to shift the Griffon ladders to face inwards.
As quickly as they could manage, the Platoon scrambled up the ladders and ran to fall in with the tanks again, Roseluck going down with a pained swear as a rifle shot tore through her upper hip. “Fuck me! I'm buggered, Sarge!”
“Back to the trench! Fluttershy’s settin’ up an aid station! Kicker; covering fire!” Autumn, taking command of both her Base of Fire and Double Down’s Assault section, commanded.
“Aye, Sarge!” Kicker barked, as she braced the heavy crank gun against the moving tank, spraying wildly with the gun as Roseluck crawled back and dropped into the trenchline. Seeing her comrade safe, Kicker slipped back behind the slow moving vehicle, as the landship trundled forward towards the second line of trenches, on the outskirts of the far end of town.
The town itself was packed with retreating griffons, and rifle fire cracked and echoed with the staccato bursts of gunfire all over, offset by the far off rumbles of artillery fire and the close roars of tank engines.
As they trundled on, the platoon halted in shock as a Griffon A7V Sturmpanzer trundled around a corner near the middle of town, it’s front mounted cannon blasting away a shot at the lead Mark V landship, which glanced off the lower glacis and dug into the dirt, the Mark V responding in kind with a squarely placed shot from it’s own six pounder cannon.
“Spread out! Spread out now!” Evenings barked over the impressively loud gunfire, snapping off orders as quickly as her mouth would move. “Yearling, button that ‘Panzer! Gun squad move left through these houses! Raiders with Gun Squad!”
“Boff Squad get yer ruddy Cranks firing! Button that landship! Targeting glasses, spotting sights! Keep them off their guns!”
“Gun squad displacing!”
Another massive KLONG filled the air, as a follow up shot from the A7V sunk itself into the frontal Armour of the Mark V, the Equestrian tank smoking around the hole, but still operational, if the return shot was any indication.
Base of Fire Squad’s cranks barked incessantly, plinking constantly off the A7V’s armor, whilst it's own side mounted crank guns twisted and turned, looking for targets.
Again, the two tanks traded gunfire, their cannons nearly deafening in such close quarters. Evenings’ ears rang, her head aching from the reverberating cannon fire, as she and Corporal Punch remained in cover behind the Mark V.
Gun and raid squad had, meanwhile, been leapfrogging up the back alleys parallel to the street they were on, taking up positions in a house looking over the A7V. Serene watched from behind the Mk. V, as one of Gun Squad’s replacements- Silver something- pulled herself out of the second story window, and leapt from the windowsill onto the top of the Griffon tank with an audible clunk, as she laid flat to ward off as much gunfire as possible.
Retrieving a couple hand grenades, the unicorn mare wrenched the top hatch open with her horn, sliding out the grenade pins as she did. For her efforts, she was rewarded with a pistol shot to the chest, her body stiffening as if struck by lightning, before falling over the turret itself, either dead or dying.
Not that it mattered, as the grenades she dropped- apparently into the turret, exploded within the tank, as thick black smoke poured out the back, seconds before the entire vehicle erupted, as ammunition cooked off inside the wrecked vehicle.
“Well this is going brilliantly.” Yearling snarled, from nearby, as her Crank-gunners disassembled their guns.
“Tone, Sergeant; though I do share your sentiments. Casualties!”
“Buck’s knackered. Took a few crank rounds.”
“Silver Song’s dead. Bloody reckless.”
“Fuckin’ ‘ells.” Evenings muttered, as the platoon regrouped, waiting for the Mark V to get moving again.
---
Autry itself was captured in totality without much of a further fight, though the second line trenches were about as bloodily fought over as the first. Of her platoon, Evenings guessed about five- herself included- were still combat capable, most of the others either too wounded, or for seven of her unit, dead.
Having taken up position in a Church near where they'd encountered the Sturmpanzer- miraculously still standing, even after all the cannon fire- Charlie Platoon was holding position in case of counter-attack, whilst casualties from across the company streamed in, the church being the new field hospital for the moment.
Silver Song.
That mare’s name had been Silver Song.
Now just one more letter to write amongst six others of the same kind. Maybe more, depending on how the rest of the day went.
“Howdy, Sarge.” Applejack grunted, visibly pained from her chest wound, as she sat down on a ruined pew next to Serene.
“Howdy yourself, Corporal. Holding up alright?”
“Ayep. Shit luck today, huh?”
“Fairly lousy, aye.” Evenings agreed. “Hope this buggery is worth it. Griffons don't seem to be contesting the attack, at least. We caught a bit of artillery after we cleared the second line, but.. nothing formidable. Thought this place was supposed to be their linchpin.”
“It was, Sergeant.” The Captain replied, walking with a crutch, his leg bandaged and bloodied.
“Captain Armor, sir.”
“At ease, Sergeant, Corporal… Autry was holding their line together, Sergeant Yearling. Seems the griffons were just as battered as we were headin’ into this. They've pulled back to shorten and reorganize their lines.”
“What's that mean for us, Captain? I don't have the pony-power for another Advance. Most of my platoon is here on stretchers.”
“As are the others, yes. We’re standing down, Sergeant.”
“...Sir?”
“Once those of your unit are fit to do so by the medical team, gather your platoon and report to the Company Command Post. We’re rotating back to the rear, then home, after a stop-over in Mareis. We’re on reserve and training duty for the foreseeable future.”
Evenings blinked, her cigarette drooping from her loosely tightened lips, as her brain processed his orders.
“We’re heading back to Equestria.” He finally, absolutely, confirmed.
---
“I no longer care who is “right” nor “justified” in starting this war. Now, my only interest is in finishing it.”
-Attributed to Her Royal Highness,
Princess Luna Solaris