//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Turning The Tide // Story: TCB: A World At War // by mcb893 //------------------------------// The low grumbling of something rolling filled the field. The ponies on the front lines didn’t know what was going on - the noise was entirely foreign to them. An officer called for a scout, sending a pegasus forth into the thick fog covering the field. There was a sharp CRACK, and then silence. The ponies immediately recognised and identified the sound as that of human weaponry, and the battle alarm was sounded. Armoured ponies rushed to the front lines, carrying special crossbows with tips covered in conversion potion. They waited for the soldiers to appear. A large black shape appeared in the distance, growing clearer in the fog. The ponies squinted. What was that? Whatever it was, it was getting closer. While they watched, the ground began to rumble, and the sound of machinery was drawn closer to them. A large, grey machine burst forth from the fog. It was wider than it was tall, and looked like a large rectangle with a smaller one on top. A short tube stuck out of the upper section. A black cap covering a human head stuck out from the top. The human shouted something, before dipping back inside the machine. Below the short tube, a smaller one moved slightly. Without any warning, it started to spit fire. The Royal Guards dived for cover, trying to shield themselves from the hail of lead being thrown at them. A couple didn’t get down in time, the bullets instantly penetrating their soft golden armour like a hot knife through butter. A couple of the conscripts lost their nerve, turning to run. Those that did were instantly ripped to shreds. The officers in the crowd attempted to rally their troops. “Hold steady!” One shouted, calming the nearby ponies, “Fire back!” One of the guards on the line cautiously peeked over the sandbag barrier, bringing his weapon up. The guard next to him looked up. “Are you crazy?!” He shouted over the deafening noise. The pony’s helmet was suddenly knocked off by an unseen force, and the pony dived behind the barrier. Slowly and cautiously this time, he again moved his head above the barrier, trying to ascertain the position of the enemy machine that was wreaking so much havoc. Some movement caught his eye, causing him to turn his head slightly. To his horror, another large, black shape was drawing closer in the fog, stopping in line with the first one. It opened fire, adding to the noise and doubling the number of lethal projectiles. A couple of them impacted near him, causing him to dive down once more. The pony caught sight of his helmet lying in the dirt next to him, perfectly shined except for a clean hole going straight through the top. In his panic and adrenaline, an idea occurred to him. Picking it up, he used his magic to maneuver the armour above the top of the barrier. The hours of polishing had paid off - he could now perfectly see the enemy forces. And there were dozens of the machines. He turned to the pony next to him. “There are more of them!” He shouted in horror. The guard wasn’t listening. His eyes were tightly shut, his ears flattened against his head to protect him from the cacophony of noise. The pony looked back into his improvised mirror, flinching as another hole was torn clean through it. Focusing on one of the machines, he saw the smaller section atop the machine beginning to turn towards him. The small tube sticking out of it slowly started to pitch down, pointing toward him. There was a bright flash, followed by a resounding boom. Then everything went dark. January 29, 1940 London, England “The barrier is halfway across Great Britain now, sir. According to our best estimates, it will be overtop London in just two weeks. I know we have tens of thousands of Irish refugees in the nation, but we need to seriously start to consider evacuation, sir.” Churchill let out a long, loud sigh before speaking. “I guess we can’t delay the issue any longer, can we?” He asked. “Very well. I’ll speak to my ministers about it.” He sighed. “I never like running from a fight, but I guess I don’t have a real choice here.” “Yes, sir. On the French front, the German SS divisions and French infantry have dealt massive casualties against the Equestrians. They think that they’ll be at the coast within two days. They simply can’t stand up to the German armour.” “And our own forces?” “Our armour and infantry divisions have linked up with the German panzer divisions. That would be 220 German and 340 British tanks on the front, sir.” “Good.” Churchill nodded. “How about the Yanks? What are they up to?” “Well, they’re mainly focused on their own defence at the moment. Their army is small, but their recruiting levels have been shooting through the roof, sir. If we manage to break the barrier, they’ll be in on the invasion. Speaking of which, the planners have started to plan the invasion, sir. We’ll need reconnaissance flights of the island, but they’ve started to build a basic template.” “What have they got so far?” “Well, basically, a five pronged attack from either side of the island - three from the east, and two from the west.” “Right.” Churchill sighed once more. “I almost feel sorry for these ponies. Almost. Anything else?” “No sir.” “Well, alright then. Oh, and John?” “Sir?” “Send the Germans my regards.” “Yes, sir.” With a quick salute, he about faced and left the office. January 31, 1940 Fort Lewis, Washington “Let’s go, Avery!” The Lieutenant yelled as the soldier-in-training raced across the sand. Coming to a six foot wall, he grabbed the top and vaulted over. “You think you can stand up in battle? Are you fast? Can you can outrun a pegasus?” Another soldier ran beside him, desperately trying to overtake him. Together, they came to a huge vertical net. Grabbing the ropes, they started to climb to the top. “Let’s GO! The pair behind you is catching up! You can’t let that happen!” Putting his leg over the top of the net wall, he let gravity do most of the work as he climbed down. Losing his grip, slipped, falling the last two meters. “Pick yourself up!” The Lieutenant screamed as Avery scrambled to his feet. Coming to low barbed wire, he got onto the ground and started to crawl under it, avoiding the barbs above him. Coming to a mud filled ditch, he turning perpendicular to it and rolled across. Crossing under the last of the wire, he sprinted for the finish. He crossed it, breathing heavily as he abruptly stopped in the sand. The rest of his company crossed the line in their pairs, all panting and exhausted. “Form up!” Lieutenant Roberts called. The platoon scrambled into three rows, hands behind their back at the position of ease. “Congratulations, first platoon, on breaking the record! You now have the WORST time in the entire REGIMENT!” Roberts called out to the men. “For this achievement, I am rewarding you with fifty pushups! Get on the ground!” The platoon dropped to the ground, moving up and down at the officer’s call. “Sarcastic bastard,” one of the men muttered. “What was that?” The Lieutenant was suddenly leaning over him. “What did you just say?” “Nothing, sir!” The man yelled out. “Good,” Roberts nodded and stood up. “Thanks to Private Rosenshine, you’re doing one hundred pushups instead of fifty! Starting now!” Once complete, the troops fell back into ranks. For a few moments, Lieutenant Roberts merely observed the unit. “Go back to your barracks and change out of your PT gear! You have three minutes! Go!” “Yes sir!” The men turned and sprinted toward their quarters, Avery included. “Avery! On me!” The lieutenant shouted. The private turned toward the officer. “You’re fucked now,” one of the other men muttered. Another wished him luck. Moving to the Lieutenant, Avery tried to keep the apprehension off of his face. “Sir?” He asked. What had he done wrong now?” “Private, you’ve done very well these last few weeks, and it’s abundantly clear that you have leadership ability. Captain Markson has seen fit to promote you. Congratulations, Sergeant Avery. You’ll be taking over First Squad.” Dumbfounded, the newly minted Sergeant shook his officer’s hand. Roberts handed him his badges. “I want these sewn on by tomorrow. Clear?” He asked. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Avery thought he could see the barest hint of a smile on his face. “You have two minutes to change out of PT, Sergeant.” “Yes sir!” He shouted. Turning, he sprinted toward his barracks, a small smile appearing on his face. February 1, 1940 USS North Carolina Two miles west of the Barrier Captain Daniel Carrick observed the glistening purple barrier through his binoculars as his ship turned its guns toward the barrier. Like the HMS Hood had attempted last year, they were attempting a bombardment. Unlike the Hood, however, they had taken steps to ensure that pegasi would not capture the ship. With them were eight other US Navy battleships, all bombarding the barrier and ready to provide air defences. Most important, however, was the USS Enterprise, an aircraft carrier capable of launching a multitude of F4F fighter aircraft. The planes would intercept the ponies at long ranges, holding them back before they could ever get close. Another ship a few hundred meters from them, the USS Colorado, fired the first shot, followed quickly by the South Dakota. As the other battleships opened fire, the Captain picked up his radio. “Fire control. Fire”. One of the North Carolina’s 16 inch gun fired a shell. The eight ships sent an awesome amount of firepower hurtling toward the barrier, explosions going off on the surface of it. After about ten minutes, as expected, a mass of pegasi left the barrier, headed straight toward them. Carrick watched silently as dozens of navy F4F Wildcat fighters headed toward two hundred or so ponies. The planes opened up with their guns, downing many. It was obvious that the pegasi were not expecting such a quick response, and many of them couldn’t react fast enough. As a few broke free of the dogfight, the Captain raised the radio to his mouth. “Machine guns open up. Pick your targets carefully.” The machine guns mounted on the sides of his ship opened up, taking care of the remaining assaulters. Watching as their comrades took heavy casualties, the remainder of the ponies turned tail and fled back toward the barrier. A few miles south of where the bombardment was taking place, near the Lesser Antilles island chain, a substantial fleet made its way north toward the Equestrian barrier. The Admiral in charge looked ahead at the large purple object already visible over the horizon. The man smiled wryly. The Imperial Japanese Navy was joining the war.