Strawberry Fields

by Stalliongrad

Chapter 3

Gunshots rang out throughout the battlefield, and artillery explosions roared everywhere. Sometimes in the far distance, sometimes nearby, Eric prayed silently to Boreas in-between his shots that the artillery shells wouldn’t land anywhere near him.

On the other side of the river, Griffonian troops were hastily building pontoon bridges as engineers swaggered forward in cumbersome gear to construct the floating decks. From the forest line, tens of Griffons presented themselves as floating targets attempting to glide across the river rather than risk wading through the river under a rain of machine-gun fire.

The Griffonian Army came like a relentless wave. In a different time period, they would have easily overrun Eric’s fighting position and slaughtered him like a helpless mare.

This is the 11th century, Eric thought to himself as he loaded his karabiner and fired off another shot.

We aren’t using outdated breech-loaded rifles anymore, he continued a steady tempo of gunfire and cycling the bolt on his rifle.

An artillery shell landed perfectly on a pontoon bridge, resulting in a fiery explosion and dismembered body parts raining around everywhere. A nearby machine gun continued its incessant firing, and Eric saw enemy Griffons crash unceremoniously to the ground.

Flying was a natural instinct to Griffons, but it’s difficult to soar gracefully with a rifle, ammunition, and a backpack weighing you down. Few Griffons or even Alicorns could attempt military maneuvers in the air with the weight of combat equipment, merely maintaining flight was already a struggle in itself.

Eric held his breath and squeezed the trigger. His rifle gave off a sharp crack. Across the river, a Griffon crashed into a nearby tree. In the air, a Griffon abandoned the safety and comfort of cover. One had to be either talented at flying or pray that his enemy was a terrible shot.

Eric fired his rifle again, and another Griffon spiraled downwards into the river.

That one didn’t pray enough, he thought to himself.

Suddenly there was a sharp whizzing sound and Eric ducked down into his trench, others weren’t as lucky as he heard the pitched screams of the Griffons around him. Gurgling blood, hysterical wails, and desperate cries for medics filled the sound of Eric’s trench. Boreas, how many of these bastards were there? No matter how many they killed, it seemed like more would swarm out of the forest.

Through the chaos, he could hear the distinctive sound of a whistle being blown, and the chorus of a dozen different Griffons crying out a battle screech.

“For Eros and the Empire! For Kaiser and Griffenheim!”

The corporal screamed Eric’s name though he had no idea from which direction of the trench. Eric skirted quickly through the fortification, making his way to the vacant machine gun position where the gunner was wheezing out what was most likely his last breath. He loaded in the ammo belt and began letting loose a hail of bullets at the approaching Griffons desperately charging through the river.

Griffons screamed and fell into the river. Water sprayed everywhere from the bullets slamming onto its surface, and the blood of the dying swirled easily into the steady river currents. It was odd to think that 5 years ago, he used to play in this river with friends from Winterbell during the summer.

An explosion rang out in a nearby trench, he could feel the dirt rain down on his feathers and screaming from all around him. He felt a pang of guilt that he was thankful it had missed him and hit someone else instead. There was a loud roaring sound in the sky and Eric’s heart sank. He ducked down into the dirt and tried to make himself as small as he could.

Please don’t let this be how I die, Eric thought bitterly to himself.

There was the distinctive noise of machine-gun fire, and Eric could hear the sound of bullets impacting the dirt floor near him. After a moment's reprieve, Eric realized he had been spared from the enemy fighter's strafing run. Others weren’t as lucky, and he could hear them cursing at the enemy aircraft or shrieking out bloody murder.

“What the hell are the Flak teams doing!” somegriffon cried out.

The exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm him, and he could feel the soft soil beckoning him to stay on the floor. It would be so easy to just lay there for-

Suddenly he was yanked up off the ground and thrown onto the trench's walls.

“We’re holding onto this trench, don’t let a single one of their dirty talons step onto Strawberry! Drinks are on me tonight!”

Eric gave a heavy sigh as the corporal rushed through the trench, picking up the dying and yelling at the living. He leaned over towards his machine gun and continued firing, praying to Boreas that he’d survive another day on the Osnabeak Line.