Chapter 45; Panzerkrieg
"Are you sure you want to do this, sir?" One of the crew asked.
"Pretty sure," Rolling Barrel answered. Two days after the meeting with the Griffon officer, he was about to lead the first real combat vehicles any nation on this world had known into major combat.
He looked eastward. Fort Bland (so named during the previous siege because of the "bland" food the soldiers had received there) stood not all that far away.
Wonder what you'd think if you could see me now, dad, he thought, scratching his chin with a hoof. He'd begun the war as a farmer, and was now a general leading troops in combat. He'd seen military technology switch from ancient to what he considered modern in the relative blink of an eye - the eye of time, it felt like. Spears to crossbows to guns, with better guns on the way, muzzle-loading cannons to breech-loaders, heavy siege guns that could blow entire companies to pieces, and cannons designed to shred anything in the air. It was a lot to take in, and he was surprised he'd been able to do so.
"Activating shield," the unicorn in the group said, flipping a switch and feeding the machine with magic. The shield that formed around the tank was more than transparent enough to see through, so visual aiming and driving wouldn't be a problem.
The farmer-turned-soldier took a deep breath. The plan was to break through the defenses and head straight for the city. Scouts had said they believed the enemy troops were all, or at least mostly, on the rim of the line of trenches and forts that surrounded the town. If the Equestrian Army could break through their line here and take the city, those defenses would be fatally compromised; squeezed between the army without and the army within, the only choices were to give up or get out. In the meantime, food could be brought into the city, relieving it of it's starvation issue.
Barrel didn't think the enemy could stop him, short of concentrating all the artillery they had on him. Along with the tanks, a sizable number of regulars and Guards were tagging along, ready to sweep out any resistance. It wasn't as if he was short of artillery either. Of course, this was the first time any nation had deployed proper, powered, armored vehicles in combat. There might well be unforeseen pitfalls ahead. Those could be a problem. Nevertheless, it was also true that combat was never without risks. Here, the commanding general was taking a risk, and the rewards if it came off right could be well worth it.
"Sir, will the ordinary soldiers be able to keep up with us?" the gunner asked.
"They should; it's not like this thing can go twenty miles an hour. Heck, you could pitch it off a thousand-foot tall cliff, and it wouldn't go that fast. It can't even go ten miles an hour as is. Anyone unable to keep up... well, they need more exercise, as far as I'm concerned.
"Hopefully the skirmish formation will work."
"I'm not too sure of that myself." Barrel scratched his chin; his hard hoof caught on a scab. "With more accurate weapons, it might be a very good idea, but we have, for the most part, smoothbore weapons being used by the ground pounders. The whole idea of a line of battle was to maximize your damage against the enemy by concentrating at their own line; that way, at least some of the bullets, or bolts if you were using crossbows, would be sure to hit. This is something we haven't tested yet. We've had skirmish formations before, but not for a main battle line." He looked out of the viewport again. "Then again, against fortifications and entrenchments, a line of battle is just asking for trouble. The Griffons learned that at Fort Nightshade, and we learned it, to a lesser extent, in the battle a week or so ago."
"Please don't remind me, sir; I was in the south, where our advance, for lack of a better word, foundered."
"Sorry." Barrel looked at a clock just below the viewport. "Should be starting just about-"
Before he could finish, a massive, all-powerful roar broke out from the west. A few seconds later, explosions dotted the fort and the breastworks around it. The rising sun illuminated the defenders, who ran around like ants in a kicked nest.
"Are we setting out now, sir?" the driver asked.
"Not yet, Lucky. I have orders to wait a few minutes."
"You want us to load up?" the loader asked.
"Yes, that would be prudent. High explosive; canister isn't going to be effective until we get really close, and any of them that stuck around to fight would be fools in any case."
"Sir, I've been in the artillery since the start of the war; I think I know a little bit about the ordinance I'm supposed to use."
"Sorry," Barrel repeated. "But make sure it's high explosive."
"Got it, sir."
The next several minutes went by as shell after shell blasted the enemy positions. Barrel was surprised by the weight of the barrage before remembering that the general had wanted most of the army's artillery focused on the point where they were going to break through. The enemy probably didn't appreciate the idea. Well, if they hadn't invaded, they wouldn't have had to worry about getting blown to pieces; that was how he saw it, even if part of him was sorry for the necessity. Blind anger and aggression didn't come easily for ponies, which might have been one reason why the enemy had underestimated them. Their loss.
"Get ready to move out," he ordered as the time wound down.
"Sir!"
There was a very loud rumble as the engine started. Barrel could feel himself shaking slightly in his seat from the vibration.
"Ready any time, sir!"
"Alright; bring us up to five miles an hour, Lucky."
"You got it, boss." That wasn't a military grade response, but, coming from a farm himself, Barrel couldn't have cared less.
The tank jerked to life, slowly rumbling out of it's parking position. After a few seconds, the other tank commanders gave their own crews the order to follow.
The bombardment continued as the tanks rolled forward. Barrel found himself tapping is hoof against the console; whatever one could say about these things, they weren't speed demons. He made a mental note to have something done about that.
The vehicle went over a bump, jerking him out of his thoughts. "How are doing?"
"Fine so far, sir."
"Good. Para, you ready to load another round once Gunny fires the first?"
"Ready and waiting, sir."
"Outstanding."
Ahead, a few Griffon pickets, startled, raised their pieces to their shoulders and fired. The rounds simply bounced off the shield. "Fire at will, Gunny."
"Firing!" The cannon fired. A blossom of orange flash and black smoke enveloped a group of the enemy, sending them flying in all directions. The survivors, understandably upset that they could do nothing of consequence to halt the advance, fell back in disarray. No, that wasn't right; they were fleeing for their lives. Other tanks had fired on them, and a few still were; along with the casualties inflicted, it helped to spread the panic.
Their main line's coming up, he reminded himself. These were only pickets, sentries. Even regular soldiers could rout them with relative ease. They have much heavier armament ahead.
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Brigadier General Graywing, of the Highwind Clan, stood on the parapets of Fort Bland. An enchanting name, to say the least, he thought, amused.
"A good mornin' to ya, Clan Leader," a soldier called to him.
"Aye, so it is," the general replied. He wasn't one for sticking to military detail and discipline. His clan fought when he told it to, and fought hard. That as enough. "I hope your family is doing well."
"'Bout as well as could be, given the damn war an' all." The soldier who was speaking hammered on a piece of his matchlock that was out of position. "Me family is doin' well, but... well..."
"May I ask what is the matter?"
"Well... they've found it a mite hard to get as much food as they're used to, sir."
"Because of the blockade, I presume."
"Aye; those wretched Saddle Arabian galleys in our harbors an' blockin' 'em. Not a ship can get in or out, they can't."
Graywing felt something shiver down inside. It was true that the kingdom could produce some food on it's own, but without imports and exports, it would indeed be harder for families to find food. Saddle Arabia's declaration of war had come to the army's attention two days ago; the actual declaration itself had been issued five days prior. With the obvious conclusion that it had been fore-planned. The immediate blockade had been one instance of proof of that last.
"Not like they're starvin' yet, or anywhere close, just a few things like dates an' spices an' condiments that are becomin' a little rare, and the storekeepers have been raising prices for 'em."
"The navy ought to take care of the problem," the general responded. In truth, he wasn't so sure if it would.
The soldier proceeded to make the reason for that lack of confidence quite clear. "We're mountain folk, and so don't have a blasted fleet of our own, otherwise I'd say the thing was in the bag."
"Quite right; having to rely on other clans for our salvation makes me feel uncomfortable." The other Griffon nodded. "I'm also not happy with the King as of now. A lot of Griffons coming back from there tell me that Gryphos feels off from it's usual, happy self."
"The war, sir; too many of our own comin' home in body bags."
"...No. It's something else.... like an air of secrecy. The King has made a lot of unpopular decisions since the start of the... what was that?" Graywing asked, as a massive roar came from the west.
"Get down, Clan Leader; we've heard that not more'n a week before," the other Griffon said, setting down his piece and looking fear toward the west.
Before Graywing had the chance to respond. a series of explosions blasted the fort; the general fell on his side, stunned by the artificial earthquake. He heard someone close by screaming, and needed a minute to realize that it was he doing it. More shells struck, increasing in number, and he decided he didn't care about letting loose his fear for the world to hear. What was the point, when no one could hear him anyway from the explosions?
Time was difficult to tell when one was in fear of his life. Graywing was finally able to raise his head. He checked the watch he carried; only fifteen minutes had passed since the beginning of the bombardment. It had, of course, felt much longer.
"You still here, sir?" called a major from inside the fort.
"Yes, I am." He pulled himself upright. "What's the damage?"
"Not sure yet, sir; I shall endeavor to find out."
"Do so." With a salute, the subordinate officer left.
The general picked up a sound rising from the west. it was growing stronger by the minute.
"What on earth...?"
He looked to the west. Not much could be easily discerned; smoke rose from demolished barricades and wrecked limbers. All of a sudden, he heard the panicked shots of pickets from that direction. He could tell they were panicked; the ragged set of shots fired gave the distinction to him quite readily.
"Sound the call to arms; we're under attack!"
He turned to watch as the garrison scramble - some faster than others - to gather their arms and stand by to repulse the assault.
Graywing squinted. There appeared to be....
A pair of pickets ran toward the fort, dragging the limp body of a comrade between them. "Ready your arms! The ponies are coming!"
"So we've guessed!" Graywing called back. "Come up here and tell me what you've seen!"
He waved a claw to two other soldiers nearby, who nodded and flew down to relieve the pickets of their injured friend, who Graywing was glad to see was still breathing. One of the pickets, panting a little, flew up to meet him. He was worn out; he must have spent most of his energy trying to help carry away the wounded soldier.
"Sir... ponies have... some kind of new weapon," the picket gasped.
"Take a moment to rest, son. That's it. Now, then, tell me, what kind of weapon?"
"Some kind of... metal beast... on giant wheels... they have cannons... Our guns did nothing, shield... Ohhhh!" The picket fell.
"Someone, get me some water!" Graywing ordered. "These scouts need water, at once!" A couple more Griffons came and offered the exhausted pickets some water. A medic came and took a look at the one who had been speaking to the general.
"Sir, they need rest," the medic said. "They're suffering from exhaustion caused by extreme stress put on their wings in a short stretch of time, and whatever they've seen, it's put them into a condition where it would be unwise to force them to do battle."
"Alright, take them to your tent, then."
"Obliged." Calling to two other soldiers, the medic had them lift the soldier and carry him away.
Graywing heard the rumble grow louder. By now, the smoke was clearing a bit. He reached into a pocket on his coat and pulled out a spyglass.
Although still obscured by the remaining smoke, he was able to see more or less clearly. "What in the name of all the gods?" he shouted, greatly surprised at the machine that was slowly chugging toward the fort. It carried an obvious weapon, a cannon, in front, and was propelled by a thin set of catapillars, which were supported by large wheels. It was a little rounded on the sides, and the armor on it sloped a little on the front.
"Hold your fire!" he ordered. "Wait until they get closer before engaging with firearms and crossbows. Artillery, load your pieces and await my orders before firing!"
Griffon soldiers scrambled to do as he ordered.
More of the machines were now visible. They continued, as though oblivious to the situation and confusing they were causing, toward the fort. One of them sported a big Equestrian flag, displaying the Royal Sisters orbiting each other. Graywing nodded grimly. Do they intend to just plow through the fort and continue, as though we are nothing? he wondered.
They weren't going to get through without a fight; of that, he was certain. "Cannons, fire!"
The guns in the fort, as well as those the either side, opened fire. Some were breech-loaders, but the majority were the old muzzle-loaders.
Quite a few shots flew over or to one side or the other of the strange, new machines. Several hit; the general whooped as he saw one of the beasts take a direct hit. Then, looking once more through his spyglass, he saw to his great dismay that the machine was completely untouched; a pink shield flared around the vehicle, then faded as the blast diminished.
None of his crews had successfully destroyed or even hit one of the metal monster, which, having received fire, returned it with a vengeance. Their guns blasted the artillery that had been targeting them; a muzzle-loader took a direct hit, disintegrating the piece and sending the gun part of it flying. It struck two members of the crew, killing them instantly from the impact.
The surviving breech-loaders fired again. This time, the had a little more success; the shields of one machine, pummeled by multiple shells, collapsed. However, the battery targeting it had lost a couple of guns already, and were not able to follow up on their success.
Still, the fact that the shields were collapsible gave Graywing an idea. "All soldiers, concentrate fire on the machine just to the left - our left - of the one with the flag. Bring down it's shield!"
Soldiers - hundreds of them - heard him and started shooting. Dozens of rounds struck the shield of the machine he'd indicated. The shield reverberated with the number of rounds and bolts striking it; it looked for a moment as though it had some form of pox, as smaller, pink flare ups occurred all over it. However, as the soldiers began to reload, however, the shield was still up. The vehicles fired again. More artillery crews were struck down, and cannons broke and fell as blast blew off wheels and pieces of carriages. A limber full of shells exploded, taking three Griffons with it in the blast.
By now, Equestrian soldiers, lopping along with the machines, were close enough to fire their own weapons. Most of their shots struck the trenches and fort walls, but here and there they hit a Griffon. Screams of pain broke out.
The machine Graywing had ordered his soldiers to concentrate on rumbled on, as though absolutely confident that nothing could stop it. It aimed it's gun at the fort.
A shell struck the shield. The pink force field flickered, then died. One of the surviving muzzle-loaders took it's chance and fired. The shell ripped into the monster and exploded somewhere inside. Less than a second later, the stored fuel and ammunition blew up; fire and smoke poured through tears in the armor; what appeared to be the vehicle's cockpit tore off, flying into the air and landing some distance away.
Griffon soldiers cheered as the enemy machine blew up; the gunners who had scored the fatal hit cheered loudest of all. Before Graywing could tell them to quit the act and get back to the fight, five of the vehicles turned on the gun and fired almost simultaneously; the gun was obliterated, along with it's entire crew. The limber for the gun was hit and exploded, sending splinters and pieces of metal flying through the air, striking down several nearby Griffons. That took the heart out of the celebration.
"Clan Leader, most o' our guns've been blown ta pieces, sir," said a voice to hit right. Graywing recognized the soldier from earlier. "Don't see how can face these bleedin' cowards without 'em."
"All the same, we must try, for the honor and defense of our clan."
"Aye, the clan needs protectin'. Don' rightly know 'bout honor, but..." Another massive explosion interrupted him.
By now, most of the defenders' artillery outside of the fort had been silenced. The remaining crew that had a gun to fire were perhaps the wisest of the lot; instead of aiming for one of the metal beasts and undoubtedly bouncing their shot, they loaded canister and fired it into a group of Equestrian soldiers. They didn't live long after that; the vehicles blasted them almost immediately, but not before the canister balls had inflicted casualties.
"Can't bring the guns on the walls to bear on them, sir," one member of a nearby crew said.
"Can you handle it into a position where it can do so?"
"No, sir, and with all the lead they're throwing around, we'd-" A lead ball went through the gunner's head. He fell, without even a look of surprise on his face; death had been that quick.
Graywing watched as the vehicles poured shell after shell into the trenches outside the fort. The crews inside the fort were pulling their pieces away from the walls and down into the center of the fort, where they could be limbered and towed away. He hadn't given an order for it, but after a few seconds of thinking about it, he nodded. The artillery crews had been quicker than he had been.
"Deliver up your arms and surrender!" came a shout from above.
Graywing looked up. A pegasus with a loaded crossbow was hovering over the fort, aiming. Before Graywing could respond, the pony was tackled by a flying Griffon.
"You'll have to take my head before I surrender!" Graywing roared back. All the same, as he watched the fight, it was obvious that it was a losing battle; the iron monsters gave the ponies the advantage, even though the number of regular soldiers wasn't as many as it might have been otherwise.
"Retreat," he growled, disgusted. Then, as he realized no one had heard him, he yelled, "Retreat! Back to the city!"
Those who could hear him hastened to obey. The enemy had ripped the heart out of the defense by wrecking their artillery, and without any other way to disable or destroy the attacking machines, the regular Griffon forces were outmatched. Graywing knew they weren't cowards and would fight again, but for now, the tide of battle was against them. Graywing could not, in good conscience, force them to battle when they had no chance of winning.
We'll make a stand elsewhere, he promised himself. For now, we have to get out of here.
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Barrel winced as he looked over at the tank that had been destroyed in the assault. Even without searching it, he knew the crew had died with their machine.
That could have been us.
He shook his head. It hadn't happened to him, and he had a duty to fulfill.
Most of the enemy had had enough. Griffon soldiers were drawing out of their trenches and falling back as fast as wings and legs could carry them. They weren't a disorderly mob; most still held their weapons. However, he could almost sense the panic they must have been feeling by this point. Pegasi began swarming the fort itself, taking shots at the defenders and fighting the enemy hoof-to-claw in a few places, their wings giving them easy access to the fort.
A pegasus not busy fighting on the walls swooped down and knocked on the tank's shield with his hoof. Barrel moved to the hatch, opened it, and stuck his head out.
"General, the enemy are in full retreat!"
"That's what I want to hear. Good work!" Both of them were shouting in order to overcome the nose raised by the tanks' engines. "Continue your pursuit; take as many as you can before they get out of reach!"
The pegasus saluted and flew off.
"Alright," Barrel said as he came back inside and closed the hatch. "Keep up the advance."
"Sir, we won't be able to keep up with the rest of our boys if they keep up that pace," Lucky Day, the driver, warned.
"I'm afraid it can't be helped, Lucky. Just get us as far as you can."
"Right."
Lucky took them forward. As they lumbered over a trench, Barrel was half-afraid that the ground would give away underneath them, or that the tank would get stuck. His fears proved unfounded, at least at the moment; the tank successfully rolled over the trench without any difficulties.
Behind the fort, there was little but open ground... and retreating Griffons, who were hauling away what they could, including cannons.
"Think you can score a hit here, Gunny?"
"Might be able to," the gunner answered back.
"Fire at will."
The cannon roared. A few seconds later, one of the retreating cannons was hit; the carriage collapsed and the gun crashed to the ground.
Barrel whooped. "That's giving it to 'em!" He doubted the enemy had anything that could stop him right here and now, nothing close.
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James watched as the tanks rolled forward. He felt some satisfaction as the defenders were handily routed.
"Anything wrong, sir?" Crystal Clear asked.
"Nothing of the sort, Lieutenant." James lowered his binoculars. "In fact, quite the opposite. The assault is succeeding quite well so far."
"Mind if I have a look, sir?"
James gave him the binoculars. Again, he reflected how odd it looked for the bottom of the pony's hard, flat hoof to somehow latch onto the thing.
"...I can't find anything to contradict you, General," Crystal said as he lowered the binoculars after fifteen seconds or so. "Will the Fifth Brigade have to go in, considering the success of our frontal assault?"
"The Fifth and the rest of the division, as well as the one on the other side of the advance. We have to prevent the enemy from coming down on the flanks of Barrel's command. I say we go, now."
"As you wish, sir. If you need a lift, I can do that, too."
"I don't want you to feel encumbered."
"I don't feel put upon, sir."
"Alright, then." Crystal stood stock still as James got on his back. "Fifth Brigade, forward!"
The soldiers behind them began moving. There were thousands of them, four regiments worth, or about four thousand altogether, discounting battle losses and illness, which fortunately wasn't as much of an issue as it might have been; Equestrian technology, while critically behind military-wise, was more than up to the challenge of fighting disease.
However, after the surprise in the previous battle, James wasn't going to assume that nothing could stop him. He'd made that mistake twice. He wasn't going to do it again if he could remember the lesson. "Keep a good eye out, and be careful; your families, your people, and your country need you!"
He got a resounding cheer. He wasn't sure why; he'd just reminded them they might well die in the next while.
Crystal began to trot forward. "It doesn't seem to bother you that you have no weapon," James noted. "And I thought aides de camp were meant to remain-"
"I am a loyal member of the Royal Guard. I have a duty to their Majesties and to Equestria. I serve, as we're all doing. I'm not the best fighter, but another soldier in the ranks isn't the worst thing ever for an army. And as for weapons... I'm sure I can find something that's been discarded."
James grunted in reply. Crystal was all too right about that. Discarded weapons were all too easy to find on a battlefield. "I hope they don't mind that I'm riding on your back," he said, trying to change the subject. "Considering we're fighting for the continued freedom of Equestria, they mind see it as, well..."
"I understand. Believe me, though, I'm sure most of them understand that you need an extra pair of legs to get you around quickly. Equestria is a land where most of the population is used to supporting one another anyway; it's nothing all that out of the ordinary."
"...Alright, then." James quickly checked his revolver. It was properly loaded. Replacing it, he inspected his sword, drawing it a little out of it's scabbard. It looked sharp enough for the battle ahead.
"All the same, could use..." he muttered. "Crystal, is there a spear I could get with an edge more like a sword, rather than just a point meant for thrusting?"
"A sword-staff, you mean?"
"Yes, something like that."
"I'm not sure. You could ask one of the camp's smiths to forge something of that sort for you. I doubt you'll have the time in the next few hours to ask one of them, though."
"I know." He took a look at the ground up ahead. The enemy seemed to be mostly watching the fighting off to their left - James' right - and almost appeared to be unconcerned with an attack to their immediate front. Some - many, actually - were moving deliberately toward it.
"How long will the illusion last?" James asked quietly.
"The spell they're using to mask out approach is one that requires very great concentration, and it's the kind that's more difficult to hold the longer it moves away from it's caster."
"And as a pegasus you would know this how...?"
"I talked to the unicorns performing the spell. That's what they said."
"Ah. At least we're invisible to the enemy now. And what exactly prevents every unicorn in the army from performing it?"
"Most unicorns aren't as skilled with military magic as they were maybe two thousand years ago. I've read that they had even more powerful illusion spells than this. For now, we are indeed invisible, at least from the front. How long that will last..."
Griffon soldiers continued to rush toward the battle in the south. So far, the illusion was working...
Then, suddenly, a Griffon officer pointed at a soldier not far away. He began gesturing to his own troops, then suddenly stopped, claw still pointing at the Equestrian soldier, as though an entire army had made itself visible to him at once. James couldn't help an amused smirk.
By now, the brigade was well within range of the defenses. the Equestrians stopped, leveled their guns, and fired. A ripple of lead balls tore through the defenders. The majority slammed into the earthen ramparts, but some - a fair number - struck flesh.
"Charge!"
The ponies dropped their guns, drew swords and spears, and rushed the Griffons as fast as they could go.
The enemy, shocked by the sudden appearance of hundreds of it's foes and further demoralized by the burst of fire that force had leveled against it, were stunned by the surprise. Nonetheless, some of them recovered fast enough to use their own weapons. Scattered Griffons fired crossbows and matchlocks at the oncoming attackers, here and there, a scream of pain or a muffled thump marked the place where a soldier fell.
It wasn't anywhere near enough to stop the Equestrian army. James began to reach for his sword as Crystal jumped over the trench...
Out of nowhere the butt of a matchlock struck James in the chest as Crystal was in the air over the trench; he fell off backwards, his back protesting strongly as he slammed into the dirt there.
The Griffon who had hit him raised the matchlock for another clubbing blow. James did the only thing he could think off; finish unsheathing his sword, which successfully blocked the strike, but the Griffon continued to press against it, sensing weakness. James kicked him in the crotch, which made the enemy double up in pain and drop his own weapon.
Not my preferred way to fight, but a bit better than being dead. He stood up as quickly as he could, though the suddenness of being so rudely dismounted and slammed to the ground made his head swim.
A second Griffon thrust a spear at him, but it never reached it's target; a brown glow covered the spear and deflected it from it's intended course. Someone shouted; a spear of Equestrian make struck the Griffon in the chest. He fell with a loud scream.
James turned to see a brown-coated unicorn stallion there. "Thanks."
The soldier didn't seem to hear him. "Give up, Griffon bastards! You're outnumbered!"
"Urrrrrgh..." The Griffon James had kicked got up slowly.
James raised his sword so that the point of it was at the enemy soldier's neck. "I'd surrender, if I were you," he advised."
The enemy frowned, but his eyes quickly shifted back to the sword when James gave it a little shake to remind him he was there. "I suppose it would be prudent to surrender," he said, a very youthful British accent marking his voice.
Damn, this guy's a kid. "Good." James lowered his sword, and was gratified when the enemy soldier didn't try anything. He couldn't help but feel admiration that such a young foe had fought so well. "You'll at least have food, drink, and shelter as you sit out the war; the basic amenities." He looked around. On both sides of him, the fight was going well for the Equestrians. "Sergeant," he said to the unicorn, noting his rank by the stripes on his shoulder, "take all prisoners into custody. Make sure they receive whatever treatment for their wounds they need, and lead them to the area we're keeping prisoners for now."
"Sir. Alright, you lug, get moving."
"Yes sir." Now a prisoner, the enemy soldier didn't look ashamed to show he was a little afraid. "Thanks you for sparing me," he said to James.
"I wish I could spare every one. Sorry about the kick." James lifted himself up out of the trench and grabbed a matchlock from a fallen Griffon soldier. There was more fighting to be done, and it wasn't going to be won by just standing around exchanging pleasantries.
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Grayfeather watched the fight from the tallest tower in Trottingham, near the center of the town. Fort Bland had fallen surprisingly fast. He could make out square-looking objects from here, as well as soldiers, both his own and his enemy's, but little else.
All he knew for certain was that Graywing's force was in retreat. He set down the spyglass angrily. "Can't I trust one of my subordinates to do something right?" he thundered.
"A messenger, sir," one of his aides told him.
"I can see him," the general said as the incoming Griffon came in and landed. "Well?"
"Sir, Graywing's compliments, and he says he is sorry he was unable to halt the enemy."
"I should damned well think so! What happened?"
"Big bombardment, then the Equestrian's hit us with these iron mechanical monsters of some sort. They have shields, magic, I'd say, that keeps out bullets and shells."
Grayfeather looked back at the battlefield, which was over a mile away. "Is that what those box things are?"
"I'd say so, yes, sir. They have cannons. Blasted us to pieces in minutes."
"Did you get any of them?"
"Might have got one, sir. I wasn't around to see much after Graywing gave the order to retreat." The Griffon looked tired, and stared through the commanding general. "Sir, he requests whatever artillery you can spare to stop them. He says he's under pressure."
"Under pressure indeed!" Grayfeather knew he'd misjudged Graywing, but unless he took charge now, a simple misjudge of character and courage wouldn't matter. He turned to the aide who had spoken before. "Do as he says. Bring forward what artillery we have."
"Might not be feasible, sir," the other aide said
"What!?"
The aide pointed. "I think they've begun another attack to the south and north of the fort, sir. I don't think we can spare those cannons."
Grayfeather picked up his spyglass again. "Indeed," he murmured unhappily. "Can't take cannons from the adjacent forces. That leaves the reserves. And our special unit."
"You mean...?"
"Yes, we'll be throwing them in. They know what the deal is. And if they don't get the job done... well, better than sacrificing our own, now, isn't it?"
"Will they fight, sir?"
"Oh, they'll do so, or else suffer our wrath, and their families will starve." He lowered the spyglass. "Our other reserves are armed with new weapons of their own. They might be able to turn the tide in any event."
"Sir." Grayfeather watched him leave, then went back to monitoring the fight.
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Barrel watched as Griffon forces continued to fall back. Here and there, a unit that had gotten it's courage up would try to make a stand. Whenever they did, though, they regretted it. Their weapons were only of threat to common soldiers, and while a few Equestrians became casualties from each stand, the Griffons and their mercenaries suffered much more than their foes did. Without cannons, they couldn't hope to do much more than delay the ponies for more than a few minutes.
"Keep going! We've got them!" he shouted.
The other tank crews wouldn't be able to hear him, but they would follow his tank. As long as he kept moving forward, they would keep going as well.
More Griffons came forward, from the direction of the city itself. They stopped well out of matchlock range. Barrel felt some slight contempt. Were these troops so new that they didn't even know the range of their own weapons?
The next few seconds gave him his answer. The front rank of the enemy force went to their knees, and both lines fired... something. Beams flew from their weapons, beams of all sorts of colors, beams that hit several of his soldiers and sent them sprawling.
"What the...?"
The enemy didn't pause to reload, either; those guns that weren't guns kept shooting. His own troops, out of range, either went to ground or were hit and sent there.
Several beams hit the shield, but to his relief, none broke through. That was something in his favor, then.
"Stop!" he ordered. "Gunny, shell them!"
"Yes sir!"
A moment later, the gun roared. The shell flew just over the Griffons and blew up in the woods behind them. Barrel thumped his hoof against the tank in frustration, but the tank to their left succeeded where his own had not, landing a shell in the center of the line; Griffon solders went flying. The rest continued to fire their strange weapons.
"Forward!"
The tank began to move again. His own soldiers followed, but at a belly-to-the-ground crawl. The Griffon fire was intense; beams seemed to be coming every time a Griffon pulled the trigger.
Okay. They have a weapon can halt our soldiers. Let's see them stop these. "Full speed ahead, Lucky. If we have to run them over, we will."
"Uh, yes sir."
Barrel looked at the line ahead. There didn't seem to be any cannons, or any kind of artillery, among the enemy, so he didn't have to worry about that.
In the meantime, with fewer targets among the unprotected soldiers, the enemy had been increasing their fire against the tanks. He hadn't thought much of it, until the unicorn in his crew, a white one called Pale Lightning, shouted, "Sir, our shield is about to collapse!"
"What? Really?"
That question was answered as the shield suddenly broke.
"Give it more energy!"
"Yes sir!" A second later, there was a burst of light, and the shield reformed around the tank. A number of beams had hit the tank, but had failed to penetrate the armor. Lucky for us.
Other tanks on the move had kept up the fire. It wasn't anywhere close to accurate, but they inflicted casualties and messed up the enemy's line of battle, which benefitted the Equestrian army. Griffon soldiers fell, some thrown like dolls from the exploding shells, others falling straight to the ground. Their fire began to slacken off a bit as Griffons were killed or wounded. Barrel's own gunner continued to fire, blasting away at targets of opportunity.
Before long, the enemy began showing signs of wavering. Their troops were looking back and forth between their officers and the field, as if willing the commanders to order a retreat. In addition, some of the Equestrian soldiers had gotten close enough to fire their weapons. Although it wasn't much, it added to the damage being done by the tanks' cannons.
A Griffon officer waved his sword at the oncoming tanks. One of his subordinates said something to him, only to be shouted down. A moment later, the officer clutched his chest and fell over backward. Another officer, apparently wiser than the first, waved his sword as well, but in a gesture that was obviously commanding a retreat. By now, with Barrel's tanks now closing in, none of the Griffons was in any position- or disposition - to disobey. They withdrew orderly, but with a sense of growing panic.
Barrel's tanks followed them, crashing through the woods and continuing their forward momentum. He got a quick look at one of the discarded weapons the enemy had been using; it looked like a gun, save that the thing appeared to be made of wood, with the exception of a large crystal ball fastened on where the firelock mechanism would have been. It had a trigger, to be certain, but there was also a trigger guard, so a pony would be unable to use one, or at least, pegasi and earth ponies wouldn't be.
Just looking at it made him feel uneasy. Something was just wrong about it, but he couldn't put his hoof on it.
He put the matter out of his mind. The enemy were falling back before him, and the town would soon be in sight. He was concerned with possibly having to fight in a city; James had made it clear that tanks didn't do well there, as well as giving compelling reasons for why that was so. But with a massive hole torn in their lines, the army could easy outflank and capture the remaining defenders. If the Griffons didn't pull back, they would be in big trouble.
A different pegasus than the one before tapped the shield. Barrel again opened the hatch and stuck his head out to listen.
"Sir, there's a group of ponies coming toward us from the city."
"What? Are you sure? What about the Griffons?"
"Might have seen one or two of them with 'em. Can't say for what reason; they were pretty far off when I saw 'em."
"Could there have been an uprising in Trottingham?" Barrel asked himself. "Might be... but how foolish... In that case, we have to hurry..."
He'd been speaking under his breath; with the noise from the engine and smashed foliage, the pegasus had had no chance to hear him. The scout put a hoof next to his ear.
"It's nothing," Barrel said loudly. "Just get a better look, then come back."
The scout saluted, and flew away.
"Give me all you've got, Lucky, even if it breaks the engine; we have to reach the town, now!"
"Yes sir!"
Barrel felt the vehicle speed up. He could also hear the engine whine in protest. Well, that was too bad. If the townsponies had been foolish enough to launch an uprising, he had to get to the town before the Griffons could issue reprisals of any sort.
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Grayfeather set down his spyglass and rubbed his temples. This fight was going poorly; even with their new weapons - called magical repeaters, crystal rods, and magic guns by the troops - they had been unable to halt the advance. Already, outlying forts and trenches were being outflanked.
"Order the forces to the north and south of the breach to withdraw. Have them meet up here and here," he added, pointing to two areas on the map just to the west of the city.
"Yes sir." An aide saluted and left.
"Are our new recruits entering the battle?"
"Yes sir. They should be making contact with the enemy at any time."
"Good. No need to waste our own blood if we don't have to." He sat down in a chair nearby, the sounds of distant battle reaching his ears. "We'll need every resource we have to hold them back."
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Barrel could see the city by now; houses, shops, and other big buildings were now easy to see.
"I can see something coming at us, sir," the gunner shouted.
Barrel had seen it, too; a line of ponies, hundreds, quite possibly a thousand or so, in brown and green uniforms were marching toward him. He could see several Griffons with them, as well as a line of the birdlike enemy behind them. To his confusion, the avian aggressors didn't appear to be prisoners, but were acting almost as if they were running the show. He could make out some of the ponies' faces. They didn't look happy; in fact, they looked downright miserable.
Almost as if...
"No... They wouldn't have done that," he said, trying to deny it. Yet it was undeniable. These ponies had been coerced, one way or the other, to fight for the Griffon cause.
"Those bastards are forcing our people to fight against us!" he heard the gunner shout.
The rest of the crew gasped, then shouted angry things of their own, none of them complimentary and most of them unprintable.
"Enough!" Barrel yelled. "Stop acting like a bunch of school colts and start acting like soldiers!"
"But-but we can't fight our own people, General!" Lucky stammered.
"...I know." He slumped down in his seat. He was truly at odds at what to do. He could not in good conscience open fire on his own people, especially as they obviously weren't doing it of their own free will. "Full stop," he said finally.
"Yes sir," Lucky answered sadly.
The tank stopped. Upon seeing their leader halting, the other tanks did likewise, as did the soldiers alongside them. The entire spearhead stopped in confusion and dismay.
Barrel picked up a spyglass and aimed it at the Griffon officer who seemed to be in charge. He could see an arrogant, malevolent smirk form on the officer's face. The Griffon raised a sword, clearly ordering his troops to open fire.
"What do we do, sir?" Parallel Lines, the loader, asked, sounding very worried.
"Nothing yet. Let's wait and see what happens."
The ponies ahead hadn't fired, though some raised their weapons, which mostly consisted of matchlocks and guns of a design he hadn't seen yet. After a few seconds, the officer in charge shouted at one of the ponies near him. The pony responded, whereupon the officer attacked him with the sword, sending him falling face first to the dirt. Another pony, behind the officer, angrily lifted his own gun to shoot him in the back, but was cut down by the shot of one of the Griffons behind the line.
What happened next warmed the hearts of Barrel and his soldiers. The pony regiment, enraged by the shooting of two of it's members by their supposed leaders, turned their guns on their officers. The Griffon behind them - obviously there to keep order and force them to do as the Griffons wanted - fired on them, but couldn't stop them from attacking the officers sent to force them into battle. The Griffon officers fell, some blasted by dozens of shots, others were clubbed, kicked, and punched down and beaten on the ground. After dealing with the officers, the ponies reloaded and aimed at their oppressors.
"Full speed, Lucky! We have to help them!"
"Yes, sir!" Lucky yelled back willfully.
It was obvious the pony troops ahead had no training; they fired ragged volleys, if they bothered using any sort of volley fire at all, and they didn't bother to use what cover there was. However, they were fighting with a rage that the Equestrian army lacked. If they couldn't meet the enemy with equal training and experience, they were making up for it in numbers and anger.
Soon enough, the tanks were able to add their fire to the battle; without cannons, and with only perhaps a company's worth of troops to begin with, the Griffons suffered badly from the fire; they withdrew after only a couple minutes. Most of their contingent had been felled, and the survivors were fleeing in fear of their former charges.
"Keep going, Lucky! They made a big mistake here, and they're going to regret it big time!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you certain of this?" Grayfeather asked, trying hard not to show the panic he felt inside.
"Yes, General. The pony troops we conscripted revolted when we ordered them to fire. They turned on their officers and killed them all."
"All?"
"Yes sir, I fear all have been slain. And of course, the traitors were joined by their brethren across the way."
"That means there are no fresh troops between the enemy and the town," the general said, panic kindling quickly. "Take the families of the traitors into custody, and repossess their property."
Before the aide could leave, another Griffon flew into the tower. "Sir, the forts to the north and south of the breach have fallen."
Grayfeather grimaced. That meant that the enemy had a clear shot at getting into the city, if if they took the town, they could readily outflank his remaining defenses.
He could fight in the town. Force the enemy to regain his city one ruined building at a time. But after a few seconds, he shook his head. That wouldn't work; the enemy had a larger force, and could afford to surround him. If his army was destroyed, the war was as good as lost. His Majesty wanted the city, but his cause wouldn't survive without the army to back it up. True, he could delay the enemy; they would be worried about the welfare of their fellow ponies in the city. However, that wouldn't mean he wouldn't be trapped.
With a heavy sigh, and wishing he were giving almost any other order, he rasped, "Order a retreat out of the town, and out of the remaining fortifications."
"Sir?"
"We'll make another stand elsewhere. Do it!"
"Sir!"
Grayfeather watched him go. Then, turning to the rest of his staff, he barked, "Well? Why are you all just standing around? Get everything packed and ready for departure!"
He turned back and looked at the battlefield one more time. He could make out enemy soldiers closing in on the town. More than a few of them wore the brown and green coats that had marked the police that the kingdom had recruited to maintain order in the town and, more recently, been it's first soldiers conscripted from the conquered population. It hadn't been an idea that worked, but still, he felt it had been an experiment worth trying.
He realized his army wouldn't have time to arrest and take with them the families of the pony soldiers they'd conscripted. He scratched the wooden support next to him. He couldn't have everything. Saving his army was ultimately more important than punishing traitors.
He snarled, then scratched the wood with both sets of fore-claws. He couldn't see how the kingdom could pull back from this defeat. He shook himself mentally; he was going to win in the end, no matter what the enemy threw at him.
The cost, though, the cost was growing...
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"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes, General. The enemy are withdrawing from the town, en masse."
"Hmmm." Barrel scratched his chin. "Could be a trap of some sort."
"Not likely, sir," the pegasus answered. "They're dragging along about everything military they have with them."
"Were they carrying any loot with them?"
"Like stuff they stole? If they were carrying that stuff with them, I didn't see it."
"Alright, then. Have our soldiers enter the town and make sure there aren't any traps set for us."
"Yes sir."
Barrel could barely conceal his excitement. The town was theirs for the taking. "Full speed ahead, Lucky."
"We're going into the town?"
"No, we're going to skirt around the sides of it. We'll continue the pursuit." Hearing a disappointed sigh, he chuckled. "I know, victory parade, mares kissing you all over the place, free drinks and food, I'm with you on that. But we have to keep on the enemy now that we've got them where we want them. I don't want to have to fight them later if I can smash them now."
"Do you think we can do it?"
"Not if they fall back quickly, but we've got to try. We'll do what we can."
"Alright General, but I'm going to miss that celebration."
Barrel couldn't control his laughter as the tank plowed on.
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James thrust his sword into the ground in an effort to wipe it clean. Then he leaned on a short old tree to his left. It had been a tiring three hours of battle. His army was exhausted, as he was himself. Many units had fired off all their available ammunition and were stopped in order to receive more.
He still felt a sense of joy when the pegasus messenger brought him news of the enemy's retreat. "They're coming out of their forts and trenches and going east, General. I think it's for real."
"Well, good." James pulled his sword from the ground, which, though dirt and dust now clung to it, was otherwise mostly clean. "If they can, have our force continue the attack, if the commanders feel that their troops are in condition to follow."
"Yes sir." The pegasus turned to fly away, then paused and looked back at him. "Uh, what if those troops aren't in condition to go on?"
"Then we'll rest. I'd rather keep on them if I can, but if I can't, then there's no fault for not being able to and no point hurting ourselves trying. In that case, we'll stop for a while to rest and resupply, then pursue."
"Got it." This time, the pegasus did fly off.
James sat down under the tree. He had his doubts his army, after hours of almost non-stop fighting and moving, could actually pursue, but if it was possible, he'd try.
How many more soldiers are you responsible for killing, on our side and theirs? asked a voice inside him. How many could you have saved if you'd just starved out the town, or done something else?
I don't know. What I do know is, we lost too many, or at least more than I can immediately, and we won the town back. He half sighed, half panted. He'd gone through another fight, and for some reason hadn't died, or even been seriously injured, at least not to his knowledge.
"Thank God," he gasped. The army had won again. Now he, and everyone else, would see what would happen because of it.
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Noticed you changed one of the chapters.
I wonder what's let in the griffons?
4622172 ? I don't know what you mean. They took the city after the Equestrians had to retreat a month or two beforehand.
Just saying, instead of the line of hyphens, type "[ hr ]" without the spaces. It always fits the screen.
Also, there were... a lot of mistakes. Do you have an editor for this? If not, please do get one; it's depressing as an editor myself to see a fic as otherwise amazing as this have so many mistakes in it.
Anyway, besides that, nice! I liked the revolt by the coerced ponies, and the gryphons thinking that arming ponies and threatening to kill their families was a good idea. Silly bird-lions.
The battle was actually believable, unlike quite a few other fics out there. The strategy was sound and didn't rely on knowledge they couldn't have. Well done.
The reaction to the tanks was less "what the f
k is that" that what I expected, but still credible.
Lastly, why's it take so long? Just busy with real life, as opposed to this virtual fantasy?
4622252 Partly games, as well as the fear that people won't like what I write
, as well as other things. I didn't notice errors in this chapter myself, but apparently there are, sorry about that 
. I'll end up editing at some point.
Anyway, thanks for your support!
I worked hard on the battle scenes. True, the enemy weren't running for their lives at the first sight of the tanks, but then, they're soldiers. Their first response when hit is to strike back (kinda hurt them here). And, as others have said, ponies at least have knowledge of tanks (Rainbow comments on it in the pet episode, as well as mentioning bullets), so the idea of a machine like those descripted might not be completely unexpected, though still a shock to anyone hit by them.
4622328 Ah, fair enough. Mind, I didn't mean fear, just "what sort of demon-creature is that?!" which, of course, the gryphons would shoot at. Because why not pray it's painted paper and not really armor?
This chapter also made me want to see an Abrams or Merkava tank there. Rolling casually along at a fast canter, with armor that barely takes a dent from their cannons and a a big gun that can aim and a little one that slaughters everything within fifty meters. Plus night vision, targeting computer, and (with a unicorn) magical shields... Yeah, so long, gryphons.
Oh, I forgot! If you'd not mind, I'd be glad -- or at least willing -- to edit this with/for you.
4622371 Ah. That would be nice indeed. I suppose I should start trusting people to do that sometime. Just as long as you only edited and didn't change the wording (unless it was exceptionally bad, like trollish bad), I don't want my fics to be griefed.
4622406 Considering, uh... One sec, lemme count.
Eight! Eight people trust me to edit their stories -- some just saying "make it better", which is fun, and others just wanting outright errors fixed, which has the zen bliss of paperwork -- so I think you can trust me. To some extent, at least.
Shall we continue via PM? Or do you not mind this fluttering your story comments?
4622431 Okay, that's fine, can continue by PMs. Sorry for offending you
4622443 No, you didn't offend. It's as common as you'd think for people to not trust random strangers with their work.
4622464 Alright, then. See you in PM.
This is an excellent chapter, sir. If I may be so bold as to say, I can't help but imagine that Barrel is going to end up like Patton, in fact I imagine he sounds like George C. Scott every now and then.
Keep up the good work.
4622540 Glad someone saw that coming. Yes, I intended him to become a great tank commander. He's doing a good job so far. And thanks for the compliment!
So...Griffon have new weapon. Time to confisticate, research and improve!
Although, the A7V tank isn't exactly the best...it did its job.
And I recommend they quickly improve their tank or they will be destroy by the freaking heavy cannons. Same goes for rifle...They should improve it to semi-auto level. Like the Garand or SKS or even Dragunov.
4623791 Okay, thanks for at least reading it, and I'm glad you seem to like it!
4623847 Well there aren't many stories like this out there... Those that are somewhat alike are abandoned...
4623852 Well, I try to hang on to the end. I doubt that will be soon in any case.
Should be his
4624429 Aw nuts. I wish the system would alert me to mistakes like that. >.<
4626939 Thanks!
*noticing the chapter's title*
March!
The Ost brigade?
(If you know the song played there I'll give you a cookie)
But does it really worth it?
4628935
4629787 However, although this new chapter is AWESOME, I still expect something.... more
The 2nd Battle of Nottingham(Trottingham) reminds me of the Battle of Bir Hakeim but I still expect something like the Battle of Austerlitz or Battle of Fontenoy or Battle of Narva(1700) or Battle of Agincourt. (Almost) All of the victory that James had achieved are all tactical victory and both sides still capable of waging war and no decisive strategic victory. Or at least make James outnumbered like Napoleon did in Austerlitz and defeat the Griffon like he did.
4629787 Or a standoff like in the Battle of Camarón where 65 French Légion Étrangère fought against 800 Mexican cavalry and 2,200 Mexican infantry
you NEVER march in front of a formation of unwilling soldiers
Enemy at the gates and 40k had it right, if there's something deadly/scary up front put something deadlier/scarier down back
4630440 Yes, I'm aware it isn't decisive in and of itself, but then this story would be too short if I just knocked out the bad guys' armies in one battle.
4630737 A nasty business, that. Sorry for little mistakes like that. It's been a while since I first wrote that chapter.
4631101 No, I mean like a small group of soldiers(scout for example) Got trapped and made a stand to the death
Check the link I provided
4634854 Don't worry, I know about that battle. It MADE the French Foreign Legion.
4636341
Okay then
4622229 Eh, I kinda fat fingered that response. What I meant to ask was what was left for the griffons to do at this point. They're going to be desperate and might resort to something worse than hiring a dragon.
4637494 Perhaps, but for now, they have to go.
4228935
Seriously man! At least check on Wikipedia or something!
4648400 Oh, well, thanks.
That was fun. Looking forward to more.
Keep up the good work. Deus tecum.
4682985 Thanks!
Awesome Chapter!!
I bet those 'crystal guns' the gryphons had are based on the ones from the 'Darkness (something)' series by Turtledove, right?
I was thinking about the Griffon that got bucked by Barrel from the previous chapter, wouldn't it be nice he was captured as a war prisoner. It could be that he was captured, basically saved from a mob of Trottingham ponies intent of lynching him after beating the crap out of him for what the Griffon forced them to do: To fire on their own people.
The poor sod terrified & horribly surprised that the ponies took the city from them.
Just a thought...
That moment when the ponies turned on their Griffin commanders made me so proud and happy. These ponies are awesome.
Chapter 45
"He who will not risk, can not win" (Clausewitz?)
So the tanks have a weakness: Concentrated fire
8219730
I'm pretty sure almost all tanks have that weakness
Halberd with (perhaps) a shorter staff?