> Brothers in Arms
>  by Eagle
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

From this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remember'd;  We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile.
-King Henry V






P.O.V.- SSGT Matthew Baker-U.S. 101st Airborne Division, 502nd PIR, 2nd Battalion, Fox Company, 3rd Platoon, 3rd Squad.

What is it that makes a great soldier? Is it his brain, or his heart? My dad asked me that question at the age of seven while I was at the dinner table. I remember it vividly, because he never told me the goddamn answer. But before he died, he did tell me one thing; soldiers have two families, those you raise, and those you raise hell with.



P.O.V. 3rd Person

Ramsbury Air Base
September 16th, 1944

“… And he kept tellin’ me how I didn’t look eighteen!” Baker’s new recruit, Franky LaRoche said.

“You don’t,” Baker replied.

“Heh, I know, yeah,” Franky replied nervously. “Hey you think you can talk to Corrion for me?”

“Sam? What for?”

“He seems to have it in for me.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Franky. Don’t worry about it,” Baker assured him before Franky was slapped on the back of the head by McCreary.

“You paint that yourself, Beans?” the vet joked, referring to the replacement’s given nickname scribbled in black on the back of his jacket.

“Don’t call me Beans!” he replied in a hushed voice.

Behind them, another replacement and veteran were talking. Private First Class Mike Dawson, born in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, England, had somehow ended up in the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment as a Pathfinder for Normandy. The other, PFC Jack Courtland from Richmond, Virginia had fought with the original squad in Normandy.

“So, you’re saying you don’t know bollocks about the pistol?” Dawson asked, his accent sticking out.

“Nothing to tell, Daws. Just a bunch of crap some guys made up,” Courtland replied.

“Would you hold it?”

“People died there, man! Don’t go diggin’ where there’s already holes.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Courtland,” Dawson said before the two split up. Courtland moved towards the opening of a tent where Baker and Corporal Samuel Corrion were talking.

“Hey Corrion, are we still at the range at Thirteen Hundred?” he asked.

“Yea, I’ll talk to you in a minute, Jack,” Corrion replied. 

When the U.S.A. had entered the war, Sam signed up early of his own free will and became one of the original members of the 101st. Still, he was just a corporal, and had been passed up for a promotion several times. It was starting to get to him.

“He’s too young,” Corrion told Baker, referring to Franky.

“It’s a bit of a grey area, Sam,” Baker replied, “but he’s a standout if I’ve ever seen one. Excellent shot! The kid hit a quarter at fifty yards. A quarter!”

“But he’s got no combat experience at all!” Corrion argued back.

“Everybody got replacements, but we got a good one. I’ll vouch for Franky personally.”

“I hope you’re right,” Corrion said as the two left the tent.

Walking out of the tent into the bright day, they passed another two soldiers talking. Again, one was a new guy, and the other was a D-Day veteran.

“I need you to find some paint, Jas,” Hartsock said.

Sergeant Joseph Hartsock, affectionately called ‘Red’ due to his hair color, hailed from Laramie, Wyoming where he had worked on a ranch and hunted most of his life. He had fought in Normandy quite a bit under Baker in the original Third Squadron’s roster. Following some distinguished service, he was promoted to the command of Second Squad.

“Sure! I’ll steal some paint for ya, sergeant,” PFC Gary Jasper, the heavy weapons recruit, replied.

“Requisition, private,” Hartsock corrected.

“What’re we paintin’?” 

“We’re the tip of the spear, Jas. We need to look sharp when we go in.”

“Wilco!” Jasper said before running off.

Continuting on, Hartsock moved into a tent with four other soldiers inside playing cards. These were Roselli, Paddock, Friar, and Campbell.

“Why would you say that? He’s right there!” Roselli yelled.

“Stand back, Mussolini! Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you!” Paddock insulted the replacement.

“I swear to god, Paddock I’ve had it with that shit!” he yelled as he tried to move forward, only to be held back by Hartsock.

“What the hell is going on in her?” Hartsock yelled before being answered by Campbell, another Normandy vet.

“Well, eh, Paddock was saying some stuff that made him sound like a real dick…”

“If I see one damn bruise on any of you, it’ll be KP and latrines for a week!” Hartsock interrupted. “I know this is getting frustrating. I know we all wanna jump to it. Just know it ain’t that simple!”

“Maybe it should be,” Roselli said.

“Maybe you should bring that up with General Montgomery,” PFC Dean ‘Friar’ Winchell replied.

“Got a pen?” Roselli joked.

“The plan’s the same, guys,” Hartsock interrupted. “We punch through the German line. Punch straight into Berlin. Punch Hitler in the face. Win the war and be home by Christmas.”

“Hey Paddock,” Friar called.

“What you want, small fry?”

“Here’s a thought. If you’re gonna cheat, make sure you don’t use two queens of spades!” he said, dropping his hand on the table for the group to see.

“Aw, you son of bitch, Paddock!” Roselli sighed.

Walking back out of the tent, the troops gathered around the squad’s 4X4 Willys Jeeps. There were four of these, whose four-wheel drive proved useful in moving around quickly over almost any terrain, which was especially important as the squad were part of the recon element. 

“Hey Jas!” Hartsock called out.

“Yea Red?”

“You got that paint I asked for?”

“WILCOOO!” Jasper sang out.

Courtland, Corrion, and McCreary were talking in a group, reminiscing about the last fight they were in.

“Is Mac still trailing around with Cole?” Courtland asked, referring to First Sergeant Greg ‘Mac’ Hassay, who led 3rd Platoon, Fox Company during D-Day.

“Well, he made him first sergeant,” McCreary replied.

“Anyone else a little werided out by that?” Courtland asked. “It’s like seeing your old boss.”

“Courtland, Mac’s kept us alive through shit no one should live through. We owe him a lot,” Corrion said.

The men were currently in the process of picking out names. The lead was already decided. Called ‘Those we Lost’ it bore the names of the originals that died in France. The other three were more light-hearted.

“You don’t wanna know what I had to do to get this,” Jasper joked as he set the can of paint on the ground.

“You sure this is okay, Red?” Campbell asked.

“Well, we all picked radio callsigns,” he replied.

“This’ll help keep the jeeps straight,” Baker said.

“And crush the Germans with our scary zoo animals!” Jasper said. “Sheisse! Ein zebra!” he yelled, pointing into the air with one hand and sticking the index finger of his other over his top lip, pretending to have a mustache.

“The zebra is a fierce animal!” Hartsock said, continuing the joke.

“Hey, swordfishes are plenty tough! One time my friend Nathan got speared through his hand with its…is it a beak?” Campbell said before looking at the last jeep. “Wait, what was the other one?”

“Toucan,” Corrion answered, getting a confused look from Campbell. “Hey, it’ll peck your damn eyes out, man.”

“Alright guys!” Baker said as he rallied the men. “Guys, I don’t do speeches, that was always Mac’s thing, but tomorrow we’re heading into Holland and opening up a goddamn highway. So hit the mess and get some sleep; it’ll be the last we get of either for a long damn while.”



P.O.V. Baker
Well, what happened the next day wasn’t exactly planned to happen. It wasn’t something me or Mac or anyone in the whole division could’ve seen coming. It was impossible for anyone to know, but I like to think. Looking back, I ask myself what I would have done if I did know. Would I have gotten off the plane, or decide to go anyway? I guess it doesn’t matter really, cause it still happened all the same. When realization struck me, the first thing I thought was ‘did we just avoid a nightmare, or fall into one?’  I guess everyplace has their own little version of hell.

> The Wrong DZ
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 17th

“That ground is getting fucking close!”  McCreary yelled over the sound as the men sat in the now descending glider.

“We’ll be fine!” said T/5 Nathan Holden, the squad’s radioman.

“How do you know?” McCreary yelled back, not getting any answer.

The glider descended through the sky, quietly coming closer and closer to the ground. It was a relatively normal trip. The sky was clear with a few clouds and the sun shining brightly; this was perfect weather for an airborne operation. The only off thing was a massive, dark cloud the formation flew through. But, when they came out, everything was ok, so the operation continued on.

Looking out one of the windows, Corporal Thomas Zanovich thought he saw something, barely noticeable but something. It was like a blue blur that seemed to be following at a distance before shooting off quickly.

“Hey, did you see that?” he asked to no one in particular.

“See what?” Courtland asked.

“There was some sort of blue blur outside the glider!”

“Zano, we’re in the sky!” McCreary responded, “The whole damn thing is blue!”

Before Zanovich could respond, all the eyes turned forward to see their drop zone. The glider’s DZ was a large, open field. It came closer and closer until it finally touched down. It skidded along in a straight line at a fast pace for some time before finally coming to a rest just before it hit a tree. 

“Move! Move! Get the jeep out, now! We have a link up to get to!” Zanovich ordered.

The men soon took a seat and the jeeps began to roll down a dirt road towards the rendezvous. Looking around, they could see dozens of other gliders landing in fields, troops jumping out of C-47 Skytrains and parachuting down, other already on the ground running and carrying out their assigned tasks. Operation Market seemed to be going off without a hitch.



Twilight Sparkle had just finished re-shelving the library. It had taken several hours of hard work by her and her assistant, Spike, but everything was where it was supposed to be. It was worth the time and effort, at least until her friend Rainbow Dash came bursting through the door at top speed and crashing into the shelves.

“Ugh, Rainbow! What’s wrong with you!?” she yelled from under a pile of books. “Do you know how long it too-”

“There’s no time!” Rainbow said, picking her friend out of the pile. “Something crazy is happening! I was on weather patrol over the field north of the Everfree, and I saw these giant, noisy, metal birds, a-and…”

“Calm down, Rainbow!”  Twilight interrupted, confused about what she was talking about. “Now what’s this about metal birds?”

“Giant metal birds!” Rainbow corrected her. “And not only that, but these other creatures were jumping out of their bellies and floating down! I didn’t know what they were, so I came to see if you knew.”

Twilight looked on in confusion. It sounds ridiculous, but why would Rainbow lie to her? 

“Was it another one of her pranks, maybe?” she thought.  “No, she’s too frantic. Maybe she just hit her head and saw something.”

“Rainbow, why don’t you go home and get some rest.  I’m sure it was nothing,” Twilight suggested.

“NO! I know I saw something out there! There’s no time to sleep!”

“No time for napping?” Twilight giggled. “You definitely hit your head.”

“Agh,” Rainbow grunted in frustration.

Before either could continue, they heard a strange noise that sounded like a distant buzzing noise coming closer. Rainbow zoomed outside to confirm what she thought it was. She then went back into the library, picked up Twilight, and flew her outside. 

“See!” she said pointing towards the sky.

Twilight didn’t expect to see anything, but sure enough, there was something metal flying through the air. The two continued to gaze at it as it disappeared beyond sight. 

“So do you know what it is?” Rainbow asked.

“N-no. I’ve never seen anything quite like that before, but from what I saw, it looked more like some kind of machine,” Twilight replied. “You said other things were jumping out of it?”

“Yea, they didn’t look like they could fly. They just sort of, floated down.”

“Ok. Let’s get the others, then we’ll go investigate.”

“You think they’re dangerous, Twilight?” Rainbow asked.

“I don’t know, Rainbow. But that’s why we need to hurry,” she replied.

“Well they’d better not hurt anypony, or I’ll buck them into next week!”



By the time Baker and his squad had reached the RV point, they had realized something was off. The farmhouse where they were to meet the Dutch Resistance member was nowhere to be found, so he decided to continue on and ask Mac about it. Maybe they were at the wrong DZ.

“Baker! Hey, Baker!”

He turned and saw his old commander, Mac, walking alongside Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cole. 

“Matt! I’d heard they’d put you guys in recon. Can’t say I’d figured you’d be waiting in our DZ,” Mac said.

“Actually Mac, I wanted to ask you about the DZ-“ Mac cut Baker off before he could finish.

“Sir! A few of these men fought at-“ now it was Mac’s turn to be interrupted.

“Baker? Yea, I remember. I’m not good with names, but I certainly heard yours enough after D-Day,” Cole said. “I could use a favor if ya’ll are up to it.”

“Actually sir, I wanted to ask you if we missed our drop point. None of the landmarks fit,” Baker asked.

“Yea, I know. The damn pilots really screwed the pooch this time. The only landmark in the area is that big damn forest in front of us, and that’s not even on the map!” Cole explained. “In fact, I havn’t been able to get in contact with anyone or anything higher than division level. Apparently, we’ve lost all contact with our home base. Hell, Col. Sink can’t even reach London!”

“Sir, what should we do?” Baker asked.

“The rest of our men and equipment are coming down now in this area. Since you guys are recon, I want you to scout down that road and through the forest. I already radioed one of your jeeps to meet up here,” said Cole before he was answered by the horn of said jeep blaring angrily at a soldier standing in the road.

“In Holland the horn still means ‘get outta me fucking way!’” Zanovich yelled. “Uh, sorry sir.”

“We’re ready to move out when you are sergeant,” Holden called.

After driving a short ways down the road, they reached the entrance to the forest. The road was drivable, but since it was so narrow and the woods so thick, Baker decided to continue on foot in case of an ambush. The woods themselves were dark, with little sunlight coming in and a light fog hanging near the ground. Several odd noises that sounded like some strange beast hounded the soldiers every now and then as they marched onward.

Baker’s third squad was broken up into three teams. The base-of-fire team contained Zanovich, Franky, and Dawson. The assault team was made up of Corrion, McCreary, and Courtland. Lastly, the support team was made up of Jasper (who could use either a bazooka or, in this case, a Browning 30.Cal MG), his loader, private Timothy Connor, and Holden. 

The base-of-fire team was armed mostly with rifles, but could utilize other weapons. Their main job in combat was to lay down suppressing fire on enemy positions. This would prevent the enemy from moving.

The assault team’s job was to flank the enemy once suppressed. Armed mostly with close-range weapons like the Thompson sub-machine gun, they would finish off the enemy by going round his side and firing on his exposed position. Alternatively, they could close the distance directly and use grenades to destroy the target.

The support team’s role was mixed. If they carried a machine gun, they would usually be used to suppress. If they had a bazooka, they would be able to destroy enemy positions in light cover.

Still, the jobs were not always permanent, nor were the men. During the fighting in Normandy, one team would be playing a new role due to the battle’s requirements. And, due to the heavy losses in Normandy, many teams found themselves working with troops from other teams or even from other squads.

“How solid is our intel?” Holden asked. “Do we know if Germans are even in the area at all? It seems like a foolish move.”

“We don’t know for sure; that’s why it’s called recon,” Zanovich replied.

“Oh yes. I’m quite aware of the ramifications. We protect the brass by dying first. I understand.”

“The Gospel according to Holden!” Zanovich chuckled.

Continuing on a short ways, Baker suddenly ordered the squad to halt. They stood still and listened, confirming Baker’s suspicions. Voices were heard nearby and getting closer. Baker silently ordered the men off the road and to take cover in the woods, with the machine gun ready to open fire if necessary. 

“You hear that?” Corrion asked. “It sounds like English.”

“Might just be some of the locals trying to find us,” Baker replied.

“Or the Huns are trying to trick us,” Dawson said.

“That’s weird, it sounds like girls,” Courtland whispered.

“Well, looks like we’re about to find out,” Corrion said.

Baker raised his hand and ordered the squad to take aim, if it fell, they would open fire. Luckily, Baker was too stunned by what he saw to act, as was everyone else. Out of the clearing and coming down the road, oblivious to the danger they were in, were six talking, multi-colored, miniature horses. Upon closer inspection, Baker saw two had wings, the blue and yellow ones, and another two, the purple and white ones, had horns. The last two, one that was orange and another that was bright pink, didn’t seem to have any kind of special attachments. He tried to listen in on what they were saying.

“Really, darling; aren’t you being a bit paranoid? Perhaps the princess was just testing some new contraption,” suggested the white one.

“No, Celestia would have told me if she was testing a new invention,” the purple one said. “I don’t think even she would know what these things are.”

“Um, m-maybe w-we should just leave them alone. I mean, what I they’re dangerous?” asked the yellow one in the back.

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy. I’m sure that whatever it is these things are, they won't be much of a threat.” the purple one answered again.

“Yea, they didn’t look very tough to me!” the blue one boasted.

Ducking down into cover, the squad exchanged confused and bewildered glances with each other. Each soldier had the same kind of look on his face, as if there was a silent universal chorus of ‘did you see what I saw?’ The only one to actually speak was Jasper’s loader, Connor.

“Hey Jas,” he whispered.

“Y-Yea?” Jasper replied, eyes still fixed on the contacts.

“What did you say about crushing the Germans with zoo animals?”

> Mission: Albany
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.O.V.-Baker
At that moment I realized something was very wrong. Should I open fire or just let them pass. Or, I could go out and talk to them. But what if they were hostile? What if this was some kind of trap by the Germans? It may seem like a difficult choice, but when you know every choice you make determines the lives of your men, the answer is usually quick and clear.




P.O.V.- Third Person

“What? Why can’t we open fire?” Japer whispered to his commander.

“We don’t know what we’ve gotten ourselves into, Jas. Just let them pass us,” Baker answered.

“Besides, what’s the worst they could do?” said Courtland.

“Well…they could run up to us and explode!” Jasper exclaimed in a hushed voice.

“Really, Jas?” Baker deadpanned. “They don’t know we’re here, so just let them go by.”

Little by little, the would-be targets moved out of sight, though it wasn’t until it was totally silent that the men felt secure again. They got out from their positions in the woods and regrouped on the narrow road. 

“What the hell is going on here?” asked Corrion, who was more curious than anything.

“I’m not sure, but we have to have to keep moving,” Baker said. “I’m guessing that there’s some sort of civilization in the direction we came from. Maybe we can find some answers there.”

“Yea, or a bunch of new bad guys that want to roast us over an open fire,” said Jasper.

“It’s just recon, we’ll run in, see what we can find, run out, and report back,” Baker said. “Now let’s get moving, from what I can see the sun’s going down.”

“Christ, how can you even tell in this place?” McCreary said. “This forest is way worse than the ones in France.”

The troops started to march down the road once again, this time being far more attentive to their surroundings. They kept their eyes open for anything that looked out of the ordinary; but, as they went on, such sights became more and more common.

The fog that covered the forest floor seemed to thicken. Large, strange shadows stalked them. The trees at one point seemed to be making the evilest of faces. It was really a test of even the older vet's nerves as the tried not to lose it.

They continued to go down the road for a couple of hours. They constantly held their weapons at the ready. Several strange noises followed them during their trip; most them sounded like the low growls of a predator stalking its prey. The men were becoming anxious, hoping they would soon exit the terrifying place. 

Eventually, they came across a sign that seemed to answer that question, but raise more. It was a small, old wooden sign on the side of the road; being little more than a stick with another plank of wood fashioned to point in the direction they were already going. What was off was the name and that it was in English.

“Ponyville,” Franky read. “What kind of name is that?”

“It’s not Dutch, that’s for sure,” Corrion answered. “Does anyone see any other signs; maybe to Eindhoven?”

“I don’t see any others,” McCreary answered.

Before anyone else could speak, the squad heard something; like the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves in the forest. Soon, it was followed by a low growl.

“Oi! You hear that?”  Dawson asked.

“Yeah, sounds like it’s in front of us, somewhere in the woods,” Baker answered. “I don’t like this. Get ready guys.”

There wasn’t much cover on the road, and everyone knew it was unwise to run into the forest where the noise was coming from. The troops knelt down and scanned their surroundings; Jasper got into a prone position and covered the front of the road with the 30.

The men waited for a few tense seconds before they heard a much louder roar, followed by a massive beast jumping out onto the road and began charging t them. The troops immediately swung around to face the new opponent. No order was needed as all ten opened fire on the animal, stopping it in its tracks.

The whole encounter lasted about ten seconds. The large predator, which might have stood a chance if it was just one soldier, was overwhelmed by the barrage of bullets. Even after it hit the ground in a bloody heap, the men continued the barrage until Baker ordered a cease fire. The forest became quiet again, save for the clicking sound of reloading guns.

He cautiously approached the animal, checking for signs of life. After putting a couple more bullets from his M1 Garand into its now exposed skull for good measure, he began to look it over. At first he thought it was some kind of lion, but upon closer inspection, found that it had a large scorpion tail and the wings of a bat.

“What the hell is that thing, sarge?” Franky asked.

“I don’t know. Looks like some kind of weird hybrid creature,” Baker said, struggling to find the words to describe it.

“Well, one thing is for certain guys,” Corrion said, “We sure as hell aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

The men fell quiet for a second, letting the thought come in. If they weren’t in The Netherlands, then where were they? McCreary was the first one to respond to this thought, trying to lighten the mood.

“It would’ve been funnier if Paddock were here to say that,” he said, referring to third squad’s Kansas native.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, everyone couldn’t help but chuckle a bit; eventually it broke out into a round of laughter.

“Heh, alright, alright,” Baker called to his men, trying to calm them down. “Let’s keep it moving. I guess the next stop will be Ponyville.”



Twilight couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She didn’t know exactly what to expect when her and her friends arrived, but this was certainly one of the crazier things. Standing near the forest clearing where they could get a good view, but far back enough so that they wouldn’t be seen, they observed the fields. 

There were bi-pedal creatures running about each doing some sort of task; and, they were everywhere.Each one wore clothes; more specifically, some type of green uniform. Some of the others were light brown. Each one also wore a metal helmet on their head. Also noticeable was that each uniform had symbols; some had a white heart painted on their helmet, while others had what looked like a spade. Some had a single yellow stripe on their side, while others had three; some even had diamonds on their shoulders. There were two things on each uniform, a strange symbol that looked like a flag on one side, and what looked like an eagle's head on the other.

They worked with a number of strange machines, such as long wooden and metal sticks that made a loud pop like thunder. Others had some kind of machine that they road around in at astonishing speeds; and it didn't seem to be pulled or pushed by something. It was truly shocking to see such a force.

“Huh, they looked a lot weaker when they were floating down,” Rainbow said, stunned by the sight.

“What do you suppose they want?” Applejack asked.

“I’m not sure,” Twilight answered. “But, I think it’s best if we let the Princess know before we try anything. Let’s watch a little more, then head back.” 

They continued to watch, seeing another flying machine come overhead. Just as Dash said, more of the creatures jumped out and plummeted towards the ground. Before they hit it, some kind of chute would come out of their back and restrained them, allowing them to float safely to the ground.

“It’s amazing! How do they make that thing fly?” Twilight thought out loud.

“I curious as to what they make those chute things out of,” Rarity said. “And their clothing style is quite…interesting, as well.”

Before they could continue, they hear a series of pops, similar to the ones the creature’s sticks made. But, these were more far off, and they came from behind them.

“Did you hear that?” Dash asked. “That came from behind us, near Ponyville!”

“Let’s hurry back,” Twilight said. “Something bad might have happened.”

Doubling back down the road, the six ran through the forest. They were about halfway back to town when they reached the sign. Just in front of it was a horrifying sight. A Manticore was lying dead in the road in a pool of its own blood.

Each of them displayed varying degrees of shock. Fluttershy turned her head away and cried softly, Pinkie’s mane fell straight in a depressed state, and Rarity outright fainted. The others stood back as Twilight moved forward to inspect it.

She looked it over, trying her best not to be sick. She found that there were dozens of small holes in the animal. To kill a creature as deadly as a Manticore must have required something with a lot of power; something that was very deadly. From the sound of those pops they heard earlier, she guessed that they must have come from the creatures.

“What should we do, Twi?” Applejack asked.

“We keep going and tell the Princess about this as soon as we get back.”

“Hey, look at these tracks!” Rainbow yelled from her spot.

Going to where she was, they found several prints in the dirt. It was hard to tell, but there were so many that they were easily recognizable. They weren’t hoof prints, however. These were longer and less round, and they all pointed towards their home town.

“Oh no!” said Twilight as she realized the final part. “Those things must be heading towards Ponyville!”

“What!?” Rarity yelled, snapping out of her seemingly sub-conscious state. 

“We have to hurry! Who knows what they’ll do if they get to town before us!” 



Baker and his men had finally reached the end of the forest. When they got out, they were greeted by the scene of a small village. It seemed to be made up mostly of cottages, and the residents were of the same kind of horses they had spotted earlier. It was already dark, so most of the remaining ones seemed to be heading into their individual homes.

“What should we do, Matt?” Corrion asked as the squad gathered around and took a knee to listen.

“Ok, at least we’ve found out where those horse things came from. Let’s head down there and see if we can’t get some answers.”

“But we still don’t know if they’re hostile or not,” Dawson said.

“Then we’ll just have to do this quietly,” he said as he stood up. “On me guys, and stay on your toes.”

The troops jogged quietly into town, keeping an eye open for anything major. Most of the residents were already sleeping soundly at this point, but the troops still stuck to the alleyways so as not to attract attention.

“Where are we even going?” Courtland asked.

“I was hoping to find the town square, but now I don’t know,” Baker replied. “Let’s just keep looking and see what we can find. We’ll start by going into houses; with any luck, the owners won’t be home and we can find something useful.”

“Where should we start?” Franky asked.

“What about the one across the street? There’s no lights on inside,” McCreary suggested pointing to the strange looking house.

“The hell is that thing made of, gingerbread?” Holden whispered to himself.

The troops hustled across the street, being careful to avoid any beams of light. They all stacked up in front of the doorway, with Corrion on one side and Courtland on the other. On Baker’s order, Courtland quietly checked to see if the door was locked and, upon discovering that it was, promptly kicked it in. The men poured in, quickly and quietly, checking around for any signs of hostiles. When the call of ‘clear’ echoed, the men relaxed.

“Alright guys,” Baker said as he found and flipped the light switch. “Check for anything that could tell us where we are or- Zano, what the hell are you doing!?”

The men looked over to see the corporal munching happily away at a set of what looked like a set of fresh cupcakes.

“Wha?” he asked, trying to finish chewing before he spoke again. “They’re pretty good! Certainly better than the crap we get in the rations.”

Baker opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when he heard something at the door. Spinning around with guns at the ready, the men came face to face with the same six creatures they saw in the woods earlier.

The looks on their faces differed in each. The pink one seemed to be confused, the blue one looked like she was ready to charge the soldiers, and the rest had solid fear displayed on their features.

The men’s faces were mostly the same. A hint of fear in each that didn’t show from behind a wall of determination and focus, all of them pointing their weapons at the new arrivals. Only Zanovich, who was standing over to the side with his BAR in one hand and a half eaten treat in the other, was different; displaying a look of surprise and confusion. 

There was absolute silence. During the standoff, none spoke for fear of the consequences. Everything would have gone quite bad if it wasn’t for Pinkie unintentionally breaking the deadlock.

“Hey! Those are my cupcakes you’re eating!” she said, pointing a hoof to Zanovich.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” he replied.

“It’s ok!” she said as she bounced over to him. “I’m always glad to see sompony enjoy my work!”

“Well thanks, I guess,” he replied.

“My name’s Pinkie Pie! What’s yours?” she asked, getting very close to his face.

“Uh, Thomas Zanovich.”

“Zano-what now? That’s a funny name!” she giggled, causing the paratrooper to blush a bit from embarrassment.

“W-well you can just call me Zano if you like.”

“Zano? That’s even funnier!” she laughed. “I think I’ll call you that!”

Zanovich groaned in frustration, causing McCreary to chuckle a bit. His chuckle then became an all-out laughter that spread around to the other and caused the men to relax and lower their weapons.

“I guess we should start working things out now,” Baker said to the group of mini horses.

> The All-Americans
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.O.V-Baker
I can’t begin to describe the amount of relief I felt after that. Leading men through war is hard; but here, we were, for the most part, all alone. We were in uncharted waters, all on our own, and the whole world either with or against us. From the moment I saw that pink one laughing, I knew it was with us.



September 18th

Following the close encounter and early introductions at the bakery, the troops and ponies had relocated to the town library, so as not to draw attention. They had all remained quiet until they got there; sure these ponies knew they meant no harm, but the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the sleepy village.

Opening the door to the library, everyone and pony piled in, quickly cramming the building. Once inside, the men began to look around. They would switch alternatively between talking with the ponies and inspecting the collection books in the library. Despite the request from Twilight, they kept their weapons close at hand; knowing it would be foolish to surrender their arms in unknown territory.

“Spike, we have visitors!” Twilight called to her sleeping assistant. “Can you make some coffee while I talk to them?”

The men heard a yawn and groan, followed by slow footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Uh, who would want to visit us this late at ni-” he stopped as he saw the humans standing about the room. “Whoa, what are you?”

“I’m a human; what are you, a giant lizard or something?” McCreary replied.

“Hey, I’m a dragon, y’know!” he said, now fully awake. “It’s just…I’m still little!”

“Ah, I’m just messin with ya, kid,” McCreary replied in a light hearted tone before ruffling his head.

Baker was sitting on the couch, with most of the group joining around. Twilight ran about excitedly, putting some things into place before sitting down next to Baker with a quill and paper.

“I can’t believe this!” she said excitedly. “I actually discovered a new species, far more technologically advanced than us or anypony, and I get to interview it! Oh, you don’t mind, do you?”

“No, I don’t mind if you ask me some questions,” Baker said, eliciting a squee form Twilight that caused the men to look around in confusion and try to find where the strange noise had come from.

“Ok, first off, what are your full names and where are you from?” she asked.

“I’m Staff Sergeant Matthew Baker of the United States Army,” Baker replied, soon followed by the rest of the squad.

“The United States? I've never heard ah that place before,” Applejack stated.

“You got a map?” Baker replied and, upon first glance of it, confirmed the men’s suspicions.

“Oh great, we really aren’t on Earth anymore,” Corrion stated.

“So you’re not even from this world!?” Twilight asked.

“I guess we aren’t,” Baker replied.

“Well, that explains why we’ve never seen anything like you here,” Twilight said. “What do you call yourselves, anyway?”

“I guess you could call us humans, men, people,” Baker said.

Twilight scribbled this down in on the paper as Spike brought back the coffee.

“Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have any whiskey, would you?” Zanovich asked. “I really need something strong to drink for all this.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have anything like that. Equestria is mostly a dry country. The only alcohol we have is wine,” Twilight responded, getting a groan from Zanovich.

“It’s alright,” he replied, taking out a small carton. “Hey boys, who’s up for a Lucky Strike?”

“I’ll take one,” Franky said.

“Your only seventeen, Beans,” Corrion replied.

“Yea, so what’s wrong with that?” he asked.

“Never mind,” Corrion sighed. “I’ll take one too, Zano.”

As Zanovich lite his and passed his lighter to them, he noticed the ponies were giving him a strange look.

“I’m guessing you don’t have tobacco here, either?” he asked.

“Uh, n-no,” Twilight answered, coughing a bit from the new smell “Ok, back on track. Let’s see; names, home, species. Ok, why do you have all this equipment? Does it have something to do with your job?”

“Yes, we’re soldiers.” Baker said.

“What’s that?” Pinkie asked.

“It means we fight in wars,” he answered her, earning a collective round of gasps from the ponies.

“Why would anypony want a war?” Twilight asked.

“So you don’t have war, either?” Baker asked.

“No, we do; but, it’s been several thousands of years since the last one. At least in our country, Equestria; I’m not sure about everywhere else.”

“So you don’t have a standing military like us?” Courtland asked.

“Well we have the royal guards, but other than that no,” she replied. “Usually, the six of us can handle whatever problems come around.”

“Geez, I’m sure glad I don’t live here,” Connor whispered to Holden, who nodded in agreement. “They’re nice, but they wouldn’t last a minute against the Nazis.”

“Well, it’s a long story, but I’ll give you the basics,” Baker said, pulling out a small paper map of the earth. “It started when a man named Adolf Hitler and his Nazi party came to power in the country of Germany. He militarized it and within about a year he conquered Poland, France, and most of the rest of the continent of Europe before the English were able to stop him from crossing their channel and invading their island.”

Dawson couldn’t help but smile slightly in pride as Baker continued on. 

“After that, he tried to invade a country called Russia; but, that didn’t turn out to well for him. Our country entered the war when Germany’s ally, Japan, attacked our naval base at Pearl Harbor. After about three and a half years of fighting, us and thousands of troops from other allied nations landed and liberated France. We were on our way to liberate another country called Holland before we wound up here.”

“Yea, and the sooner we get back, the sooner we can kick their asses back across the Rhine,” McCreary said.

“You said a swear!” Pinkie gasped.

“What, you don’t have freedom of speech here, either!?” McCreary yelled.

“N-no we do, It’s just that most ponies try not to swear of their own will, so it’s a little frowned upon,” Twilight replied.

“Oh, well I guess you all should get used to it, because I’m pretty sure me and everyone else is gonna continue for a long damn while,”  he replied, chuckling to himself at the ponies’ wincing expressions.

“So that’s it, basically. We’ve been fighting to liberate territory that’s been taken by a madman. We’ve also heard rumors about some kind of extermination camp, but we’re not sure if that’s just propaganda or not,” Baker finished.

“Well, that certainly seems noble of you,” Rarity said. “But, don’t you miss your home?”

“Every day, we all wish we were home,” he replied, some of the troops’ heads dropping in depression.

“Well, have you tried being friends with this Hitler?” Twilight asked. “My teacher, Princess Celestia, taught us that the magic of friendship can do anything!”

“In your world, maybe,” Dawson said. “England and France tried to appease Hitler before the war got started, and he just ended up stabbing us in our bloody back. All he recognizes is power, so it’s up to us to stop him.”

“So you don’t have friends?” Twilight asked. “I mean, surely you all are friends, right?”

Baker thought deeply for a moment on how to answer, going back on all the experiences he had with these men.

“Yea, but after what we went through, these guys are more than friends. I consider them my family. We’re like brothers.”

The troops smiled and nodded in approval, both at their leader and at each other. Jasper and Connor silently slapped hands, McCreary threw his arm around Franky’s shoulder and leaned on him, causing both to chuckle, and Courtland and Corrion quickly reminisced by themselves about their time during training.

“Ok, so moving on to the equipment, could you explain your clothing?” Twilight asked.

“I must say it looks dashing on you, darling,” Rarity said. “But why do you where that awful helmet? It messes up the entire outfit.” 

“I don’t know, I think it’s kinda cool!” Pinkie said, appearing on top of Baker’s head from underneath the helmet before jumping down to his other side, now wearing it. “Why do you have these weird goggles on it?”

Baker, deciding to leave the question of ‘how the hell did she do that?’ for later, quickly snatched the helmet off and held it in his hands.

“The helmet itself is for protection during battle, …the goggles used to belong to another friend of mine, George Risner, before he was killed in France,” Baker explained.

“Oh, sorry,” Pinkie apologized. “Well, what do those markings mean?”

“The ‘R’ stands for recon, which means we go out and find the enemy and gather intelligence; but, we often end up getting into fights, as well. The heart is the symbol of our regiment, the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment, which is in turn part of a division, which is composed of a few regiments. The number 13 is a reference to the original thirteen men of the squad I led in Normandy, France. They called it ‘Baker’s Dozen’.”

“Hey, you mind if I get a refill?” Jasper asked.

“Not at all!” Twilight replied, levitating the cup from his hand.

“How, how did you do that?” Jasper asked, bewildered again.

“With magic,” she replied.

“Great, magic,” Japer sighed. “Next you’re going to tell me you’ve got cats that can shoot lasers.”

“So you don’t have magic in your world?” Twilight asked.

“No, we don’t; nor can we fly or do anything as extraordinary naturally,” Baker said. “But, I guess not having such special natural gifts is what makes us so advanced. We don’t have that luxury, so we strive to do better and adapt, to become great at something or everything, and build and create things that allow us to do the seemingly impossible.”

“Like those flying machines!” Dash said.

“Yea, like airplanes.”

“Why do you jump out of those things, anyways?” she asked.

“Well, we’re not regular army infantry. We’re an elite type of soldier called a paratrooper. We fly behind the enemy lines and jump into their territory. Once there, we attack them, destroy supplies, capture vital areas, and other things like that.”

“Yea, you guys sound a lot tougher than I thought at first,” Rainbow said. “But the uh, … planes? Yea, the planes you jumped out of seemed pretty big and slow."

“Those were just transport planes; our C-47 Skytrains,” Baker said. “We’ve got other’s that can shoot down other planes called fighters, like the P-51 Mustang, and ones that attack ground targets, like the P-47 Thunderbolt. You’d like them much more.”

“Sorry, but I think we’re getting off track again,” Twilight interrupted. “Not that I don’t find this fascinating, but I do need to finish notes so I can write a letter to the Princess.”

“So this princess is also your teacher?” Holden asked.

“Yes, and the ruler of Equestria,” she answered.

“You mean you don’t have a king or queen?” Dawson asked. “I mean, England has Princes and Princesses, but we’re always ruled over by a king or queen.”

“No, we don’t have either. Princess Celestia has been co-ruler along with her sister, Princess Luna, for over a thousand years; except for that period when Luna became Nightmare Moon and was banished, but I’ll tell you about that later.”

“So they’re both over a thousand years old!?” Holden asked. “Let me guess, Magic?”

“Yep!” Twilight answered. “And they raise the sun and moon. Celestia moves the sun and rules day, while Luna raises the moon and rules the night. They also have several other powers, but I really do want to finish these notes; so can we continue, please?”

The men just marked it down as another crazy thing in a crazy land where the laws of science didn’t apply and agreed to move on.

“Can you tell me about the symbols on your uniform?” she asked.

“Yea, the stripes on the side of every soldier’s arm show his rank, from private on up. The little flag on this side is the flag of our country. And this,” Bakers said, pointing to the eagle’s head, “is the patch for our division, the 101st Airborne.”

“Our motto is ‘Rendezvous with Destiny’,” Courtland added on proudly. “Nickname: ‘Screamin’ Eagles’.”

“It means a lot because it's our country’s national bird and an important symbol in our history,” Baker finished.

“Ok, last thing for now,” Twilight said. “How do you’re weapons work?”

Baker dropped the magazine from his SMG and took out a single bullet.

“This is a bullet, the bullet goes into a clip along with other bullets; the exact number in a clip depends on the type of gun and the clip itself. The clip fits into the gun and feeds the bullets into the gun,” he said, putting the clip back in. “When I pull the trigger, the bullet gets propelled fast enough to penetrate the target and kill it,” he said, but restrained from giving an example.

“That’s what killed the poor manticore!” Fluttershy exclaimed from the back of the group.

“What?” Corrion asked.

“The animal you killed!” she said, clearly unhappy, but not psycho level.

“It was charging right at us! What were we supposed to do?” Corrion asked.

“I’m sure there was another way! You didn’t have to kill it!” she said.

“I didn’t get through everything France just to end up a meal for some oversized cat!” Corrion yelled, causing Fluttershy to shrink back and whimper. “Ah, I’m sorry. I’ve just…been through some bad stuff; it’s nothing personal, I promise.”

“Oh, it’s ok, I understand,” she said, now coming closer to the kneeling soldier. “I know you had to protect yourselves; it’s just, it makes me really sad to see animals get hurt.”

“What was your name, again?” he asked, smiling warmly.

“F…Fluttershy,” she replied, much calmer now.

“I really am sorry, Fluttershy. I don’t want to kill if I don’t have too; it’s not something I take a lot of joy in,” he said.

“It’s ok, I’ll forgive you!” she told him before pulling him into a light hug, and catching the soldier off guard.

While Fluttershy and Corrion worked things out, Baker began explaining the weapon types to the others.

“This is a rifle, specifically an M1 Garand. It holds eight bullets, or rounds, and is semi-automatic, meaning that a bullet will fire each time I pull the trigger; it’s better for long distances. This, the Thompson, is a fully automatic sub-machine gun; which means I can hold the trigger, it will fire all thirty rounds in a continuous stream; this is better for close quarters.”

He took out a grenade and held it in his hand.

“Lastly, the MK 2 fragmentation grenade will, once you pull the pin, explode and shower metal fragments, called shrapnel, after a few seconds. We usually use these against clusters of nearby enemies.”

“What about that small one?” Twilight asked, looking closely at the pistol. “‘For Matthew’; did somepony give you this?”

Baker thought back to when he first got the gun as a child.

“Mom said I couldn’t keep it,” the young Baker said to his father; handing him a case. “Sorry dad.”

His father took the case and examined its contents; a nickel-plated Colt M1911 with the words ‘For Matthew: Brothers in Arms’ engraved on the side.

“Yea, someone did. My father gave me this pistol when I was young.”

“Can I see it?” Twilight asked, levitating it out of the holster before Baker snatched it out of the air.

“No!” he nearly yelled. “I mean, I’d prefer to keep it to myself, thanks.”

The rest of the group stared awkwardly at him, with Applejack giving him a suspicious look.

“You sure you’re alright?” she asked. “You’re actin’ kinda funny.”

“I’m fine!” Baker said sternly, only getting an angrier look from the farm pony.

“It’s getting late,” Twilight said, trying to defuse the situation. “Let’s get some rest and we’ll feel better in the morning. You all are welcome to stay in Ponyville, if you like.”

“That sounds good; I don’t think I want to go back into that forest during nighttime,” Courtland said.

“Well, assuming you guys can’t walk on clouds, let’s break up and have two of each of you stay with one of the five of us.”

“Uh, ok,” Courtland responded, trying to connect everything.

“You sure about this, Twi?” Applejack whispered to her friend. “I can tell that one’s hidin’ something.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Applejack.” She responded before turning back to the group. “Ok, let me just write a quick letter to the princess and we’ll organize everything.”

She turned and left while Holden, who had been talking on the radio quietly, motioned for Baker to step outside with him.

“Sir, Cole wants a report,” he said.

“Let me talk to him,” Baker said. “Sir, what’s the situation in the field?”

“Bad!” came Cole’s voice from the other end. “Not only has the whole damn division come down in this area, but those idiots form the 82nd wound up here, too. You got any clue as to what the hell is going on, Sergeant?”

“Sir, if you can give me till morning, I’ll have all the answers for you.”

“What? Baker, where are you anyways?”

“It’s…hard to explain, but if you give me until tomorrow, I can sort this mess out. Just try and keep everyone in that area.”

“Alright, Baker; I’ll take your word for it. But you’d better hurry the hell up.”

“Yes sir, out.”

The two men walked back inside in time to see Spike light a letter on fire and send its strange looking ashes out the window.

“How did, never mind,” Baker said.



While Rainbow went back to her home in the clouds, the other five took two soldiers with them. Baker and Holden stayed with Twilight, Corrion and McCreary went with Applejack, Jasper and Connor went with Fluttershy, Zanovich and Franky went with Pinkie, and Dawson and Courtland went with Rarity.

During the night, Twilight awoke to hear some strange grunting and moaning coming from downstairs. Quietly going down, she saw it was coming from Baker; whose twisting and upset facial expressions told her he was having a nightmare.

Walking closely to his head, she wondered what he was dreaming about. From the looks of it, it was something bad, but she was still curious. She had learned a spell from Luna that allowed her to enter and witness the dream; albeit they had to stay hidden or else they could be recognized by the dreamer. She decided to try it gently tapped her horn on his forehead.

At first all she saw was white, but everything came into being soon. She was sitting in some bushes concealed from view. The area was only one dirt road that was blocked by fallen limbs from trees; the sides were blocked by strange, long, tall hedge.

In front of the limbs was some kind of vehicle; it was different that the one’s she’d seen before as this one seemed more built for combat. She saw one soldier sticking out from the top, while another four were standing on the road. The only one she recognized was Baker.

“I’m gonna have to shove through it,” the one on the vehicle said, climbing back inside.

She watched as the machine pushed through the limbs and onto the other side, followed by the infantry. She climbed out of the bushes and onto the road to get a better look. Suddenly, there was a strange ‘whoosh’ sound and something hit the vehicle, badly damaging it. The soldier popped out of the top again, holding what she recognized as a Thompson that Baker showed her.

“You have to go! Matt, get the hell outta here!” he yelled, firing at several other soldiers who were wearing grey and shooting at them. “Damn it! I’m out of ammo!”

He threw the gun aside and pulled out a pistol; continuing to fire. She recognized it was the same gun that Baker had; it had ‘To Matthew' on the side. She continued to watch in horror as the man was hit repeatedly by bullets and killed. 

“Twilight?” she heard Baker say, who had turned around and spotted her.

In an instant they both woke up. Baker sat up and rubbed his head, while Twilight was shaking and barely standing. She quickly pulled him into a hug and buried her head into his shoulder, crying softly.

“I’m so, so sorry!” she said. “I was curious about why your dream was so bad, so I-.”

“It’s alright,” Matt said, returning the hug. “Just…don’t do it again.”



Baker, Twilight, and the others got up early in the morning, so as not to draw attention, and met near the forest. Unlike the day before, the trek through the forest was relatively uneventful and quick; nothing eventful really happened. Coming out on the other side, Baker spotted Red and second squad, and asked the ponies to stay behind his squad while he explained the situation.

“Red, it’s good to see you!” Baker said.

“You too,” Hartsock said. “We managed to get all of our stuff together after we linked up with Sink.”

“Tell him about the jeep!” one of his men, private Derrick McConnell yelled from the rest of the squad’s position.

“When we crashed my jeep took a beating,” Hartsock admitted.

“He hit a tree!” McConnell continued.

“Well, it wasn’t steering right at the time,” Hartsock said.

“Oh, no! A conspicuously placed tree that could be a German in disguise!” McConnell said in a mock heroic tone. “Take cover, men! I’ll save us!”

Before Hartsock could reply, he heard giggling coming from behind Baker’s men and, leaning over a bit, spotted the ponies. 

“Matt, are those…h-horses?” he asked, a slight amount of fear present in his voice.

“Hey we’re not horses! We’re ponies!” Rainbow corrected him, only adding to Hartsock’s shock.

“Uh, Red, why don’t you just take us to Sink?” Baker said, pulling him aside. “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”



“Well, this is easily the craziest, most damnable thing I’ve ever experienced,” said Sink after Baker and the ponies explained everything to him and the other senior officers.

“So, what should we do, sir?” Baker asked.

After the senior officers talked to each other for a few minutes, Sink returned to Baker.

“Well, Sergeant, we can’t keep two divisions of men in the field all day. How far away is this town?”

“A few miles through the forest, sir,” he replied.

“Ok, it may be small, but we have to concentrate somewhere. That’ll be our base of operations and we’ll set up camp in or around town. We’re going to move the troops there now. Since you know the way, your squad’s jeeps can lead the column. Mount up and lead off when you’re ready.”

“Yes sir,” Baker replied before leading his men and the ponies to the four jeeps.

The ponies seemed a bit cautious about the vehicles at first, but they soon warmed up to them.

“Does it have some kind of engine that propels it forward? Like a train?” Twilight asked.

“Sort of, yea; the engine powers everything and makes the wheels turn,” Baker said, trying to save the details for latter and get on with the mission. “It can go up to forty miles per hour.”

“This little thing can go that fast?” Twilight asked.

“Yea, it’s really useful for getting around,” Baker said.

Twilight looked at the writing on the hoods of two of the jeeps. One, called ‘Zebra’, had ‘Bullet Magnet’ written on the side; obviously some kind of dark humor. The other was named ‘Those we Lost’ and had several names written below it.

“Are those the men that got killed in the first battle?” she asked.

“Yea, we wrote their names down so we’d never forget them,” Baker replied.

She went over the names: Muzza, Risner, Allen, Garnett, Rivas, Desola, Paige, Doyle, Obreiski, and Leggett.

“Wow, a lot of people died, huh?” she asked.

“Yea, we lost a lot of friends in Normandy,” Zanovich said, running his hand over the names. “Damn, I miss you, Obi.”

Over to the side, the rest of the group was talking to the soldiers some more.

“Excuse me, sir,” Rarity said to Hartsock, “I couldn’t help but notice that some of the people are wearing different patches. That means they’re from another…division, correct?”

“That’s right,” Hartsock said. “They from one called the 82nd Airborne. Their patch is AA because their nickname is All-Americans.”

“Why do they call themselves that?” Rainbow asked.

“It’s because they’re made up of men from all areas in the United States,” he answered. “They actually have more combat experience than us. The 101st and the 82nd were both in France, but the 82nd dropped in Sicily and fought on in Italy a year before. They’re pretty proud, too. ‘All-Americans, all the way!’ as they say.”

“They must’ve been through some bad stuff, too, huh?” Rainbow replied.

“Yea,” Hartsock said. “Hey sorry about calling you horses earlier; I just got a little jumpy is all. I’ve…had some bad experiences with horses.”

“It’s cool, bro,” Rainbow replied, sticking out her hoof to him.

Hartsock at first shook it, but got a confused look from the Pegasus. He then balled his hand into a light fist and tapped it against the hoof.

“That’s more like it!” Rainbow replied.

The troops mounted up on the jeeps, with the first three carrying two ponies each. Twilight and Pinkie sat with Baker in the lead. The sun was shining rather brightly today, and the forest was near as dark as it had been in the morning or the previous day. Getting settled in and into formation, they heard a little tune being whistled somewhere in the column.

“Hey Matt, you hear that?” Zanovich called.

“Yea, I hear it Zano,” he replied, a grin coming onto his face.

“Mind if we sing along, sarge?” McCreary asked.

“Sure,” Baker replied.

“Ooh, I love singing!” Pinkie said excitedly.

“I don’t think you’ll know this one,” Baker said. “We just came up with it.”



Well he was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright!
He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tied!
He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

The ponies seemed to take a bit of shock at the lyrics soon on.

'Is everybody happy?' cried the sergeant looking up!
Our hero feebly answered 'yes' and then they stood him up!
He jumped into the icy blast, his static line unhooked!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

He counted long, he counted long, he waited for the shock!
He felt the wind, he felt the cold, he felt the awful drop!
The silk from his reserve spilled out and wrapped around his legs!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

The risers swung around his neck, connectors cracked his dome!
Suspension chords were tied in knots around his skinny bones!
The canopy became his shroud; he hurtled to the ground!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

By now the entire column was singing as they drove through the forest, and the ponies steadily realized what was happening in the song’s story.

The days he lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind!
He thought about the girl back home; the one he’d left behind!
He thought about the medical, and wondered what they’d find!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild!
The medics jumped and screamed with glee, rolled up their sleeves and smiled!
For it had been a week or more since last a chute had failed!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

What was confusing for the ponies at this point were the soldiers. Despite singing a sad song, the tune was upbeat, and most of them had smiles plastered on their faces as they sang.

He hit the ground the, sound was *SPLAT*, his blood went squirting high!
His comrades then were heard to say ‘A helluva way to die’!
He lay there rolling round in the welter of his gore!
You ain’t gonna jump no more!

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die!
He ain’t gonna jump no more!

As the column rolled out of the forest, the troops sang the final two verses more solemnly, and at about half-speed.

There was blood upon the risers; there were brains upon the chute.
Intestines were a dangling from his paratrooper suite.
He lay there rolling round in the welter of his gore.
You ain’t gonna jump no more.

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die.
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die.
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.

And when he gets to hevan, to Saint Peter he will tell.
‘One more man reporting, sir; I’ve served my time in hell.
Saint Peter smiled and said to him ‘you’ve served your country well,
and you ain’t gonna jump no more’.

Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die.
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die.
Gory, glory, what a helluva way to die.
He ain’t gonna jump no more.

By the time the song had ended, the column had stopped near the town and the troops had dismounted. Baker lead Sink and the others to the town square where a large white alicorn, the princess he guessed, was addressing the townsfolk; telling them about the creatures so there would be no panic. The officers went to meet her along with Baker and the six ponies.

“I can’t wait to throw a party for all my new friends!” Pinkie said. “Uh, how many of you guys are there?”

“From both the 101st and the 82nd,” Baker thought. “I think around thirty thousand men, but I’m not quite sure.”

“Whoa,” Pinkie deadpanned. “I’ve got a lot of planning to do!”

> The Real Eagles
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.O.V-Baker
It felt good that we weren’t in danger anymore, but we still had to find a way home. My men and I had homes, family, and dreams back on Earth. There was still a war going on, and for all we knew, the operation had failed because we weren’t there. I’ll admit though, it’s nice to see such a calm and peaceful place; one untouched by war and unscarred by conflict. I guess nothing lasts forever.



September 18th

“Thank you for letting stay around town while we’re stuck here, Princess,” Baker said.

“It’s no trouble at all,” the white alicorn said. “And please, you can just call me Celestia.”

The message Twilight wrote explained the situation to Celestia, and included all the things Baker had told her. She had explained the situation to the residents of Ponyville; ensuring there wouldn’t be any unnecessary panic. She was currently hallway through a meeting with the leaders of the humans, Generals Maxwell Taylor and James Gavin, Colonel Sink, Lieutenant Colonel Cole, and several other high ranking officers. Also attending were the Elements, and the squad of soldiers that had made first contact with them.

“Well thank you for the help, Celestia,” Taylor replied. “Now, could we move on to the matter of returning us to our world?”

“Yes, if my student Twilight’s letter was accurate, you were in the middle of a war, correct?”

“Yes mam,” Gavin replied. “We were in the middle of a major operation.”

“Interesting,” Celestia said. “Well first, we must figure out how you got here in the first place. Did you see or do anything strange or out of the ordinary?"

The men thought it over for a minute. Each of them went through his memory, going through everything in the previous days from getting on the plane to now.

“Our formation did fly through an unnaturally large storm cloud, but nothing other than that,” Cole said.

“We flew through a massive black cloud, too,” Gavin stated, and each of the men recalled going through the same anomaly.

The princess thought for a moment before a sudden look of realization came onto her face.

“I do know of one possibility,” she said. “I have read of a rare form of large black clouds that have a strange magic to them; it gives them the ability to teleport anything that flies through them to a random spot. It could be a few feet or, in this case it would appear, to a new world entirely.”

“So you think this cloud acted as a doorway between our worlds?” Baker asked.

“I do not see any other explanation, but it does make the most sense. Your planes flew through it, dropped you off here, then flew back through,” she answered.

“That would explain why we can’t get in touch with any of our planes,” Sink said.

“So, can we just go back through the cloud?” Gavin asked, suggesting the most obvious answer.

“Can’t,” Taylor replied. “It dissipated after the last plane went back through.”

“Prin- I mean, Celestia; your student said your pegasi could control the weather, correct? Can’t you just make another one?” Gavin asked.

“I’m afraid not,” she answered. “Such clouds are a rare natural phenomenon. They have a strange, naturally occurring magic that allows this teleportaion. How one ended up in your world is beyond me; but like I said, they have not been seen often and we are still learning about them.”

The men’s heads fell in defeat.

“So, is there any way back home?” Sink asked.

Once again, Celestia stood silent in deep thought; mentally going through the list of spells she knew of.

“There is one spell I know that could send you back. It requires a large amount of magic, but by using the elements of harmony, I should be able to return you to your world.”

“Will we be in the same place as when we left?” Taylor asked.

“Yes, I should be able to return you to the exact moment in time and the exact place where you entered; everything will be as it was before.” Celestia said, a smile of hope entering the men’s faces. “It will take several days to prepare because of the size of your force, but I can find no other alternative.”

“Alright, then,” Sink said. “I guess we should just sit tight until-”

He was cut off by a low but noticeable round of pops. The sound didn’t stop, continuing unabated.

“You all hear that?” Cole asked. “It sounds like gunfire. Sirs, did you schedule any kind of weapons demonstration or practice?”

“No, I gave the order not to use weaponry,” Taylor said.

“Me too, I told my men not to use them unless they were in danger, and I’m pretty sure there’s no real danger in this town,” Gavin added.

As the men continued to ponder possibilities, a pegasus in golden Royal Guards ran into the room.

“Your highness, one of our patrols was ambushed by a force of Griffons!” he said, trying to catch his breath from the quick flight.

“What!?” Celestia said, trying to hide the shock of the new discovery to keep everyone/pony calm. “Calm down and explain exactly what is happening.”

“Well, we sent out a small force of five guards, including myself, to go and find a missing filly. We found her and were nearly back to town when we were attacked. The Griffon’s technology was for more advanced than our arrows; actually, they were quite similar to these ‘guns’ the humans used. One of us was killed and the rest were driven into a small, house in a nearby field. I was sent back to get reinforcements, the others are still stuck there.”

Celestia quickly went over her options and, after exhausting all of them, came to a conclusion. Being a leader meant making tough decisions, and not all were good or had a happy ending.

“There is nothing we can do,” she announced in a solemn tone.

“What!?” the guard yelled. “Forgive my tone, princess; but, there must be something!”

“I’m afraid there isn’t,” she replied. “We need to keep what few guards we have here in place in case they decide to attack the town.”

“Princess, let us go!” Twilight said. “We could use the Elements; it should be able to stop them!”

“I’m sorry, Twilight; but, the biggest weakness of the Elements of Harmony is that their magic can only work on other magic. These griffons are using conventional means. The six of you would not last long against them,” she told her student.

“But what about the young one!?” the messenger spoke up again. “What about the rest of my fellow guardsponies!?”

“I do not enjoy making this decision,” Celestia said, more sternly now. “I do not want to leave them to die, but we cannot spare anypony in case they attack the town. It could be a diversion to draw off our forces while a larger enemy moves in. I truly wish I could save them, but there’s no way we can.”

The men had been silent during all of this. Some were listening to the conversation; others were looking back on similar times and experiences from the war. One of those thinkers was Baker. 

He looked at the ground for a while, remembering all the events he had been through; all the men he’d seen lost because there was nothing he could do. He had never asked to be squad leader, but he made a promise that he would do everything in his power to protect lives; not just his men, but the lives of all who didn’t deserve an early death.

It all went through his head quickly. He knew all too well that each decision, especially in his line of work, has a consequence. Still, such important decisions are usually made in the blink of an eye.

“You can’t, but we can,” he said, standing up. “Sir’s, I know this doesn’t involve us, but I can’t sit by and watch people, or ponies in this case, die, especially when there’s a child at risk. With your, permission, I’d like to lead my squad on a rescue mission.”

The ponies were a rather surprised, but most of the men had a more serious, yet understanding look on their faces.

“Well sergeant, I’m not sure. This isn’t our fight and we don’t really know what exactly we’re dealing with; but, if you really feel like you have to, and if the princess will allow it, you can go,” Taylor said, turning to Celestia.

“Yes, can you help us?” Celestia asked, voice now quivering and tearful from the kind offer. “Please?”

“We’ll do what we can,” Baker said, grabbing his gear. “Can your messenger lead us back to the house where they’re pinned?”

“Yes,” the guard said. “It’s in a field outside of town.”

“Matt, thank you,” Baker heard a low voice and looked down to see Twilight standing next to him, nuzzling his leg. “But, please be careful.”

“We’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Remember, this isn’t my first fight.”

The men got their equipment in order and assembled near Baker.

“Alright guys, let’s get moving! We don’t have much time!” he ordered, assembling his troops near the door.

“Matthew, there is something I must warn you of,” Celestia said. “Transporting living things and physical material is one thing, but the transfer of deceased souls is something entirely different.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It means that if any of your men die here, then there is a they won’t return with you. I’m not even sure if the spell itself will work properly, as it is very complicated and unknown,” she warned.

“Well,” Baker thought about this for a moment. “I guess we’ll just have to be extra careful.”



The ten troops, along with the pony, moved along a small dirt path. Most of the area was field and some small hills, not giving much cover. Still there were some assorted pieces; some random fallen tree trunks, a wooden picket fence every now and then near some other small structures, and the stone walls that ran alongside both sides of the trail.

“The gunfire sounds like its closer now,” Courtland asked. “How much farther is it?”

“It’s just on the other side of that knoll,” the guard replied.

“What’s your name, anyways?” Baker asked.

“Quick Keeper,” he replied. “I’ve been in the guards most of my life; but I’ll admit, I never thought something like this would happen.”

“Nobody ever thinks it can happen,” Baker replied. “That’s why everyone is so shocked when it does.”

“Guys, hold up!” Corrion said. “I see something coming over the top of the knoll!”

Baker quickly surveyed the area and spotted two places where the stone wall broke off to the left and right. He quickly whispered his orders; Japser and the support team took cover to the right with him, the rest went left. The men held their fire, waiting for the enemy to come into full view.

Watching the top of the knoll, Baker spotted the enemy come over the top and continue on down towards his men. They really were griffons, about ten of them in two groups of five, moving single file down the path. Baker looked in closer to see their weapons; they were rifles alright, but they looked rather old as compared to their weapons. 

Baker’s men kept their heads down, waiting for an order. The griffons seemed extremely relaxed; perfect targets for an ambush. They came closer and closer, and the men took aim at individual targets. After a few more tense seconds, they came into grenade range. Baker continued to let the unsuspecting targets close in.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Baker gave the order of “Fire!” and the troops attacked. Some threw grenades while others fired their weapons. The initial volley of bullets, combined with the grenades exploding in the center of the group, took out all but two. These two survivors were able to duck behind a fallen log, but wouldn’t return fire from the shock of what just happened. Some sharp marksmanship from Baker’s M1 brought an end to their journey, as well.

“Alright, form up guys,” he ordered. “Reload and keep an eye out.”

“That was amazing,” Keeper said, “in a horrible sort of way.”

“It’s not as easy when you’re on the receiving end,” Zanovich replied.

Baker stopped to take a look at one of the griffons in the road. Inspecting it, he found a couple of bullets holes and a missing leg from the grenade explosion; no getting up from that. He picked up the fallen enemies’ weapon and inspected it closer. It looked quite identical to the old Winchester repeater rifles he had seen. Inspecting the body again, he also found a revolver sidearm. 

“Alright, let’s keep moving towards the house,” Baker said.

The troops moved up to the top of the knoll and spotted the house. It was a small, wooden, one story house that was surrounded and being shot at from all sides by some twenty griffons; five on each side. The stone wall made a large square, with the house being in the center. Occasionally, an arrow would fly out and strike the wall, not hitting its target.

Going prone with the rest of his men to avoid being seen, Baker surveyed the situation; there wasn’t any cover between them at the top of the knoll and the nearest stone wall, but the enemy still didn’t know they were there. On the farthest end, what looked like an early form of the Maxim machine gun was hammering away at the house. He also noted that the griffons seemed to be rather strong. That, combined with their ability to fly and their talons, told Baker that they had a slight upper hand in close combat.

“Ok guys, here’s what we’ll do,” he explained, taking a knee. “The closest cover is that stone wall. The enemies that are currently using it have their backs to us, so they won’t see us coming. On my mark, we’ll charge towards the wall, firing as we go, and take cover behind it. Once we’re there, I want Jas and the rest of the support to set up the thirty and keep their gun on the far side occupied. Zano, take the fire team and follow the wall down the left flank, eliminating the enemies there; Corrion I want you to do the same for the right. Both of you guys keep moving along the wall until you get into grenade range of that MG. Make sure to stay low. Keeper, you’re with me; we’re going to run to the house and make sure everyon-pony is okay.”

“Ok, I got it!” the guardspony replied; the rest of the men nodded their heads in understanding.

“Ok, on three, we move,” Baker whispered. “One,”

Franky and a few others got up from their prone position, taking a three point running stance as if they were about to make a play in a game of football.

“Two,”

McCreary took the opportunity to attach the bayonet to his beloved Garand rifle, while Keeper pulled out a small dagger; he had left the arrows for his bow with the others in the house.

“Three!”

The men immediately got up and started running, weapons at the ready, towards the target. They didn’t open fire at once, as the distance was nearly fifty or so feet and firing from the hip whilst running at this distance would only alert the enemy. Nor did they yell or shout, as this too would have done no more than seal their fate. 

Amazingly, the enemy didn’t take notice until they were thirty feet away; at which point they opened fire. The five griffons who had their backs to them didn’t notice the new contacts who were charging them over the noise of the battle. Four went down in seconds; the last turned around just in time to be harpooned in the chest by McCreary, who also fired a round into the chest before yanking his rifle free.

All eleven had made it to the wall without a scratch. Jasper and his team set up the gun and opened fire on the gun opposite; not hitting anything but certainly drawing the gunner's attention to him.

Zanovich took his three men and shuffled to their end of the wall. Readying his BAR, he peeked around the corner and opened fire on the line of five targets, killing three. The final two turned stood and prepared to fly away, but were both hit by Dawson and Franky. The three men, whilst still crouched, turned the corner and followed the wall until they were within throwing range of the machine gun and lobbed a grenade into its position, killing the two operators.

Corrion had a tougher time. He too flanked the enemy and killed three with his Thompson, but the final two decided to fight back. They took off and hovered near the soldiers, placing several rounds of their ball type ammunition dangerously close to their heads. Eventually, the team was able to shoot the down.

While this was happening, Baker and Keeper made a mad dash towards the house. The Pegasus flew through the front door, followed closely by Baker. They found one, a unicorn, dead from a shot to the head. The other two, normal earth ponies armed with bows, were both wounded, but alive.

“Keeper, thank Celestia you came back!” one of them said.

“Don’t thank me, thank the human here,” he replied, helping his comrade up. “He volunteered to come rescue you.”

“Thank you for coming to our rescue,” the other one said. “May I get your name?”

“Matthew Baker,” the sergeant replied. “Can you walk?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” he said, getting up and wincing in pain. “But, could you help the filly in the corner over there? She’s not hurt, just very scared.”

Baker looked over and saw a young, orange Pegasus with a purple mane curled up in a ball in the corner. Baker walked over to check on her.

“You okay?” he asked. The Pegasus looked up and instead of being afraid of the new creature, was in awe and curious of it.

“Whoa,…what are you?” she asked looking up at Baker.

“I’m a human; and don’t worry, I’m here to help you,” he replied. “You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”

“I’m okay,” she replied, “just a little scared.”

Baker picked the young Pegasus up and cradled her in his arms; walking out of the house and into the sunlight.

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about anymore; we took care of those bad guys,” Baker told her. “What’s your name?”

“Scootaloo, but you can call me Scoots if you like,” she said. “And thanks for saving us.”

“What were you doing here?” Baker asked.

“I was playing out here in this field yesterday when those griffons attacked. They kidnapped me and brought me back to their camp” Scootaloo explained. “They must have thought I’d just follow whatever they said, cause they didn’t bind me or anything. I was able to sneak away at night and that royal guard’s patrol found me in the morning. I guess the griffons followed us.”

Baker ordered his men to rally up and start marching back towards town.

“What’s your name?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’s Baker.”

“It’s different, I like it,” she continued. “Is this what you do for a job? Protecting ponies?”

“Yea, it’s something like that,” Baker replied. “We’re soldiers.”

“Hey, maybe me and my friends could get our cutie marks doing that!” Scootaloo exclaimed.

“What? What are those?”

“Oh, a cutie mark is something that appears on every pony’s flank when they discover what they’re special talent is,” she explained. “Me and my friends Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom haven’t found ours yet, so we formed the Cutie Mark Crusaders to help pones find their special talent!”

Baker realized that the marks, that he first thought were some kind of cultural tattoo, were also magic.

“Do you have a cutie mark?”

“Uh, not really,” Baker said.

“Hey, maybe you could join the CMC!” Scootaloo nearly yelled in excitement.

Baker chuckled a bit; he knew he probably wouldn’t get one, but decided to play along.

“Heh, okay kid; but, let’s get back to town, first.”



Getting back into town was rather difficult. Upon returning, they were swamped by dozens of cheering ponies and soldiers. Rainbow, upon seeing Baker carrying a safe Scootaloo, quickly flew up to the two and gave the two a crushing hug and knocking him onto his back. When the other five got through the crowd, they immediately piled onto the sitting soldier and nearly smothered him with hugs.

“Thank you soooo much, Matt!” Rainbow said. "You're so awesome!

“Yea, you saved Scoots and those guards!” Pinkie said. “You’re a hero!”

Baker smiled at this; he felt truly good. It wasn’t the first time he had been called ‘hero’ after everything he had done, but he had never really felt like it. This time, he felt different; he truly felt like a hero.

After everything settled down, the men made their way back to the town hall where Celestia and the officers had been waiting.

“I cannot thank you enough for rescuing my little ponies,” she said.

“We’re just doing our job, mam,” Zaonvich replied.

“Celestia, do you mind if we hold another meeting? There are some things I would like to find out,” Taylor asked.

“Of course,” she replied, opening the doors and letting the men pile in.

“Why were these griffons attacking your territory and how do they have guns?” Taylor asked.

“That is a bit of a long story,” Celestia replied. “Though they can fly, griffons do not have natural magic like our unicorns. This has casued them to strive for a technological advantage; especially in the military sense.”

“Kinda sounds like us,” Gavin commented.

“Griffons also tend to be…aggressive, so our two nations haven’t had the best of histories.”

“So, they want to take over your country with their new weaponry; why?” Gavin asked.

“I don’t have enough time to fully explain the details, but over time our relations with the Griffon Kingdom have…soured, to say the least,” Celestia admitted. “We have constantly asked them to cease aggressive actions against other nations, so they threatened to turn their aggression against us.”

“And you can’t stop them from taking over this whole nation?” Sink asked.

“We may not be as advanced, but we are strong enough to defend our country against them; they know they cannot take complete control of all of Equestria, so it seems they have decided to focus attacks this town instead,” Celestia explained.

“Why this little town?” Cole asked. “Is it some kind of terror attack?”

“Ponyville is actually an important transportation hub. It lies in between our capitol at Canterlot and the rest of the nation; all major roads run through this town,” Celestia explained. “Attacking and seizing the roads, or the town itself, would put an unbearable strain on our economy; we would then be at their mercy.”

Gavin pulled Taylor aside and spoke quietly for a minute. They went over some possible options, problems, and strategies. After a short time, they came back to face the princess.

“Princess Celestia, after speaking with my colleague, we would like to offer you our support in defending your nation and its residents,” Taylor said. 

“R-really?” Celestia said in shock. “Why?”

“Because what’s going on here is the same as back home; you’re a peaceful people coming under threat from a technologically advanced bully. We’d like a chance to stop it from going too far here, too,” Gavin explained.

“I can’t believe this; I can’t thank you enough,” she said through some tears.

“We’re just doing what we think is right,” he replied, the other men nodded in agreement. “But there are a few things we need to work out, first. One is of supplies and logistics; do you have any kind of factories for mechanical production?”

“We do have several factories, but they are spread out all over and mostly small. Most are in Detrot or Stalliongrad; but, they are easy to build or change. If you send some of your men to explain what you need and how to make it, we should be able to keep you supplied.”

“Alright, and I’m sure we’ve got enough supplies to last until then,” Taylor said.

“I do have one request, generals,” Celestia asked. “Even though your men came to the rescue, Ponyville’s residents seem to have been badly shaken by the attack. I would like to raise their spirits again by showing them that they are safe in your hands; perhaps by a demonstration?”

“A military parade to boost morale?” Gavin said. “I think we can do that.”

> Over by Christmas
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
I remember meeting all those happy French citizens when we liberated their towns. They were so thankful that their liberation had come. They treated us like heroes; it was basically the same thing during the parade in town.  But no matter how much parading us soldiers do, we always end up going back to war.


	
“Who does the army trust the most?”

“AIRBORNE!”

“Who do the ladies love the most?”

“AIRBORNE!"

“Who do the Nazis fear the most?”

“AIRBORNE!”

The troops from the 82nd and 101st marched by in perfect synchronization. A jeep or open topped truck carrying more soldiers would drive by. The troops waved to the onlookers every now and then.

The town’s pony residence, along with several soldiers, lined the streets; waving and cheering happily. Different colors of confetti and streamers constantly fluttered down. A cheerful, victorious tune was lightly playing. 

The soldiers happily offered to show the ponies their equipment. Several free joyrides were given by the jeep drivers, with the passengers yelling and laughing excitedly as if it were a roller coaster ride. Though they were restricted from using them, others looked over the weapons; from the small arms to the larger artillery guns. 

While his men were out doing their own things, Baker picked his way through the crowd investigating the town. It did feel nice to be appreciated; to be thanked for the work you did. It was also fun to see the look of pure awe on some of their faces.

“Hey, Mister Baker!” a familiar voice called him. He turned around to see Scootaloo with two other fillies; a white unicorn and a yellow earth pony.

“Hey Scoots, are these your friends?” Baker asked.

“Yea, this is Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom,” she said.

“Wow, so you’re the one who saved Scootaloo?” Sweetie said in her squeaky voice. “You must be really brave!”

“And you said you don’t have your cutie mark, neither?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Hehe, yea,” Baker said. “I believe I’m what you call ‘blank’.”

“So that means you can join!” Sweetie said.

“Oh, you mean that crusaders club you made?” Baker asked.

“Yea!” Scootaloo shouted. “Usually new members have to do pass a test and do an initiation ceremony, but you can be an exception since you saved me.”

“Here,” Sweetie said, taking something out of her saddlebag, “each member gets an official cape!”

Baker took the article of clothing in his hand; it was the same as the ones they were currently wearing. Examining it, he saw it clearly wouldn’t fit around his neck. In fact, it resembled more of an oversized handkerchief than something to wear at all; still, he accepted it gratefully.

“Matt Baker,” the three said in unison, “welcome to the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

“Thanks girls,” he said, smiling warmly and stuffing the would-be cape into his pocket. “I’ll keep this with me all the time; it’ll be a good luck charm.”

“So, you think you can help us get solderin’ cutie marks?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I uh, don’t think you’d enjoy doing my job; but, I promise I’ll help you when this is all over.”

“Oh, alright,” Scootaloo said in an sad tone. “What do you think your mark would be; I mean, you’ve got a job already, so what could your special talent be?”

“I’m not sure,” Baker replied. “Guess we’ll just have to find out, huh?”

“Yea!” Scootaloo shouted.

The rest of the men were out doing their own things. Franky had attracted the eye of one very appreciative, and curious, unicorn. The two leaned against a wall; Franky going on about how they were great soldiers, while the pony held his left hand in her hooves, constantly moving it around and staring obsessively at it.

“I just knew it! I knew you guys were real!” the unicorn said triumphantly. “You’re even better up close and in real life!”

“Yea, we’re kinda the big shots in the Hundred n’ First,” Franky boasted. “We save people’s asses and…you’re not even listening to me, are you?”

“No, I am,” the unicorn replied. “I think it’s real brave what you do. What’s your name, anyways?”

“Franky LaRouche,” he answered. “And you?”

“Lyra Heartstrings.”

Hartsock and Dawson, meanwhile, were walking through the crowd; talking about a more serious manner.

“The guys told me you were askin’ around about stuff that happened after D-Day,” Hartsock said. “Stuff about Leggett.”

“It was about anyone who touched that pistol,” Dawson replied. “They all died! For some reason it doesn’t seem to strike anyone else as extraordinarily odd!”

“It does,” Hartsock said. “They lost friends at what you’re pokin’ at. It’s not easy to talk about.”

“Why’s it so easy for you?” Dawson asked.

“Because I believe every damn word of it!” Hartsock said, walking off in another direction.

Corrion had been enjoying the parade, particularly the food the ponies offered; it was much better than what the troops had brought with them. Pushing through the crowd, he spotted Franky engaged in passionately kissing an aquamarine unicorn.

“Oh geez,” Corrion sighed, moving behind Franky, pulling him away, and began dragging him down the street. “Alright, loverboy, we gotta keep moving.”

“I’ll come back for you!” Franky called out to Lyra, who looked rather sad that they had been separated so soon.

Meanwhile, Baker, Hartsock, and Campbell were talking privately in a small café.

“Well, all we have to do is kick out some birds with outdated guns,” Hartsock said. “You think we’ll get home on time?”

“Sink said that the higher ups were already working out battle plans,” Baker responded. “If we do our part, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Besides, the princess said she could send us back to the exact time,” Campbell added. “What’s your hurry, Red?”

“I’d like to meet my daughter before she turns three,” he said, walking out of the café.

Towards the end of the celebration, the two division’s artillery batteries gave a 21-gun salute; they in turn were followed by a similar salute from the rifle teams. Each time the guns fire, the ponies jumped in excitement; not use to such noise and power.

“And for the finale,” Taylor announced from atop a wooden stage. “The 82nd band will perform our national anthem, the Star-Spangled Banner, followed by the 101st with ‘The Army Goes Rolling Along’.”

The men took parts on the small stage; barely enough room to fit them all. The crowd cheered before falling silent as the song started.

O say, can you see,
By the dawns early light,
What so proudly we held,
At the twilight’s last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars,
Through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, 
Were so gallantly streaming?

And the rocket’s red glare,
The bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night,
That our flag was still there!

O say does that star spangled
Banner yet wave?
For the land of the free
And the home of the brave!

The crowd applauded as the band stepped down to make way for the 101st’s men. Twilight moved to sit near Baker in the back.

“How did that become your national anthem?” she asked. “I mean, what was the writer’s inspiration?”

“It goes back to a war our country had with the British in 1812,” Baker began. “They sailed a fleet close to our port at Baltimore, but couldn’t take the town unless they first took the fort guarding it. They assembled a massive fleet to bombard the fort into submission. In response, the Americans made a massive flag to be flown from the center of the fort. The writer, Francis Scott Key, was on a British ship to negotiate a prisoner-of-war exchange when the bombardment started. He watched from the ship, and no one would know the outcome of the battle until morning. When the sun rose and the bombardment stopped, he saw that the flag was still flying over the fort. The British had to retreat because they exhausted their ammunition, and Key wrote down the lyrics there.”

“Wow, that’s hard to imagine,” Twilight said.

The two turned their attention back forward. The troops of the 101st took the stage and, once again, the crowd fell silent as the song began.

March along, sign a song, we’re the army of the free.
Count the brave, count the true, who have fought to victory.
We’re the army and proud of our name!
We’re the army and proudly proclaim!

First you fight for the right and to build the nation’s might;
And the army goes rolling along.
Proud of all we have done fighting till the battles won;
And the army goes rolling along.

Then it’s hi hi hey,
The army’s on its way!
Count off the cadence loud and strong!
For where e’re we go,
You will always know,
That the army goes rolling along.

Valley Forge, Custer’s ranks, San Juan Hill, and Patton’s tanks;
And the army went rolling along.
Minutemen from the start, always fighting from the heart;
And the army went rolling along.

Then it’s hi hi hey,
The army’s on its way!
Count off the cadence loud and strong!
For where e’re we go,
You will always know,
That the army goes rolling along.

Men in rags, men who froze, still that army met its foes;
And the army went rolling along.
Faith in God, then we’re right, and we’ll fight with all our might;
As the army keeps rolling along.

Then it’s hi hi hey,
The army’s on its way!
Count off the cadence loud and ONE! TWO! THREE!
For where e’re we go,
You will always know,
That the army goes rolling along.
KEEP IT ROLLING!

With another round of great applause, the festival ended. The crowd dispersed and returned to their homes. Baker got out of his seat, collected his belongings, and prepared to return to his tent.

“Oh, Matt,” Twilight called. “Do you have anything planned for tonight?”

“No, I don’t have any duties scheduled,” he answered. “Why?”

“Pinkie wanted to throw you and your squad a little party along with some of the town’s residence,” she said. “Can you come?”

“I suppose we could,” Baker said. “You mind if we bring Red and second squad?”

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Twilight said. “She said to be at Sugar Cube Corner for eight o’clock. See you there!”



“Uh, come again, Beans?” Paddock asked.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Franky explained. “Well, I guess, like, my mom, or something.”

“Uh, she don’t count,” Paddock said.

“Oh she counts,” McCreary stated. “Have you seen the pictures?”

“There’s pictures!?” Paddock said in surprise.

“Don’t let ‘em mess with you, Franky,” Courtland said. “I didn’t kiss a dame ‘till I was seventeen.”

“Yea, but, does this count?” Franky asked, “With her being a pony and everything?”

“My advice is to just let whatever happens, happen,” Courtland said. “Don’t get all worked up, don’t think a ton about it, just let everything fall into place.”

The men talked and joked over the events of the day as they walked to the party. Everything had gone off without a hitch. Indeed, the desired effect seemed to have been taken. The troops, one by one, entered the bakery, where the party had already started.

There was a large assortment of food spread around; about half of which the men couldn’t digest. Much of the noise came from the already chattering ponies. Along with the six they already knew, the troops saw a handful of other ponies they hadn’t met yet. The entire thing looked to be more of a small get-together-and-get-to-know-each-other affair; though the men preferred small after the long day.

“Hey guys!” Pinkie said, appearing from nowhere and startling the troops. “I hope you don’t mind the party being small; but, I figured you would all be worn out from parading all day.”

“You figured right,” Baker said. “I prefer small ones anyways, you get to know everyone, or pony, better.”

“That’s what I said, too!” Pinkie shouted.

Before Franky could get a good look at everything, he was pulled aside and into a crushing hug by Lyra.

“Hi Franky!” she said, pecking him on the cheek and causing him to blush. “Follow me; I want you to meet somepony.”

She dragged the speechless soldier over to an equally shocked, cream colored, earth pony.

"See Bon Bon? This is the human I was telling you about!” she said. “Franky, I want you to meet my roommate and best friend, Bon Bon.”

“Uh…hi,” Franky said gingerly; the earth pony just continued to stare with a look of disbelief.

Hartsock, whose mind had been on getting home most of the day, found a seat all to himself. He spent most of the time looking at his wedding ring, which he kept around his neck.

“What does that mean?” he looked over and saw Rarity sitting next to him. “That ring.”

“It’s my wedding ring,” Hartsock answered.

“You’re married?” Rarity asked.

“Yea, she’s back home. We love each other a lot; I really miss her,” he said. “We also had a daughter just before I left for basic training; God, I bet she’d love this place.”

“Oh that’s lovely!” Rarity squeed. “But, why do you keep it around your neck? I mean, I understand that I’m not familiar with your culture and all, but it looks like it belongs on one of your fingers.”

Hartsock showed her one of his hands; the fourth finger was about half the size of the others and much stubbier.

“My ring finger got shot off in France,” he told her.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear.”

“It’s alright; of all the things that could have happened, I consider myself lucky,” he said. “But yea, I keep it around my neck now. Erma would send me back here on my hands and knees if I lost the damn thing.”

“What about the scar on your face,” Rarity asked. “Is that from the war, too?”

Hartsock thought back to when he earned that scar; back when he was young and reckless.

“She’s my wife!” the drunken lumberjack yelled, running at Hartsock with a beer bottle, “How dare you touch my wife!”

“I uh…I’d rather not explain that one,” he told Rarity. “Let’s just say my wife made me a more peaceful man when I married her.”

Courtland had spent most of the party with McCreary, Zanovich, and Paddock. Though the only alcohol was some light wine, it proved to be enough to get his three friends a bit tipsy. Deciding to go off on his own way, he had just moved off before he was knocked flat on his back by something flying into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he heard what sounded like a girl say.

“Ah, crap,” he moaned, eyes shut tight. “It’s alright, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so so sooo sorry Mr. Human,” the voice said; Courtland felt his body being picked up and stood back up.

He opened his eyes to see just who had rammed him, finding the culprit to be a grey Pegasus with a blonde mane. What immediately caught his attention were eyes; they seemed to be a bit…off.

“It’s fine, really,” he reassured her. “It takes a lot more than that to kill me.”

“Sorry, my flying isn’t very good,” she said, “because my eyes are um…like this.”

“Hey, I told you its ok,” Courtland said. “I know you didn’t mean it, it’s just the way you are.”

“Thanks,” she said, now feeling a bit better. “I’m Derpy Hooves, the town’s mailmare.”

“Well that’s a nice name; mine is Jack Courtland,” he replied, reassure her. “Tell you what, how’s about we grab some food and sit down and talk a little; my friends are doing their own thing, anyways.”

“Do they have muffins?” she asked.

“Uh, yea I think there are some.”

“Oh boy! I love muffins!” she said happily.

The two found a quiet place to sit and talk about their worlds and what they’re lives were like. Derpy told him about her life and job carrying the mail, about her family, her daughter Dinky and the Doctor, and more than anything, muffins. Courtland recounted his life growing up in Richmond, Virginia and his favorite activity, baseball.

“And one day,” he said hopefully, “I’ll be the catcher for the New York Yankees.”

“Will you teach me how to play?” the Pegasus asked.

“Sure, I’ll teach you all,” he said happily. “And when the war’s over, we’ll play a big game; Ponyville vs. the 101st. Sound like fun?”

“Super fun!” she said happily.

Most of the remaining soldiers, including Baker, were sitting in a group, surrounded by multiple party goers. The men recounted their stories in Normandy to the group of attentive ponies; who sat and listened like young children would sit around a fire and listen to an old man tell a fairytale.

“But yeah, we caught a lot of fire coming down,” Baker said. “That combined with the weather, some miscalculations, and a bunch of other things broke up the drops.”

“We were scattered all over the countryside,” Corrion said. “Almost everyone was in the wrong spot.”

“FUBAR” McConnell commented.

“Yea, FUBAR,” Campbell agreed.

“What’s that mean?” Twilight asked. “Is it an acronym for something?”

“Kinda,” McConnell said. “It’s, uh…German!”

The sudden explanation caused the men to chuckle a bit, and Twilight to raise an eyebrow like they were hiding something. When the storytelling ended and the group disbanded, Baker was approached by a grey earth pony wearing a pink bowtie.

“Thank you for everything you are doing for us,” she said. “It’s really quite kind of you.”

“It’s just what’s right,” Baker said. “And who might you be?”

“My name is Octavia,” she replied. “I’m a musician.”

“Oh, do you play in a band?” Campbell asked.

“I play in an orchestra,” she answered. 

“What instrument do you play?” Baker asked.

“The cello.”

“Wait, how can you without fingers?” Roselli asked. “How the hell can any of these ponies do the things they do without fingers?”

Before she could answer a loud voice rang out.

“Hey Tavi! Did you find those soldiers yet?”

“Yes, Vinyl; over here!” she called to a white unicorn with a neon blue mane. “Mr. Baker, and everyone else, this is my friend and fellow musician Vinyl Scratch.”

“Nice to meet you,” Baker replied. “And what instrument do you play?”

“I’m a DJ,” Vinyl replied.

“Do you play any jazz?” Campbell asked.

“Uh, no I mostly play dubstep,” she said. “It’s kind of like an electronic music.”

The men were silent; having a hard time wrapping their heads around this.

“Anyways, we wanted to ask you about the kind of music you have in your world,” Vinyl continued.

“Yes, my friend Rarity told us about that strange song you were singing while you drove through the forest,” Octavia said. “The way she described it made it sound like a very…peculiar type of music.”

“Well we do have several types of music,” Baker said. “But, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of any kind of electronic music.”

“So you can make music out electricity?” Corrion asked. “Well, what does it sound like?”

“Want me to show you?” Vinyl offered before being stopped by her friend.

“Vinyl, you said I could play for them first!”

“When did I say that?” Vinyl asked. “Besides, they already have orchestra in their world; why not give them something new?”

“New doesn’t necessarily mean good,” Octavia replied angrily.

“I thought you guys were friends,” Baker said.

“We have been since we were fillies,” Octavia said. “But I just can’t stand Vinyl’s music; always blaring it in the morning so it floods the whole house and wakes me up in my room. It gives me such a headache when I get up!”

“I play it because it’s energetic; it gets me moving!” Vinyl replied. “The classical music you always play is so slow and old; if you played that in the morning, it would just make us fall back asleep!”

While the two were arguing, Dawson made his way to an unused record player sitting in the corner and placed one of his pieces on it.

“I swear Octy, you just can’t adjust to the new times, can you?” 

“Vinyl-”

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” yelled a now fully drunken McCreary. “Hey guys, you hear that?”

The men listened as a low tune played in the air. It got louder and louder and the words became clearer. A smile broke out on the men’s faces as they quickly began to sing along.

It’s a long way, to Tipperary,
It’s a long way to go!
It’s a long way to Tipperary,
To the sweetest girl I know!

Goodbye Piccadilly,
Farewell Leicester Square!
It’s a long, long way to Tipperary
But my hearts’ right there!



Luna watched the night sky from her balcony. It was beautiful as always; the stars and moon shining, and unhidden by clouds. As ruler of the night, it was her job to create such scenes.

It was also her job to watch over pony’s dreams. Should one have a nightmare, she would enter the dream and adjust it to make it more comforting. This nightmare; however, was different.

The first time the human had a nightmare, she decided against Intervening. She wasn’t sure if she should enter the new creature’s dreams; especially when she didn’t have a clue what they were about. Still, she sensed a great horror in it and, due to this, vowed that she wouldn’t allow this human to suffer from it under her watch.

She sensed a bad feeling coming from his mind. It was similar to the feeling from the first dream, one of horror and sadness. She closed her eyes and focused her mind, entering Baker’s dream world.

At first there was white, but everything came into being. She was standing on top of a large structure in the middle of a town. There was a narrow stone walkway; on its sides stood short stone walls, one of which had an opening. There were five human soldiers standing on the walkway; one of which was Baker.

“Which is why I say we break out the champagne!” the one closest to the opening said.

“Where do you think we’re gonna get champagne, Obi?” another one asked. “Leggett lobbed a grenade into the only place in town with liquor.”

“Well, we’ll get some when this is over!” he said.

There was a brief moment of silent before everything happened at once. ‘Obi’s chest exploded outward and sprayed Baker with blood. The body fell backwards, through the opening, and over the side.

“Obi!” the one with red hair yelled before ducking behind the wall.

Baker also ducked behind the wall and in the process, spotted Luna.

“What?” he said.

Unlike what happened with Twilight, the dream froze instead of disappearing; only Luna and Baker were moving.

“Do not be afraid, Matthew Baker. We shall help thou remove this awful dream!”

The shouting from the princess’s voice nearly sent Baker over the edge.

“Christ, do you have be so loud!?” he asked.

“Oh, my apologies,” she said, blushing slightly from embarrassment. “I am still trying to get use to modern language. Every now and then I find myself using the Royal Canterlot Voice by accident.”

“So, who are you and what’s your reason for invading my dreams,” Baker asked with a hint of aggravation. 

“I am Princess Luna, ruler of the night,” she replied. “And it is my duty to ensure every creature has comforting dreams, including you.”

“Luna, you were the one Twilight mentioned,” Baker said. “The one that was sent to the moon, correct?”

“Y-yes that was me,” she said. “But if you don’t mind, I would rather not talk about it.”

“Oh sure, sorry,” Baker replied. “Now what’s this about my dreams?”

“I sensed a horrific feeling from your nightmare; and, now I see why,” Luna said. “Was that one of your soldiers?”

“Stephan Obreiski,” Baker said solemnly. “He was hit by a sniper before we heard the shot; never found his body.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Luna said. “But, that is why I have come; to fix your dream so that you may sleep peacefully.”

Baker thought this over for a moment before turning back to her.

“Thanks, but can you just leave them like this?”

“What!?” Luna shouted. “Why would you want to keep such a horrible dream!?”

“To remind me of all the men I lost,” Baker said, “and to remind me to not lose anyone else.”

“Well, you certainly have an odd way of doing things, Matthew Baker,” Luna said. “So, does this mean all your dreams are like this one?”

“I can’t remember the last time my dreams weren’t about everything that happened in Normandy,” Baker replied. “Maybe after the war is over, they’ll stop; I doubt it though.”

“So, you are sure you want this to remain?”

“Yea, I’m sure,” Baker said. “But thanks anyways.”

“Very well, I’ll let you continue,” Luna said. “But if you ever wish for them to stop, I will be available.”

“Thank you, princess.”

Luna left in a flash of light and the dream resumed. Baker grabbed his sniper rifle and took aim.

> Five-Oh-Sink
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
I never asked to be squad leader, but I had no choice. In Normandy I had thirteen soldiers under my command. Thirteen men depended on me to make the right decisions and not get them killed. Thirteen families relied on me to bring their husbands and sons home. Thirteen. Thirteen is not a lucky number. I failed seven of those men. I’ll be damned if I fail any of these before I get them back home.



September 20th

Sink, Cole, Mac, Baker, and several other officers were standing over a map of their target are in a tent, going over the battle plan. The griffons had already seized most of the roads leading to Ponyville. Today would mark the beginning of the battle to reclaim them. 

They were about to begin when Twilight entered the tent. She was followed by a larger, white unicorn stallion.

“Matt, I want you to meet my brother, Shining Armor,” she said. “He’s the captain of the Royal Guards.”

“I just wanted to thank you in person for saving my guards,” he said. “And ask if I could watch you plan the battle.”

“Why do you want to know our battle plan?” Cole asked. “Are planning on helping us?”

“I’m afraid most of my guards are busy dealing with griffon incursions elsewhere,” he said. “But, I figured seeing experienced leaders do it would be a good learning experience.”

“Wait, so you’ve never even lead troops into battle?” Mac asked. “Great, talk about SNAFU.”

“Is that another of those German words?” Twilight asked, causing Mac to give her a confused look. “I asked a soldier who spoke German and he just laughed at me.”

“Uh, let’s just get back to the briefing,” Mac suggested. “Col. Sink, what’s the plan, sir?”

“Well, we’ve noticed that while the town is the major center, there are several small, unnamed concentrations of buildings spread out along the roads; they’re quite similar to the hamlets in France.”

“That’s good news,” Baker said. “We’ll have some sort of experience to go on.”

“Yea, this particularly large cluster right here sits on a river next to a wooden bridge,” Sink said, pointing to the map. “We’ve given it the codename Carolina.”

“And you want us to take it and the bridge, right sir?” Cole asked.

“That’s right,” he responded. “I’ve already asked artillery to fire a short but intense barrage before the attack. We’re also operating heavily in other sectors today, so there’ll be no reinforcements available; but, I’m going to lend you Easy company from one of my battalions in the 506 to assist. And one more thing; we’ve been receiving sporadic mortar and artillery fire lately. We do have reason to believe they have 8 or 12 Pounder cannons and howitzers. If you find any, take them out. Good luck, Cole.”

“Yes sir,” Cole responded. “Ok, we’ll send Fox in to take the town with Easy. We’ll split up our platoons so we’ll have one moving down each flank to cover the center one’s assault. We’re going to try a broad front advance. Baker, since your squad’s already seen combat against these creatures, your platoon gets the honor of playing center.”

“Yes sir,” Baker replied.

Stepping outside, he saw the men gathering their gear. Some of the men were talking with their new friends. Franky seemed to be trying to calm down his new girlfriend, or marefriend as Baker had learned.

“You got let me go at some point,” Franky said while Lyra grappled him in a hug.

“You promise you’ll come back?” she asked.

“I promise,” he said.

“And in one piece?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. 

“Alright, but you’d better come back,” she said, kissing him and finally releasing her hug.



The men moved through the woods quietly in the direction of the town. It was a clear, warm day with good visibility. Upon coming closer, they heard the impact of artillery shells hitting their targeted area in the village. Coming close to the tree line, the village came into view. There was a short distance of open fields that separated the forest and village, with the only cover being a small shack. 

The men stopped moving in columns and spread themselves out; crouching and moving to the tree line and taking cover behind the trunks. While the other troops kept watch, a squad of men from Easy ran out of the tree line and towards the nearest building in the village; a three story café.

Suddenly, a machine gun opened fire from the bottom window, killing two men and forcing the other two to take cover behind the shed. Small arms fire also opened up from the top windows; focusing on the troops taking cover in the forest, who took cover behind the various tree trunks.

“Hey, where the fuck is everybody!?” the sergeant hiding behind the shed yelled upon seeing that him and the other soldier were alone and pinned in the open. “Where did everybody go!?”

“I have no idea!” the soldier replied.

“Christ we gotta get the assault moving!” one of the sergeants yelled, trying to get his men up. “We can’t afford to get pinned down here!”

Baker quickly thought of a solution.

“Jasper!” he called out. “Bring up the bazooka!”

The gunner and his loader moved up to one of the farthest trees. Jasper holstered the large green tube, which he named Stella, after his girlfriend. He shouldered it and took aim while Connor loaded a round into the back.

“Target MG!” Baker called out, spotting for him. “In that café! Bottom floor, left window!”

“I got him!” Jasper replied.

“Take him out!” Baker replied.

“Firing!”

The rocket flew out of the launcher, across the field, and into its intended target. There was a large explosion where the window was and the clearing smoke revealed a large hole. The shooters on the upper floors must have been stunned by this new weapon, as they stopped firing as well.

“Ok, everyone move! Now!” one of the sergeants yelled.

“Third squad, move in!” Baker ordered.

“Second squad, go!” Harstock ordered.

“Easy and Fox, move in and secure the buildings,” a nearby Lieutenant ordered. “Watch yourself in close quarters!”

The troops hustled across the field and towards the town. One of the surviving griffons tried to run out the front of the café, but was shot by an Easy Company soldier. Another Easy trooper threw a grenade into the top floor.

“Ok, let’s keep advancing down the main road through town,” Baker told Hartsock. “We have to get to the bridge!”

The men moved down the street while the Easy soldiers cleared out the houses. There was a constant sound of weapons firing. The men moved from cover to cover; always at the ready and getting the better of a few enemies that popped out of the buildings during their advance.

About halfway through town, they saw another squad from another Easy platoon advancing close by down the left flank. Suddenly, there was a loud crack and one of the men fell dead. Most of the squad ran into the safety of a nearby alley. One soldier, being too far away, dived for cover behind a picket fence. 

“Sniper!” one of the men yelled as the Fox men found their own cover.

The sniper singled out the soldier near the fence, and bullets began to tear his cover apart.

“Ah, shit!” he yelled. “Help!”

“Sergeant, can you take out the sniper!?” the Easy squad leader yelled to Baker.

“Where is he?” Baker asked.

“He’s in that small bell tower near the market square!”

“Jas, you see the bell tower?” Baker asked.

“I got it, sarge!”

“Ok, topple it!” Baker order.

Jasper fired the rocket, which hit its target. The top of the spire collapsed and fell backwards. The rest was seen to catch fire.

“Thanks!” The Easy sergeant said before turning to the private. “You okay?”

The relieved soldier gave a smile and a thumbs up.

Baker and his men moved towards the market square. It was a large, rectangular, two story building. Baker sent the assault team to enter through a rear exit on one side while he and the fire team entered through the front.

Zanovich and Dawson stacked up on both sides of the door. Dawson readied a grenade and Zanovich readied his BAR. Baker gave the order and Zanovich kicked the door down before spinning back to his side of the wall. Dawson tossed a grenade in and, upon hearing an explosion and muffled screams, the four men entered. Franky shot a wounded one that was trying to get up and Zanovich got one that was coming down the stairs. They heard muffled explosions and gunfire from the room on the other side of the building before someone spoke.

“Matt, we’re coming through the door,” Corrion said. “Hold fire.”

The squad regrouped and took a tally; ten enemies dead, five in each room.

“Alright, go ahead and clear out the top floor,” Baker ordered.

“You herd the man!” Corrion said. “Let’s move!”

Baker was going to join them when he noticed something familiar on a nearby table. He stopped and walked over to it slowly. Picking them up, he couldn’t believe what he was holding. 

They were a pair of glasses; specifically, glasses that had belonged to one private Kevin Leggett. All the memories came flooding back; what happened with Leggett and his death at Hill 30. But, how did they end up here?

A large explosion and the shattering of windows reminded him of where he was. It also reminded him of what Sink had told him about the artillery. The rest of his men came jogging down the stairs.

“Upstairs clear sir,” Zanovich reported.

“Alright, now all we have to do is take the bridge,” Baker said. “Move out!”

As the troops in the town converged on the bridge, a dug in 12 pounder cannon on the other side began to lob high explosive cannonballs at them. They also came under heavy return fire from across the river. 

“Keep moving!” an officer yelled. “We can’t get bogged down here!”

Baker was taking cover in a house by the doorway. Looking over he saw Hartsock taking cover behind a wagon closer to the bridge. Taking a deep breath, he ran out the doorway and across the road. A soldier was hit and fell down in front of Baker, but he hopped over and continued; barely reaching the cover with Hartsock.

“I count fifteen, maybe sixteen to the bridge!” Hartsock yelled. “Not to mention that arty lobbing shells at us! There’s no telling when the Colonel will show up!”

“I think, with both our squads, we can put enough fire on them to push them back until he does,” Baker said. “On three.”

“Three!” they both yelled.

The men ran towards the bridge, still taking heavy fire. As they got closer to the bridge, there was a massive explosion and wood went flying everywhere. Baker was knocked on his back; one of the larger, sharper pieces of wood landing in front of him and nearly impaling him. Hartsock helped him back on his feet.

“You spend more time on your back than Paddock’s sister,” he joked.

“Fuck you, Red!” Paddock replied.

“Sonuvabitch!” they turned around to meet a very unhappy Col. Sink. “Get across that river and take that artillery and secure the goddamn area!”

Looking closely at the river, they saw the water was about waist high, so they decided to cross on foot.

“Let’s move!” Hartsock yelled. 

Troops waded into the water and attempted to get across. They came under heavy fire from the other side. Some troops were hit; with the soldier in front of Baker getting hit in the head. Some of the men took cover behind the debris in the river and returned fire.

Mortars also came into play now. The first round was close, landing a ways away. The second was closer, knocking a few troops down. The next round found a target, sending a soldier’s body flying before it fell back into the river. The final round was closest; it hit and killed a group of three soldiers and caused Baker to lose his balance and fall under the blood-strewn waters. As he got back, he could have sworn he saw Leggett’s glasses float by.

As the men exited the river, the first initial cover was a long wooden fence. They quickly pushed forward and secured better cover in the form of a stone wall. The main target was the artillery and mortars, dug in deep in the center of the road in between some houses. Jasper tried to hit it with a rocket, but it hit the dirt instead. It was also protected by MG’s, so rushing it was not an option.

“Red, can you clear the houses while we deal with the artillery?” Baker asked.

“Yea, we’ll handle it.”

“Alright, Zano,” Baker said. “You and the support team lay down fire and keep them occupied! Corrion, you’re with me!”

The two teams fired heavily on the dirt and sandbag emplacement while Baker and the assault team ran towards one of the houses flanking it. The artillery did try to fire directly on them; luckily, its aim wasn’t very good. The four troops sprinted to the side of the house and, after seeing it was clear, climbed through a window.

While McCreary and Courtland checked upstairs, Corrion and Baker moved to a window close to the emplacement. They spotted an opening and both readied a grenade.  Baker opened it quietly and the two tossed the explosives into the hole. There was a large explosion and the entire enemy position turned into a black hole in the ground; apparently the grenades had found the artillery’s ammo boxes.

More men mad it across the river. The rest of the houses were cleared. The remaining griffons ran a short ways outside to try and fly away. A machine gun team form Easy got into a position in a window by a house. Firing mercilessly at the running targets, they got about half of the group before the rest took off.

The troops regrouped and reorganized. Baker and Hartsock walked to the bridge to examine the damage. It was completely gone; no salvaging.

“How you gettin’ back across the river?” Sink yelled to Baker and Hartsock from the other side.

“What did he say?” Baker asked.

“Dunno,” Hartsock replied. “My ears are still ringing.”

They made some hand gestures asking Sink to repeat the message.

“How the sam hell you getting’ back across the river?”

“Ok, that time I definitely heard ‘liver’; maybe he’s drunk,” Hartsock joked. “We’ll just swim back across the liver sir!”

“Ok,” Sink replied.



The troops returned triumphantly to their camp on the outskirts of Ponyville. Though the bridge had been destroyed, it could be replaced. Also, they had seized the area and bested their enemy in a real battle. 

Moving back in, they arrived in time to see the end of what looked like a magic show. It didn’t surprise Baker much; the ponies had been doing all sorts of things to show their gratitude since the troops arrived. What surprised him was that the magician, a blue unicorn with a cape and an odd hat, trotted up to where he sat when it was all over.

“That was quite a show you put on,” Baker said. “At least from the parts I saw.”

“But of course,” she replied. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is the best magician in Equestria, after all.”

“Well, this one’s humble," Baker sarcastically thought.

“You are the leader of those soldiers who rescued the guards, correct?” she asked. 

“Yea, that was my squad,” he said. “The name’s Baker.”

“You and your men seem to get a lot of praise for what you do,” she continued. “Everypony holds you as heroes.”

“Well, I guess if everyone say’s we’re heroes, then I suppose we are,” Baker said. “Anyways, is there something you wanted to ask me?”

“Yes,” she replied. “The Great and Powerful Trixie would like to offer her assistance and join your unit.”

“What?” Baker replied, confused.

“To fight with you.”

“Oh,” Baker said. “Well that’s kind of you, but we can take care of ourselves. I really don’t think you could help much; you haven’t seen combat, aren’t trained, unequipped, and you’d only be putting yourself in danger.”

“What!?” she yelled. “Trixie is more than capable of taking care of herself. In fact, Trixie could be the best soldier in your unit!”

“What’s with the speaking in third person?” Baker wondered. “Must have to do with her ego.”

“Look, I think you’re overestimating yourself and underestimating the challenge,” Baker said. “In war, it gets bad; real bad.”

“Trixie is not afraid,” she said confidently. “She could easily help win your battles and the recognition that goes with them.”

She probably shouldn’t have said the last part.

“Wait, that’s what you’re after!?” Baker said. “You’re looking for medals and glory; not fighting for what’s right or the men besides you!”

“And?” Trixie added. “Trixie wants the recognition she deserves; and a war seems to be the best place to do so.”

“The one’s like you are usually the ones who want to go to war the most,” Baker said, “and you’re usually the one’s getting shot first.”

The two shared a cold stare and a long silence.

“Alright, I know there’s a spell that lets you look at my dreams,” Baker said. “You wanna see what real war is like? Come and see what I dream about every night and you’ll see.”

“Fine, Trixie will!” she said.



Sure enough, she decided to take up Bakers offer. Walking up to where he was sleeping, she readied the spell to teleport her into the dream world; seeing his face twitch gave her the sign that he was having a nightmare. For a moment, she thought about walking away; but, she decided against it.

Launching the spell, she found herself in Baker’s dream. There were six soldiers standing next to a building, one of which was Baker. Another lay on the ground; his hands were wrapped around his thought where he had been shot while he squirmed and turned in the dirt.

“C’mon Rivas, look at me,” one said, trying to help.

“That shot wasn’t far off!” another yelled. “We gotta go!”

“He’s not even dead yet, hang on!” the other replied.

“Obi! Zano! Let’s move!” the red haired one ordered.

“What are you doing!?” asked the crouching one.

“I’m saving your ass!” 

The soldier on the ground stopped twitching and lay still on the ground.

“Fuck,” the crouching soldier sighed. “Let’s go.”

She proceeded to watch Baker and his men fight their way through a swamp. Baker, equipped with a sniper rifle, took out most of the Germans there. They hustled under a stone bridge where two other soldiers waited; one she recognized as the Lt. Col. Cole she had heard about.

“This is it; one squad!?” he yelled. “Well shit; today’s as good a day to die as any! If we’re gonna make it up this goddamn causeway alive, we’re gonna have to lay suppressive fire on those Krauts. There’s a helluva lot of Germans out there; and from what I gather they don’t like us too much.”

Cole stood up and the men formed up behind him.

“Let’s go!” he shouted. “Follow me and don’t stop shooting!”

All troops ran up from under the bridge and onto the road. They came under small arms and mortar fire from another swamp to the right. They didn’t stop sprinting; returning fire towards the swamp as they ran along. 

Eventually, they made it to the other side safely; where several others were waiting. There was another bridge, but this one was blocked by a gate. The men had to squeeze through one at a time. 

“If you wanna live, you’d better suck it in and squeeze through that gate!” a soldier yelled.

The troops began to move through; including one of the men from Baker’s squad. Over the noise of the battle, there was a humming and screaming noise. Two planes flew into the area, aiming for the bridge and releasing a large weapon. 

“Desola, look out!” Baker yelled.

There was a large explosion and the dream went to black, but didn’t end.  Slowly, the world came back into being. It was morning; and, it was completely quiet. Baker had been knocked out and had been lying on the bridge. His red haired squad mate woke him up.

“Take it easy; you’ve been out for a while,” he said, helping him up.

“Geez I thought you were dead,” the second soldier said. “Matt, Desola didn’t make it.”

The men gathered around the remains of their dead comrade. His entire torso had been blown open; as if a grenade had exploded from inside his chest. The ground around was littered with his innards and blood painted the ground red. The rest of the body, if it could be called that anymore, was blackened.

“It doesn’t make sense,” the red one said. “It doesn’t make any goddamn sense!”

“We gotta go red,” the other soldier said. “Red! We gotta go.”

The men got up and walked slowly down the highway.



Trixie couldn’t take any more after that. She ended it all right there; coming back to the real world with only a look of disbelief on her face. Baker woke up calmly, opening his eye and slowly sitting up.

“Still want to go to war?” 

“N-no” she quivered. “I’m s-sorry about everything I said.”

“It’s ok,” Baker said. “I was shocked the first time, too. You just keep doing what you’re already good at.”

“Yea,” she replied. “I think I’ll stick to magic.”

> The Four Fs 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
Private Johnny Rivas loved to draw in his spare time. He drew everything he saw so he wouldn’t forget; hell, he told us that he jumped with more pencils than ammo. In the four days he wandered the French countryside before finding us, he drew dozens of sketches of the beautiful land. Now, I can only imagine what he’d draw here.



September 22nd

At the camp, Baker and his troops were talking with the six elements; except for Applejack, who was sitting by herself in deep thought. She was grateful for everything the men were doing, but there was something about Baker she didn’t like. She could tell he was hiding something; something important.

“You alright?” a voice next to her asked.

She looked up to see Dawson standing next to her. 

“Yea, I’m alright,” she replied. “Say, you mind if I ask you somethin’?”

“Not at all,” Dawson replied, taking a seat next to her. “Ask away.”

“Your partner, Baker, he acts kinda strange,” she said. “Is he always like that?”

“Sometimes he’s a normal lad,” Dawson said. “But, other times I see him starin’ off into space like a bloke whose mind’s just been erased.”

“Do you know why he does that?” she asked. “I know it’s partly cause of everything ya’ll went through; but, he looks like he's keepin’ a secret. You got any idea?”

Dawson was more interested now; going into his serious tone.

“I think I know what you see,” Dawson said. “Tell me, Applejack; do you believe in fate?”




The camp was, once again, buzzing with activity. The division was launching more operations today; both to take control of the roads and defend those parts that were already captured. Baker and his men were receiving their orders from Mac.

“Now there’s a farmhouse down the road a bit; that MG’s been wreaking havoc on anyone that tries to get by. The farmhouse stands in front of a small stone bridge, so we need to take it to take the bridge,” Mac explained. “The griffons will probably have patrols on the outer perimeter. Most of the area leading up to it is bocage; there’ll be plenty of cover between the fallen logs, walls, trees and the like. Watch your flanks and make sure as hell those crows are getting hit on theirs.”

“Alright squad, fall in for a sec,” he called to his men. “Ok, we’re looking at a more open battlefield today; you all remember the Four Fs?”

Baker was referring to the tactics that they used to combat the enemy. Step one; locate, or find, the enemy. Step two; lay down suppressive fire and pin, or fix, the targets. Step three; get around the target, or flank, and get a clear shot. Step four; open fire, or finish, the enemy on his unprotected flank.

“Yea, we all got it, sarge.” Jasper replied, picking up his thirty.

It was early in the morning; with the sun just coming up. The sky was a mix of bright orange and red. Starting along the road slowly, everything seemed calm at first. As they got closer to their target, they became more alert and tightened their formation. They knew the enemy was close by.

The troops hustled down the road towards their objective. After moving a short way, they came across two teams of griffons who were standing guard. The machine gun team set up on a small pile of sandbags while the fire team took cover behind an overturned wagon. The griffons spotted them and took cover behind their sandbag cover on the left and right of the road.

The two stationary teams fired heavily on the targets, pinning them and trapping them behind their cover. Baker led Corrion and the assault team through some bushes to the right. Covered from site by a short hedge, the men moved up and emerged behind their enemies. They immediately opened fire and killed the targets.

Baker called for the fire and support teams to come forward when mortars began to fall sporadically, not hitting any of the men. Several patrols of griffons also came forward to attack. 

Baker ordered his men to take cover along a long stone wall that ran off to the right of the road. Two teams of griffons took cover in the hedgerows right in front of them. Jasper returned fire, trying to keep them pinned. 

One team ran out and to the team’s right and took cover behind a fallen log, trying to flank them. Baker ordered the fire team to the end of the wall and suppresses them. Zanovich carried out the action and, with heavy fire, prevented the enemy’s move.

Baker took Corrion and the assault team back across the road and to the left; attempting their own flanking maneuver. The griffons also caught this and sent another team to stop them. The humans took cover behind a picket fence, while their enemies took cover behind a long mound of dirt.

Now with all his men engaged, Baker ordered Corrion to suppress the team across from them while he continued along the fence. Reaching the end a good ways from the enemy, he spotted a lone wagon parked perpendicular to the enemy and a bit behind their lines. Focusing on it, he got up and sprinted to it; luckily, the griffons were distracted by his team’s fire and didn’t notice.

Baker took out his M1 Carbine and tilted past the edge of the weapon. Taking careful aim, he proceeded to snipe the unsuspecting enemies one by one. A few tried to get up turn to engage while others tried to run; Baker’s squad got any that tried to slip through. 

Again reforming his troops, Baker continued to lead them down the road. When they neared the farmhouse, they moved off the road and into some of the forest to their right. Using this cover, they came close to the farmhouse and looked it over.

It was a large, two story building that was on the left of the road, right in front of the bridge. There was a hole on the second floor corner facing the road where the machine gun was placed. Even though the griffons stationed there had been alerted by the combat, they must have thought that their allies had taken care of the threat because they were still relaxed a bit.

“Ok guys, here’s the plan,” he whispered. “Jasper, you open fire on that MG and keep it occupied. The rest will follow me across the road. There’s another stone wall running parallel to us and goes on until it hits a hedgerow that makes a turn towards the river; when we get to it, I want the fire team to take cover open up on any crows that are behind the farmhouse. Corrion and the assault team will follow me to the hedge and try to flank them. Make sure to use grenades if you’re in range. Everyone ready?”

“We’re ready,” Jasper said, mounting his gun on the long dirt hedgerow that was covering them.

“Ready,” Zanovich reported.

“Ready,” Corrion finished.

“Ok, let’s go!”

Jasper opened fire, taking the griffons by surprise but not enough to shock them. They quickly manned the gun, but not before Baker and his group ran across the road. Zanovich and his team stopped about midway along the wall and opened fire on a group of three griffons guarding the back; killing two and sending the last one into cover behind a well. Corrion, Baker, and the rest moved along their hedgerow; quickly flanking the remaining griffon and tossing grenades into the house, killing any remaining enemies.

“Everyone fall in and take defensive positions inside, quick!” Baker called out. “Jasper, move you MG to that window and cover the bridge! Holden, call Mac and tell him we’ve secured the objective!”

“Yes, sir!” Holden replied.

The ten troops ran inside and took up position in a window or opening, fully covering all sides. 

“Sir, I’ve got some bad news!” Holden reported to Baker from his position on the top floor.

“What is it?”

“Sergeant Hassay says more enemies have infiltrated and reoccupied the positions we just cleared. We’ve been cut off!”

“Damn it!” Baker hissed to himself.

“He says the he’s trying to break back through but he’s having trouble,” Holden continued. “Until he arrives we can expect heavy attacks from all sides.” 

“Is there any good news?” Baker rhetorically interrupted him.

“Yes sir,” Holden replied. “We’ve been priority in the sector, so we have artillery and mortars standing by. I’ll be able to spot from my position up here.”

“At least there’s that,” Baker replied. “Ok, direct it against large groups or enemies in cover. Everyone hunker down and grit your teeth, we’ve got a lot of bad guys coming at us.”

Baker took the opportunity to man the abandoned griffon machine gun himself, since all the windows and openings were occupied. It was quiet as the men watched and waited; save for the distant chatter of small arms fire that was gradually coming closer, signaling them that rescue was on its way.

However, it wouldn’t come in time to spare the group from attack. After a few minutes, mortars came down around the farmhouse; thankfully, the walls were thick, so nothing collapsed and no shrapnel found its mark. It stopped after a few rounds and was soon replaced by loud war screeches by the griffons as they moved in towards the house. 

Another advantage with the paratroopers was that the area on the other side of the river was all fields, so line of sight was good for small arms. Holden called down fire on the advancing groups, and explosions began to cut down numerous enemies. The men opened fire with everything, trying to keep the enemy as far away as possible. 

The griffons swarmed in large waves, attacking from every side at once. Most came from the field to the north from across the river; however, Jasper and the machine gun made sure none made it past the bridge. Some stopped and dove into cover, trying to lay down suppressive fire on the house. Careful aim and Holden’s spotting made sure they didn’t last long.

Still, the enemy continued to throw himself against the little fortress. Again they would rush out from cover and again they would be thrown back. Still, they got dangerously close a few times.

Baker’s machine gun was focused on stopping the enemy from crossing the road. Every time a griffon was brave enough to cross, he would open fire and cut him down. This continued until his gun finally ran out of ammunition.

“This gun is out!” Baker said, now returning fire with his rifle. “Jasper, how much you got left?”

“I’m down to my last belt sarge!”

“Everyone else is running low, too!” Courtland reported.

“Holden, where the hell is Mac!?” Baker yelled.

“He says he’s on the way sir!” Holden reported. “We just have to hold on a little longer.”

“Well tell him to hurry!” Baker ordered. “We can’t last much longer!”

Another charge came at the embattled troops. This one was just barley stopped; the griffons got within a few feet of the house. One actually got to the wall and tried to crawl through an open window; halfway through, McCreary stabbed him in the throat and shoved him back out.

“Sir, we’re out!” Jasper reported.

“Everyone else is down to their last rounds!” Zanovich added.

“Everyone hold your fire until they get close; make every shot count!” Baker said, the enemies still coming at the little fort. “Prepare for hand-to-hand combat.”

“Looks like this is it!” Franky said.

As another wave came in, the men held their fire. Still, he saw some griffons falling as if they were hit. Checking back down the road, he noticed the enemies had stopped coming from their side of the river, and tracers were flying from the bushes to the griffon’s side.

“Sir, Sergeant Hassay says they’re approaching from our backs and are engaging the enemy,” Holden reported.

“Alright squad, watch your fire on our side of the river,” Baker said. “We have friendlies approaching from our six!”

Sure enough, Mac, Hartsock, and dozens of other paratroopers appeared and opened fire on the enemy. The appearance of a fresh unit caused the griffons to break and run. The battlefield fell quiet and the troops relaxed.

The battlefield itself was a sight to see. All around and counting the ones on the other side of the river, there were over one hundred corpses lying about, not to mention the ones that were blown apart completely by the artillery. The farmhouse had several hundred bullet holes in it. Mac and his troops gathered around the farmhouse.

“Took your time, huh?” Baker joked, coming out to meet him. “Thanks Mac, we wouldn’t have lasted much more of that.”

“You didn’t think I’d leave you out here, did you?” Mac chuckled. 

“So what now?”

“There’s another hamlet down the road codenamed California, and we have to take it,” Mac explained. “We’re going to sit tight here for a few hours. Check your equipment and make sure you’ve got enough ammo. And Baker…eat something. You look like hell.” 

> American Patrol
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker

Joseph Hartsock is one of the best soldiers I’ve ever had the honor of serving with. During Normandy, he was the first of the squad to link up with me, Mac, and Leggett, and fought with me till the end. Hell, he fought on after that even; taking command of second squad throughout the journey and leading them as a temporary sergeant until his official promotion following the Battle of Bloody Gulch. Even though I never wanted command of third, he helped me through that.  He summed it up perfectly once; “Taking command isn’t easy, taking the consequences is even harder.” He fully deserved the promotion he got; still, there’s something more than that. Red’s my best friend; I know he’s not under my command anymore, but I feel like I’m holding his fate in my hands, too. 




September 22nd

It was almost six in the afternoon outside the hamlet codenamed California. There was a strong wind blowing through the area. There were dark clouds covering the sky, but no rain; the griffons placed them there in hopes of hindering reconnaissance runs by pegasi. However, they already knew about a heavy artillery battery within the buildings.

Just barely outside of the hamlet sat second and third squads on the side of the road that lead into the structures. Mac had already taken the rest of the platoon around in wide flanking move and succeeded in setting up a blocking position on the road as it exited the village, behind the enemy’s lines.

“We’ve got confirmation of an enemy artillery battery in town,” Baker explained. “The crows have locked down the main road, so we’ll have to pinch them between us.”

“Great,” Corrion mumbled.

“Not now, Sam,” Baker replied.

“Yea, not now Sam,” Jasper joked in a smug tone.

“And you get to babysit these two,” he told Hartsock.

“Oh shit,” Jasper sighed. 

“Asshole,” Connor whispered to the gunner. “Your mouth is too big! Every damn day I say it; your mouth is too big! You could fit a bass in there!”

“I’ll take the rest of third and whip around their left flank,” Baker told Hartsock. “Red, you take second along with the MG and go left. We’ll catch them in a pincer move.”

“Alright,” Hartsock said. “We’ll have to move fast to catch those guns. Those things can do a lot of damage if we let them slip away.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Baker said. “And no one dies today!”

“Well that’s good news,” Jasper commented. “Oh shit; I did it again, didn’t I?”

“Mac’s patrol is set up in a blocking position on the road behind the crows. We’ll all meet back together when it’s done,” Baker explained. “Let’s move! We’ve got work to do!”

Baker led his squad off to the left and out of sight.

"So, why a bass?" Jasper asked.

"I don't know, I panicked," Connor replied. "I needed something big to prove my point."

"I once stuck one of those donuts from the Fort Bragg mess hall in my mouth once; whole thing!"

"You mean those rocks they call donuts?"

"Yea, I nearly chocked to death," Jasper said. "McCreary still owes me six bucks for that."

Hartsock led his troops off to the right flank. They moved a short ways through some bushes before they came up to a short field that separated them from the buildings. The sound of small arms fire to the west told him Baker and his squad was already making their assault. 

Hartsock ordered the machine gun to be set up on a boulder and cover them as they moved towards the village. He moved, along with his other six men, towards the village. The griffons must not have noticed, because they made it to the wall of the first house without trouble. 

Checking past the corner of the right house, he spotted two teams of griffons with three in each. They also spotted Hartsock and took cover; one group behind a feeding troth, the other behind a small shed adjacent to it. There was a short stone wall that was just long enough to cover the three men of the fire team, Paddock, Firar, and Roselli. He ordered them to fire on the enemy while the assault team, Campbell, Marsh, and McConnell, to follow him past the left corner of the building. 

Turning the corner, the men saw another two trying to use a well as cover. Ducking behind a short fence, they put fired heavily on the two targets until both were hit and killed. They continued to move and took cover behind another two small sheds that were in a perfect position for a flanking move. Opening fire from behind the walls, they succeeded in taking out the remaining enemies.

Hartsock gave the call for the squad to reassemble. He also called for Jasper to bring the gun in. They continued to move cautiously through town. They kept their eyes open as they moved through, but didn’t meet any more resistance. 

Nearing the center of the town and the position of where the artillery supposedly was, Hartsock ordered his men to get ready. They moved in, but they didn’t find what they were expecting. There was only one artillery piece, which had a broken wheel on one side, and two griffons trying desperately to fix it, who were quickly gunned down by the squad. 

When the area was cleared, the men began to look around for any sign of the missing guns. Hartsock heard Baker call out ‘hold your fire’ as he and his squad entered the square. The look on his face was one of confusion and desperation.

“Where are the guns?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Hartsock replied. “Maybe they retreated down the road and Mac’s patrol got them.”

“No, no, can’t be,” Baker said, becoming uneasy. “Mac would’ve called in if he did.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to take third down the road and find Mac,” Baker said. “I saw most of the remaining crows run off in the direction of a field to the northwest. You go after them.”

Baker called third back together and they took off down the road. Hartsock regrouped his men and moved through to the northwest. They encountered no more resistance as they moved to a final, two-story house that stood out a small ways from the rest. 

The squad took cover behind the building while Hartsock and the machine gun team moved inside. They moved through quietly to the second floor. Hartsock looked out of one of the front windows facing the field. He spotted some twenty griffons; disorganized, but trying to rally for a counter-attack. 

“Jas, set up the MG in this window,” he said. “Cover the squad’s advance.”

“Got it, Red.”

Hartsock moved out of the house to the back where his men were waiting.

“Ok, we have a large number of them in the field, but they don’t know we’re here,” he explained. “Jasper’s going to cover us with the MG from upstairs. We’re going to move in quick and close and try to take them out. I want the fire team up the left flank, assault up the right; I’ll stay in the center to direct. Make sure to use whatever cover you can find, but go quickly and keep up the pressure.”

“Ready when you are,” Paddock answered.

Hartsock peeked back through the doorway.

“Jas, open fire!” he called to the gunner.

The machine gun opened fire; it’s long stream of bullets and tracers lacing through the field. Both teams immediately moved along their individual lines. They took cover behind the closest object, a picket fence, and opened fire. 

Though the initial volley killed a couple of griffons, they quickly dived behind whatever cover they could find; rocks, fallen logs, and dirt mounds. Returning fire, they began to give a challenge to the soldiers. Red spotted one wearing a rather official cap and yelling at the grunts; he guessed this was an officer. Raising his Carbine, he took aim and fire, hitting the officer in the head and knocking his cap off. 

Resistance immediately began to falter. Fire slackened and some began to fly or run away. Red ordered the teams to continue moving up and throw grenades to the last pockets of resistance. Paddock and his men moved up to a fallen log that was previously occupied by griffons and fragged two teams of four. Campbell moved up solo, covered by his team, to a rock and threw a pineapple into a large group of five. The remainder broke and fled, leaving most of their comrades lying on the field.

Hartsock gathered the men and returned to the town square. Waiting for him there was third squad, Mac, and a few soldiers, some of them wounded.

“Mac, what happened?” Hartsock asked. “Did you stop the battery?”

“The first shot we took hit our radio,” Mac explained. “It was a griffon sniper flying high up in those clouds. We got him; but, not before he destroyed the radio.”

“What about the guns?” Hartsock asked.

“Right after we lost the radio, we came under a heavy and coordinated attack from both sides,” Mac continued. “We didn’t have much cover and were taking heavy fire, so we had to abandon our position on the road and take cover in a small house off to the left while the battery slipped by. We held out there until Baker arrived and drove them off. Most of first squad is either dead or wounded.”

“Damn,” Hartsock sighed. “We missed a big opportunity; those cannons had enough range to bombard Ponyville itself.”

“Well, there’s nothing more we can do,” Mac said. “C’mon, let’s head back to camp. Those guns will pop up again someday.”

> Can Never Escape
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
I’ve always thought about what happened in Normandy. About all the men I lost, about the pistol, about what we all did. And, about Leggett and what he did. He took that secret to his grave. But I still know it, and I’m still here. Every now and then I think back and wonder if I made the right choice; and, if anyone can escape their past.



September 24th

Baker and his troops were relaxing in town with their friends. They continued telling stories of their adventures and learning about each other’s worlds. This was the first break from fighting the troops had gotten for some time. 

The war itself was going good. The paratroopers were managing to hang on to several key roads and bridges, albeit at an ever increasing cost. All larger operations against other parts of Equestria were being repelled by the Royal Guards. In response to the new, unforeseen opponent, the Griffon Empire was reaching out to other nations to join them or hire mercenaries to fight for them.

For now, Baker was content to listening to Twilight’s stories. The latest one recounted her arrival to Ponyville, meeting her friends, and their defeat of Nightmare Moon.

“And so Nightmare transformed back into Princess Luna,” Twilight finished.

“Well, I can see why she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Baker replied.

“What was it like growing up in your world,” she asked, “with your friend Risner?”

Baker smiled as he collected all the old memories.

“It was pretty fun. We would always launch bottle rockets in the creek behind his house and blame it on the kids down the street. We always seemed to go after the same girls in high school.”

His became depressed; his smile turning to a frown and his body seemed to slacken.

“Now all I can think about is what I’ll tell his mother when I see her again,” he said. “Do I tell her that he died a hero? Do I say that he died for the man next to him? But he’s gone, and I’ll never see him again. I’ll never see George again.”

“That’s just terrible,” she responded, her ears drooping down. “I can’t imagine losing any of my friends. I don’t know what I would do without them.”

Before either could continue, Hartsock walked in.

“Matt, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” he responded, getting up and following Hartsock to a tent nearby.

“Matt, how much longer do you think we’re going to have to keep this up?” he asked. “When do you think we’ll go home?”

“I don’t know, Red. All we can do is stay alive and win, and then we’ll head back.”

“What’s going to stop them from coming back once we’re gone?”

“Look, Taylor and Gavin said they were going to teach the ponies how to build some of our weapons so they can defend themselves once we’re gone,” Baker replied. “Anyways, we’d be getting back at the same time we left; your daughter will still be there.”

“And what about the men who die here? This isn’t any of our business, Matt!”

“How many of these civilians have to die for you to get home!” Baker yelled. “One hundred? A thousand?”

This really got Hartsock angry.

“You know damn well I value-” 

“Everything alright here?”

Mac walked through the opening of the tent.

“Just talking,” Hartsock replied.

“What do you need?” Baker asked.

“The princess has arrived and wants to speak with you guys,” Mac said, “something about a special mission.”
“That’s it?” 

“If you want my advice-and that’s rhetorical-keep the war out there.”

Baker and Hartsock left the tent. On the way, they passed several of their men talking to each other. Dawson, Franky, and McCreary were standing in a circle; with Dawson giving Baker and odd look as they passed.

“And what about you, Franky? Do you believe in fate?” Dawson asked.

“Uh, not this shit again,” McCreary sighed. “I’m getting some of that coffee.”

“I’m serious.”

“Damn Daws, I don’t know,” Franky replied. “Some people get shot, some people don’t. It doesn’t seem to make any sense to me.”

Baker and Hartsock continued on. As they approached the princess they saw she was already engaged in a conversation with Roselli and Jasper; and giggling a bit at it.

“I mean, just ask yourself; honestly,” Roselli said, holding up his BAR. “Could I lug around and fire a twenty pound gun all day?”

“Do you live in a fantasy world? Is it nice there?” Jasper asked. “I’m carrying a goddamn bazooka!”

“Oh, it seems they have arrived,” Celestia said. “If you don’t mind, we must speak in private.”

“Alright, we’ll catch up later,” Roselli said as they left.

“Princess, what is it you needed to talk about?” Baker asked. “It’s some kind of special assignment?”

“Yes, do you know of the castle in the Everfree forest?”

“You mean the one where Twilight and her friends defeated the Nightmare?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” she said. “One of our pegasi recently flew over and spotted some griffons in and around the castle.”

“Why would they occupy it?” Baker asked. “They’re not trying to bring back Nightmare, are they.”

“No, the castles itself isn’t key to that,” she answered. “I believe it may be for moral gain. I’m not entirely sure, but I would prefer not to find out.”

“So you want us to clear out a castle?”

“If you can,” she asked. “Once it is, I will check for any kind of magic they might be trying to use there, just to be safe.”
“Ok, let’s get this done, then.”



Baker and Hartsock’s squads were approaching the castle grounds, along with several other squads. The road directly to the castle was too thick for the jeeps, so they had to march the entire way. Once again, the forest was dark, but the men had grown used to its natural occurrences by now.

As they neared the castle, Baker began to look off into the woods. Every now and then he swore he saw something; not like one of the forest animals, but another human, just standing there and watching him. He quickly snapped out of it when a shot rang out and a trooper fell dead.

“Sniper!” Hartsock yelled.

The men immediately ran off the road and into cover.

“Can anyone see him?” Corrion asked.

“I think he’s in that tower,” Jasper replied.

“Can you hit him with the bazooka?”

“No good, it’s too high.”

“Okay, let’s just keep moving in,” Baker said. “Make sure to stay in cover. All we have to do is get inside.”

The men ran into the castles courtyard. The only outer defense was a couple of machine guns set up on some sandbags and some randomly placed teams. Jasper quickly destroyed the sandbag emplacement with his weapon and the other griffon teams were eliminated.

Continuing forward, they saw the castle’s massive, heavy wooden door was shut tight.

“Any idea on how to open it?” Zanovich asked.

“Why don’t we just blow it open?” Courtland suggested. “The princess didn’t say anything about not damaging the castle.”
“Just cause we can doesn’t mean we have to,” Corrion said.

“Got a better idea?”

“Alright,” Corrion relented. “Baker, what do you think?”

“We did bring some demo charges, but the detonator itself took a hit.”

“Why don’t we pile it on the door and I’ll hit it with a round?” Jasper said. “It could work.”

“Alright, we’ll try that. Set up the charges in a pile; everyone, take cover and prepare to fire if you see a target. They’re probably waiting for us on the other side.”

One of the soldiers placed a couple of charges in front of the door and ran back. Everyone took cover behind what they could find and aimed at the doorway. Jasper took aim himself and, after hearing that everyone was ready, fired his round.

There was a massive explosion that caused the men to duck back for a minute. Quickly looking back, they held their fire due to the smoke clouding the area. When that cleared away, they were greeted by a powerful sight.

The door itself, despite its size, was completely gone. Some parts of the stone doorway were also missing. On the ground were the bodies of three griffons, blown away by the force of the blast. Another five were still ok, but seemed to be stunned by the power of the explosion. The troops quickly opened fire and took them out.

“Alright, move in and clear it out,” Baker ordered. “Search this place thoroughly, don’t let any slip by you.”

As the men broke up to cover individual parts, Baker noticed a normal sized door off to the left.

“Paddock, with me,” he ordered. “We’re taking this one.”

Baker ran up to the side while Paddock attempted to kick the door in.

“Ugh, aw!” he grunted in pain as his foot bounced harmlessly off the door. “Son of a bitch!”

Looking at it again, he raised his weapon and fired a short burst at the lock, allowing him to push the door open.

“Eye’s open, they could be anywhere,” Baker said as they moved through the dark hallways. 

Eventually, they came across a set of spiraling stairs that led up to the tower the sniper was in. The men climbed up, constantly at the ready. They could still hear muffled small arms fire and explosions during their long walk up.

They reached the top. Baker went in first, ordering Paddock to watch his back. He found a bolt action rifle with a scope attached to it, probably belonging to the sniper. Maybe he got scared and flew off, but why leave his weapon?

Baker was quickly knocked over by a heavy blow. He turned on the floor to see the griffon sniper, moving with his talons for the kill. Baker delivered a swift kick to the stomach, causing stumble back a bit.

Paddock, true to his mission, charged into the griffon and smashed him hard up against the stone wall. Dropping the dazed animal to the ground, he took a moment to aim and brought his foot down on the wing, hearing a satisfying crack and a shriek of pain.

Paddock picked up the sniper by the throat and dragged him over to the window.

“I’m gonna be sendin’ the rest of your friends your way,” he shoved the sniper to the window’s opening. “Real soon!”

He tossed the helpless creature out the window and, after hearing a splatting noise, helped Baker back up.

“You alright?” 

“Yea, I’m good thanks.”

“Let’s head back down and regroup with the others.”

The two soldiers did this, moving down the stairs and outside the castle. Most of the men were busy moving the griffon’s corpses into one location. The rest were checking the area for anything that could pose a threat.

“Holden, go ahead and call it in,” Baker ordered. “It’s safe for the princess to come in.”

“Yes sir.”

As Holden did this, Baker turned away from the group. He walked a short ways off, trying to get some quiet. There was something on his mind he was trying to shake.

Peering into the woods, he spotted the figure again. It was the dark outline of a human, just standing there. Baker began to walk towards it, going deeper into the woods. As he got closer, the figure just disappeared.

Baker continued a short ways further. Suddenly, he heard faint talking. As he continued it grew louder and louder; but, it wasn’t English. It was something…rougher. A thought entered his head.

“No, that couldn’t be,” he thought.

He continued onwards; the voices becoming more recognizable. Eventually, his steady pace turned into a run and he dashed through the thick forest. He continued until he spotted an opening. Running up to it, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

There, standing in a circular clearing, were three German soldiers, talking to themselves in a circle. Two were normal infantry, holding MP-40s; the other was an officer with a Luger. They didn’t seem to notice Baker at the moment.

Baker, at this point, slowly took out his pistol and aimed at the Germans. He didn’t stop to think and talk to them; in fact, he didn’t really think at all. He didn’t feel anger or fear or anything else. There was only one thing running through his mind; kill them.



Celestia was walking towards the castle by herself. Since the war had been gearing into full swing, guards were needed elsewhere. Besides, she was more than confident she could take care of herself.

She walked through the woods; not troubled by the forest’s natural darkness. She didn’t really expect anything to happen. The castle was nothing more than old ruins without Nightmare; so, more than likely the griffons were going to use it as a base for operations. Though, that wasn’t what started troubling her.

Baker had been acting strange lately. She didn’t know why, but she hoped he would be ok. More than likely, it was nothing.

There was a loud crack that echoed through the forest. This was soon followed by another, and then a third. It was coming from close by, so she decided to investigate.

Hurrying through the forest, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Maybe the soldiers encountered another wild animal, maybe they were ambushed. What she did see confused her a good deal.

Running up to the clearing, she saw Matt firing his gun blindly. Looking around again, she didn’t spot anything that could be a threat. She decided to stop him.

“Matthew!” she said; Baker snapped out of his trance. “There is nothing here.”

“What?” he said. “Where did the Germans go?”

“I did not see any other humans. You were not firing at anything.”

The two met in the middle of the clearing. 

“So I was really firing at nothing?” Celestia nodded. “God, I must be losing it. Everything’s catching up to me now.”

“Perhaps not,” she replied. “On the way here, I did sense something faint. When I arrived, it disappeared.”

“What’s going on here?” he whispered to himself. “Am I going to go insane? Am I going to make it out of here?”

“How familiar is this sight to you, Baker?” a new voice said. “The feeling of reality; of not being able to win.”

Baker’s head immediately shot up; he knew that voice. He didn’t have to look far to see a new figure emerge from the trees. His eyes went wide and his mouth hung open.

“Matthew, I can sense it again!” Celestia said. “Is there something here?”

“Yes,” Baker replied. “Leggett’s here.”

“What do we have here?” Leggett said, “The ‘invincible’ Matt Baker in a land of colorful equines; and fighting their wars for them, nonetheless. But, what about the real war, Matt; the one back in your world? How many will die here for a cause that doesn’t matter?”

“You’re not really here,” Baker said defiantly.

“And what about the ponies you are trying to protect, Matt? They trust you; just like I trusted you. Can you protect them any better?”

Baker didn’t answer, looking down and away from the image.

“Suite yourself, Matt,” Leggett said, beginning to walk back into the woods. “I still can’t escape what I did; can you?”

“Matthew, what happened?” she asked, having not seen any of it. “Who’s Leggett?”

“He was one of my men that was killed in Normandy,” Baker replied. “But, he’s gone now. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me; I’ll be fine.”

“No, Matthew,” she said. “I sensed something there, and now that your vision is gone, so is the feeling. It was a familiar feeling; like the presence of one’s soul.”

“What are you saying?”

“The only conclusion I can draw is that the spirits of your dead men are following you,” She replied. “It would seem the ghosts of these men are haunting you.”

> When the World is Free
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
I didn’t talk much on the walk back. Everyone kept asking what was going on; I just kept saying I saw another crow and shot him. I also asked the princess to keep the…event between us. She agreed, but advised I listen to the ghosts to try and find out why they’re here. I don’t know if I should. They might not leave me alone, but it’s probably better than what could happen if I tell the men what happened.



September 24th
The march back home was quiet. A few of the men tried to ask Baker what had happened; he just shrugged them off and said it wasn’t anything worth worrying over. Still, as they walked through the forest, Baker saw more figures; Allen, Garnett, George, and the others. They didn’t talk to him, just stood where they were and watched.

They exited the forest’s opening, seeing it was the end of the day and the sun was setting. It was getting darker by the time they entered town and walked through the square. All the while Baker kept to himself; looking down at the ground and not responding to anything.

“Matt, hey Matt! What’s wrong?” he looked over to see Pinkie walking next to him. “You look kinda worried. Did something bad happen at the castle?”

“No, it’s noth-”

“Oh, did you see something scary in the forest?” she asked. “Sometimes I think I see scary stuff in there; monsters, demons, ghosts. Did you see a ghost? This one time I-”

“No!” Baker jumped. “I mean, I’m just tired is all, Pinkie.”

“Oh, ok,” she said. “Well, why don’t you come over to Sugar Cube Corner? The girls and I were going to have diner there, anyways. I could cook for you guys, too! Does that sound relaxing?”

“Yea, yea sure.”

“Ok! Just follow me and I’ll get cooking!”

Pinkie bounced off towards the building.

“Well, hopefully it’ll take my mind off things,” Baker thought.

Baker and the men walked into the building, greeting the others. Since the party, the men had also explained their eating habits and, since griffons and others already ate meat, it received a lesser amount of shock than some of the other things. 

“Hi Matt!” Twilight jumped as the men walked through the door. “How was the mission?”

“Fine,” he said blankly as he took a seat next to her.

“Did anything new or exciting happen?”

“No.”

“Oh, well did everything go alright?”

“Yea, we took care of it.”

“Matt,” she said in a worried voice, “is there something bothering you?”

“Just tired.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “It just…seems like something more than sleep.”

“I’m just tired of everything,” he replied, only starring at the table as food began to make its way around. “I just want to stop fighting, to go home, to stop seeing my friends die.”

“Well, you’ve earned that, at least.”

Baker finally gathered enough moral power to drag himself from his depression and thoughts for a few minutes. Looking back up, he figured obsessing over it, at least right now, wouldn’t help. It was also this time he noticed something dangling around Twilight’s neck.

“What are those?”

“I think they’re what you call dogtags,” she said, floating them up to Matt’s face. “General Taylor gave them to me earlier today.”

“Why?”

“Princess Celestia made me the official liaison between us,” she said proudly. “So, the general made me an official member of the division.”

“Well good for you!” Baker said. “So, does this mean you’re ready to come out with us in the field?”

“What!? They told me I wouldn’t have to fight!”

“I’m just joking, Twilight.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “Sorry, I just don’t think I would last very long out there. My duties are a bit more official.”

“I know, I know,” Baker said. “Someone’s got to keep this chaos in check.”

“Yea, Discord probably loves this.”

“Hm?”

“Oh that’s right; I haven’t told you about him yet,” she said. “Discord is a draconequus, sort of like a combination of several different creatures, and is the God of Chaos.”

“Ah, ok,” Baker replied simply. “He must be a real pain.”

“Well, he was reformed earlier in the year. He used to actually cause the chaos, now he just enjoys seeing it whenever it pops up. And he really savors it when it does.”

“So he’s nothing to worry about?”

“Not really,” Twilight replied. “Still, it’s odd that I haven’t actually seen or heard of Discord since this all began.”

“Did someone say my name?”

Sure enough the god of chaos appeared in a flash in the room.

“Speak of the devil,” Twilight moaned.

“So, you’re the Discord character she was talking about?” Baker asked. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Baker was trying to stay neutral as he didn’t really know what to expect. Being the god of chaos, Baker figured anything crazy could happen. His appearance was certainly odd, but Baker was calmer knowing he wasn’t a threat; at least not immediately.

“And it’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mr. Baker,” he replied. “I’ve been dying to thank you for all the madness you and your men have been causing lately. It feels…Wonderful!”

Now Baker was getting angry.

“What do you mean?” Baker asked politely through the tension in his voice.

“If you hadn’t arrived, the griffons would have easily taken over this area,” Discord explained. “All the fighting and chaos that has been caused by your men is greater than any I’ve ever seen! This little war of yours is great for me.”

“Is that so?” Baker rhetorically said, standing up to the god. “Could I have a word with you?”

Without waiting for a response, he dragged the god over to an empty part of the room while the others went back to chatting amongst themselves.

“The hell is your problem!?” Baker hissed. “There’s a war going on and you’re treating it like a game!”

“I’m thanking you like everyone else is,” Discord replied cheekily, “just in a different way.”

“Do you not care that people are dying? Does death mean nothing to you!?”

“If you weren’t paying attention earlier, I’m a god,” Discord pointed out. “Nothing can kill me.”

Baker crossed his arms and lowered his head, taking this back in. It didn’t last but a few seconds, but he saw something on his side. He grabbed it, uncrossing his arms and holding it in his hand.

“This thing could,” he said, looking down at the M1911 in his hand.

“That little thing?” Discord chuckled. “You think that little thing can put a hole through me?”

“Not exactly,” Baker replied. “This pistol was given to me by my father; hence my name engraved on the side. As I grew older, it just became a sad reminder of him; so, I gave it to one of my friends.”

Baker looked back up towards the god, who seemed a bit confused as to where this was going.

“During Normandy, he was killed and the pistol was picked up by one of my squadmates, who was also killed,” Baker explained. “Somehow, it always made its way back to me.”

Baker looked Discord square in the eye.

“Everyone who has ever touched this pistol, everyone, has died one way or another,” Baker said. “Including my father.”

Discord was a bit shocked by this, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“But you’re a god, right? Surely you must be immune from this little curse.” Baker taunted. “So go ahead and break it. Prove to me this myth is just that.”

Baker noticed Discord’s eye go wide, then start darting left and right. He was nervous.

“Ok, I will!”

“Go ahead, then,” Baker said, sticking the grip out towards him.

“I will,” Discord replied, “It’s just…I forgot something important…something big! I’ll do it later! Goodbye!”

Before Baker could reply he vanished in a flash, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. Returning the pistol to its holster, he returned to the table. Returning to his seat, he went back to his previous mood, as if nothing had happened.

“What was that all about?” Twilight asked.

“Nothing,” Baker replied.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Matt?”

“Yea, I’m fine. I’m just tired; tired of everything, really. Being away from home, kill and be killed, I’m just trying to push through it all.”

“Just try and take your mind off of it if you can.”

“I suppose I should,” Baker said. “Hey Daws, you have any more records? Something peaceful, maybe?”

“I think I’ve got something a little hopeful.”

Dawson placed the record in place and let it begin. Soothing music filled the room. The men didn’t sing this time, allowing the lady’s voice to flow uninterrupted.

“There’ll be blue birds over,
The white cliffs of Dover,
Tomorrow,
Just you wait and see.

There’ll be love and laughter,
And peace ever after,
Tomorrow,
When the world is free.”

> Only So Much
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
Talking about the pistol reminded me of what my dad had always taught me. He told me to focus on what I could control. But, how much can I? What’s under my power? I know just from being here that not much is, but I can still keep people alive. That’s my job; my one true mission. One mission I can’t fail at any cost. Still, is even that under my control? 



September 24th

Baker and the rest of his men were relaxing on a hill just a short ways outside of town, but not the outskirts. It also wasn’t at the main defensive perimeter around the town. This was more like the halfway point between the two.

It was nearing midnight and all the men were still wide awake, each doing their own thing. Baker himself was sitting under a tree on top of the hill, looking at his M1911 some more. He didn’t notice Dawson approaching until he started taking a seat next to him.

“Zanovich took Courtland and Franky out on patrol around the perimeter,” Dawson said. “I hope to God those crow bastards will leave us alone for tonight.”

“You certainly have a specific way of talking. I’ll give you that,” Baker replied.

“Is that the gun?” 

“Yea, AJ was giving me some funny looks and I think she knows about it now,” Baker explained. “She doesn’t understand any of this.”

“Do you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Understand this? And that?” Dawson gestured to the pistol.

“You buy into that shit?”

“You don’t purchase faith,” Dawson replied. “Those men died holding a pistol that you refused to take because, as some pointed out, you were too afraid.”

Baker gave him an odd look; not angry, but more concerned.

“I mean, forgive me for not believing it’s not all random chance,” Dawson continued.

“It was my father’s,” Baker explained. “That’s why I didn’t want it.”

“Who also died holding it.”

“What are you trying to prove, Dawson?”

“That you’re hiding something.”

Baker took a minute to think back on what happened to George. That led him to think about Allen and Garnett. And eventually, to what Leggett did and how he died. All this lasted a second.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Baker assured Dawson.

“I’ve talked to someone who disagrees with you.”

“What?”

Before Dawson could explain, the two were interrupted by a distant boom. They looked up to see it came from the town. Already, a small fire was starting where it occurred and the alarms were sounding.

Baker got up and looked closer. The Griffons didn’t have any planes or bombs, so what caused this? He saw another explosion, then another, all in random areas. It was the artillery, and they were bombarding the town itself. Not the lines where the troops were, but the homes of the innocents.

“Get everybody up!”

The squad gathered their equipment and prepared to move. The group hustled down the hill towards the town. As they reached it, they saw the full extent of the damage.

Here and there a random explosion would go off. Houses were burning and collapsing and the ground bore several craters in it. Though they weren’t as noticeable, several corpses laid at various odd spots, both human and pony, in varying degrees of gore.

It only seemed to get worse as they actually entered to try and help. Dawson spotted the crushed corpse of one pony who was crushed dead under some rubble. Baker took a step to the side to avoid a random horn from some unknown unicorn; rather bloody at the end. He also saw a soldier’s boot lying in the street and looked at it; its owner’s foot was still occupying it. 

If the ponies hadn’t known how bad a real war could get, just how hellish it could be, they knew now. Looking over from the carnage, Corrion spotted Franky going in another direction. He caught up to him and stopped him.

“Franky!” Corrion shouted, stopping him.

“I gotta help her!” 

“What the hell are you doing?”

“She’s in trouble! I’m faster alone, we’ll never get to her as a group,” Franky explained hastily, anxious to get going again.

“Franky, she’s not even human.”

“She doesn’t have to be!”

“If you run after her, you will die,” Corrion stated darkly.

“And if I don’t then what?” Franky shot back. “Please, save as many as you want, but just let me save this one!”

“Don’t!”

“Let me save this one!”

“Franky, don’t,”

“Just…one,” Franky continued his run, with Corrion briefly considering tackling the young soldier and dragging him back.

But that was that. Franky, though quite disturbed by the prediction, continued on his way. Corrion realized he couldn’t stop him, and that the squad would need his help providing relief for the town, so he made his way back. 

Baker led the squad to the main street, near the town square. The jeeps were parked in a rather random order, but something about the one on the road closest to them caught his eye. There was a paratrooper, or rather the body of one, lying on its hood with a familiar face. Campbell pointed it out depressingly as them men neared; his two words being the only greeting.

“It’s Marsh.”
The 2nd squad soldier was lying on his back. His body was a bit rough, but intact. There were a few streams of blood from small holes, varying in size, from his upper body; the most noticeable were the head and throat. He actually looked quite peaceful.

“No whine just came out of nowhere,” Campbell explained. “The shell hit a burning building nearby, and the fragments caught him in the soft spots.”

He lowered his head over his friend’s body, badly shaken up.

“No way to know it would happen…like one loud crack.”

He looked up again; his voice was trembling and it looked like he would cry.

“How could Paddock have known?” he asked no one. “H-How…how could Paddock have possibly known this would happen?”

Baker only just noticed Hartsock, who was half sitting-half standing on a jeep nearby, looking at the ground. Baker walked over to try and assuage him. Red didn’t acknowledge him by looking up, but rather just started talking like Campbell had.

“There’s too many to help,” he stated hopelessly.

“Red, it’s okay,” Baker said; Hartsock didn’t reply. “Red, look at me; it’s okay, we’re gonna help them!”

As if to contradict Baker’s claim, Paddock appeared holding another body.

“Red!”

The men moved over to see who they had lost now. Preparing themselves for the worst, they were surprised to see it was a pony’s. This made the situation even worse.

“Oh no,” Baker thought. “Oh, no…no no no.”

Paddock wouldn’t have brought a pony unless it was important. The last thing the men wanted was to see a civilian killed. Baker was silently asking it not to be one he knew; but, as he got closer, his fears were suddenly realized in a horror. The corpse was Scootaloo.

“I found her under part of a wall,” Paddock explained, setting her body down.

This was far worse to Baker. Scootloo’s body was badly beaten up with blood running down from everywhere. Most of her orange coat was stained red with it. Worst of all, unlike Marsh and despite her closed eyes, she seemed to show a sort of fear and desperation; it was as if she had hoped Baker would come to the rescue just in time.

“What happened to her?” Baker asked a noticeable tremble in his voice.

“Me and Friar were by their house just chekin’ on ‘em, and the building next it collapsed on top of it; it just…collapsed like that.”

“What about her two friends? You know where they are?” Baker asked desperately. “Paddock where!?”

“Well…they’re…they’re dead, Baker.”

Baker became even more acute and afraid. He quickly leaned over Scootaloo’s body and moved her head from one side to the other, as if checking on something. He shook it lightly a bit, but stopped and just rested her head on the back of his hand; rubbing her mane with his fingers and scratching her scalp softly.

“Scootaloo! I know you can hear me!” You can hear me because you’re gonna be alright!” he said. “Scoots…Scoots it’s me! It’s Baker! Please…please listen. Scoots please, just listen to me.”

“Matt, we gotta go,” Friar said.

“Scoots…please,”

“Sir, we’ve got new orders,” Holden chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the scene. “Cole says the enemy is making an all-out attack against the 82nd and 101st’s fronts meet nearby in tandem with the bombardment. Everyone else is tied down and he needs us to move up and assist. We got to move fast, or they’ll break through and enter town.”

“She’s dead Matt!” Friar yelled, spurred into it by the latest news. “Look at me!”

He yanked Baker away by the arm.

“There’s a thousand people that need our help right now! We know the griffons are serious about this attack and we’re going to need everyone. You are going to have to cover us! Can you do that?”

Baker just looked back down, unsure of what to do. Before he could decide, he brought it back up and nodded. Seeing he understood, Friar and the others got up and began to move out. Baker took a final look and slowly stumbled before working his way up to a jog, leaving the bodies of his friends in the street. 

By the time they reached the frontline, they could see that the All-Americans and Screaming Eagles were in trouble. Several swarms of griffons were throwing themselves at the line of foxholes and trenches. Even though there was a field separating the Americans from the enemy on the other side, the dark of night made aiming difficult. 

Still, there were so many charging the line that they could just fire blindly and probably hit something. Machine guns fired long bursts, their lines of tracers lighting up the field they were crisscrossing. Rifles cracked as their muzzle flashes gave away their positions.

The two squads noticed a very thin portion of the line where some of the griffons had reached it. There was a danger of it becoming a gap in the defense. Not needing orders, the men ran to it and quickly picked an individual foxhole, firing away into the night.

“Connor, make sure to keep the belts ready,” Jasper instructed. “We’ve got some fast work tonight.”

“I got it, Jas,” he replied after loading the 30 and picking up his own weapon. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this; firing!”

The enemy didn’t come in large waves, but in one continuous stream. There was always firing in the darkness. Sometimes it would lessen, but it continued endlessly. 

Another problem was the terrain across from them. The para’s lines were in the tree line of a wood, but across from the field, the enemy had woods and hills. They played the height to their advantage, setting up their own machine guns to fire on the line, with nests in the center becoming a major irritation. 

“Guys!” 

Baker, who had been crouching in his foxhole while reloading, looked up to see McConnell shouting.

“We can’t fight with those guys raining lead on us!” he shouted over the battle. “Cover me! I’m going to move up and frag ‘em!”

He wasn’t ordered to do so; it was just something he thought had to be done. Seeing a light moment in the enemy’s charge, he got up and rushed out into the field. If anyone yelled at him that he was crazy or to come back, it wasn’t heard or heeded.

Still, the men increased the rate of fire. They focused mainly on the gun nests, trying to keep them down and draw their attention. It worked well as they had trouble targeting the dark figure running in their direction. 

The griffons that were charging were stunned, not shooting at McConnell at first. Some thought the Americans were launching their own charge and ran. Others tried to go after him, only to be cut down. The rest continued the attack, also getting shot and killed.

McConnell used whatever cover was available. He hid behind boulders, logs, and the bodies (both single and piles) of fallen griffons. While he was running, he also took the opportunity to shoot a few charging griffons.

“Alright, made it,” he said to himself having reached a log that was within grenade range of the nests. “Now, just toss the bombs into the nests. Don’t be too weak, but don’t just hurl it in. You can’t afford to miss. Man, I wish I remembered my glasses.”

One by one, three grenades went out. One by one, the three nests of machine guns stopped firing. Somehow, he had made it through and got the job done. Now, he just had to go back.

As McConnell stood up, Baker noticed a lone figure on the hill side raise a rifle. He immediately tried to fire his Thompson, but it jammed and he switched to his Garand. He fired and killed the figure with a single shot, but not before it fired a shot in turn.

Baker noticed McConnell out of the edge of his sight. His chest seemed to explode outwards and he fell onto his knees. Baker was able to make out his face which, after the initial shock of what happened, seemed to sport a content smile from knowing that his task was done.

“McConnell’s down!” Baker yelled.

“We gotta go help him!” Paddock urged.

“We can’t! They’re still coming! We have to wait till they slack off!” Red replied.

As much as Baker hated it, he was right. If they all tried to get up and go after him, the line would be exposed to a breach. McConnell would just have to ride it out.

The fight continued onwards, but without the guns to suppress the soldiers, the Americans had already won. Still, the enemy kept coming, filling the field with bodies. There was a short brake and the men took the opportunity to replenish their depleted ammo.

By now the sun was rising, and its light revealed the full extent of the carnage. The griffon bodies lay strewn all over the field with only one spot sticking out. McConnell was still there, lying on his side.

This sight, more than any other, spurred Baker and the others into action. Despite their weariness, the men became angered, worried, and tired of waiting. Something had to be done.

“That’s it!” Baker yelled, sounding as if he was angry and tired of not just waiting, but of everything in general. “I’m going to get him!”

Baker got out of his foxhole, but something interesting happened. Several others, including his squad joined him. The line as a whole got up in bits and pieces as the men slowly marched out of the woods.

“I’m guessing you’re not sure of just what you’re doing, right?” Red asked, walking next to his friend.

“Nope, but if there’s a chance he’s kicking, then I’m going in all the same,” Baker replied. “He’s a good soldier, Red.”

“We are, too,” Red replied. “We don’t leave each other behind.”

The men exited the tree line with the bright, rising sun to their back just as the griffons launched another wave. They came in running, but it was noticeably halfhearted and less numerous. This was obviously they’re last charge, and the paras would meet it with one of their own.

The men had started off walking now began running. They fixed their bayonets and fired into the mass of enemies. They shouted at their foes and screamed at the very top of their lungs.

“HOOAH!” 

“CURAHEE!”

“ALL THE WAY!”

“AIRBORNE!”

The adrenaline-fueled charge had its effects. For the griffons, who were down to their last troops and with the sun in their eyes, this pack of animals running at them was enough. Most just threw down their weapons and flew off. Those that did try to fight back were shot down, stabbed, clubbed with a weapon, or just beaten. 

In no time, they had reached McConnell and Baker stopped. The attack, however, continued. It ran its way up into the griffon’s lines, which were near empty from the lack of troops. Those that were there were quickly put down. 

The attack finally halted as the men cheered from their new lines. They had been bombarded from far off, come under attack all night, and rose up to beyond what they were asked, it was sweet. They had ridden out the vicious, endless, merciless storm that was thrown against them, and then took the fight to Mother Nature. 

But for the men of 2nd and 3rd squad, there was no time for celebrating. Baker quickly moved to McConnell, who had a griffon’s corpse lying on top of him. Baker pushed it aside to check on the trooper, and again, met his fears.

McConnell was deceased, and from the looks of it, probably had been since he fell. Everything they just did, to Baker at least, was for nothing. If there was any comfort for him, it was that he could see McConnell had indeed been smiling when he passed.

Picking up his body, the two squads left the cheering men and returned to their original lines. All of them were in a state of gloom. The first person to meet them was Lt. Col. Cole. The second person surprised the men.

Franky, who had run off during the bombardment, was ok; as was Lyra, who was trotting alongside him with her tail wrapped around his leg. At first glance, one could tell they both had a tough time, too. They were dirty, blackened by the smoke and fires, and scratched.

At first, Baker thought of lashing out against him. I he was here, maybe McConnell would still be alive. But, then he realized that if he knew about what was happening to Scoots, he probably would have done the same.

“Christ…McConnell,” Franky noticed as both him and Lyra were taken aback. “I wish he was just back at his farm in Oklahoma now. This shouldn’t have happened."

“What happened to this one?” Cole asked.

“He ran out during the night charge to grenade some MG nests on the hills that were giving us trouble,” Baker explained, laying his body down. “He…well, he got the job done.”

“So, this is the one I was hearing about?” Cole asked. “He ran out in the middle of the enemy’s attack?”

“Yes sir,” Corrion replied. “He was hit before he could make his way back to us.”

“Damn,” Cole sighed. “Even in my charge, I had you guys with me.”

There was a short silence before Cole spoke again.

“I’m going to recommend him for a posthumous Medal of Honor. He’s earned it, no doubt.”

“Thank you, sir,” Baker replied before sitting down on his own.

“He didn’t know, though he probably thought it would happen,” Baker said to himself. “He was just focused on doing the right thing, and he did just that. We would be better men to respect that.”

A voice came from the back of Baker’s head, loud and clear.

“Yea, but I still died,” McConnell’s voice echoed.

“Yea, you did.” 

> What You Can Control
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
Most of the time following the attack was spent repairing the town and just sitting there, waiting and trying to figure out what to do next.  For a few weeks we just sat there, cleaning up and lounging. I’m pretty sure we needed the break, but most of us weren’t in the mood for relaxing, even if it was all we had to do. 

The only other thing was attending the funeral services; those of Marsh, McConnell,…and Scoots and her friends. That was also the last a saw of Twilight and her friends for a while. All the feelings radiating off of them; sadness, confusion, distrust. All of that drove me away, gave me the feeling of guilt. I couldn’t help but think that it was my fault, like if I had been there sooner, could I have done something? I was even more scared to confront them again, I didn’t even want to. When our next mission came around, I actually felt a little relieved to be getting away from them. That, more than anything, made me guilty. 



October 10th 

It is said that war waits for nothing and no one. You kill and are killed, act or die, mourn later or be mourned by others. This would not be the exception to the rule. It was a war through and through, and when friends die, like in every other, you finish so that more will not follow them.

For Baker and the men, it felt the same but different. The four jeeps driving down the road towards the rally point, same as always. The last in line had two new, fresh names scrawled on the side of those lost in Normandy, Marsh and McConnell. The drive was quiet, all except for a few short talks whenever they got held up from mechanical problems.

“I can’t believe they got him,” McCreary commented. “He was always so damn spry.”

“He took a bunch of ‘em with him,” Baker assured him.

“You think it was…quick, at least?”

“Not especially,” Baker answered honestly. “Sorry…I didn’t…I didn’t mean to, uh…sorry.”

The same kind of mood was shared by the crew in the other vehicles. Franky especially seemed to take it as a hard learning lesson, realizing that it could just as easily be him next. Some mature and harden over time; for Franky, it was the instant he looked into McConnell’s dead face. The only ones not thinking about that specifically was the lead jeep in the line, the one stuck in the road.

“Why did you let Jasper write that on the hood?” Friar asked in a disappointed tone, referring to the large words ‘BULLET MAGNET’ painted on the jeep.

“It was funny at the time,” Hartsock answered.

“What about now?”

“It has its moments.” 

Hartsock had been trying to think on other things. He had been, more or less, successful until now. Paddock had been the only other who wasn’t, at the moment, saddened by it. Being the drive was locked in his own battle with his jeep.

“The shifter gets stuck up one more time and I’m gonna put the bitch out of her misery!” 

“Red, how do you think Baker’s handling this?” Friar asked.

“The war, you mean?” Red asked back, trying to dodge the question.

“Well, with everything. Specifically with…well, with his friends dying.”

“I’ll talk to Mac about it when we get to the camp.”

“Red, you will be able to fix him, won’t you?”

“Focus on what we can control, Friar, like the war,” Hartsock replied, “and in Paddock’s case, the jeep. We moving yet, corporal?” 

“Yea, I got it Red, and I know just what to do when we get there.”



The camp was nothing more than a collection of tents to launch missions from. Still, it was what they had to deal with. And the accommodations really weren’t that bad, in all. The night was actually rather peaceful, for the most part.

Hartsock had already asked Mac to sit and talk with him. He wasn’t really looking forward to it, but it was just one of those things that had to be done. Taking a seat, he went through what had happened over the past few weeks.

“So Marsh and McConnell were the only casualties?” Mac asked.

“Yeah, so far,” Hartsock said. “Can I speak freely?”

“Son, in case you ain’t noticed, this ain’t exactly headquarters,” Mac reminded him. “No need to be so polite. Ask Away.”

“It’s Baker. Something’s not right with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell him I told you any of this, but sometimes I think he’s seein’ stuff that isn’t there. He takes it all so hard, y’know?...When men die.”

“And how do you take it?” Mac asked.

“Nothing good was ever free,” Hartsock responded honestly. 

“Move Friar!”

Paddock yelled at the soldier standing in front of the jeep.

“I’m just gonna drop a couple through the block and be on my merry little way,” Paddock said, waving his pistol around.

“Paddock! You are not! Shooting! The jeep!” Friar yelled, holding him back.

“I think everyone needs to get some rest,” Mac suggested to Hartsock.

“Huh, yea, I guess you’re right,” Hartsock said, stopping Mac as he walked back towards his tent. “Wait, what should I tell him? What should we do about Baker?”

“Well, I guess you’re gonna have to talk to him, Red,” Mac said simply. “You never told me anything, remember.”



October 11th

The jeeps were, once again, stuck; this time due to traffic problems at the lead of the column. The jeeps sat in the road, on a bridge, waiting to get moving again. They had already entered another small cluster of buildings, labeled as ‘Louisiana’ on the map. 

Their whole purpose here was to try once again to find the guns that had struck Ponyville. Though the men had jumped at the chance for revenge, getting stuck in traffic became a problem, and the troops began to worry that their prey might evade them again. The pouring rainstorm the Griffons had set over them only added to the misery.

“How’s your hand?” Hartsock asked Paddock, trying to pass the time. 

“Heh, now that’s funny comin’ from you,” Paddock chuckled, receiving a slap on the back of his head from Friar. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“It doesn’t feel like very long ago, does it?” Friar asked Hartsock. 

“I don’t really notice it much, to be honest,” he answered, looking at his stub of a finger. “It seems a might selfish to get all worked up over losing a finger.”

“Where’d you put your wedding band?” 

“I keep it around my neck. Erma’d send me back here on my hands and knees if I lost the damn thing.”

Zanovich, in the lead with Baker, was most upset with the conditions.

“I want five minutes with General Taylor to voice how little I like driving in columns like this,” he complained. 

“Zano…what?”

“We might as well be on parade we’re so easy to pick off!”

“We’re stuck in traffic…in a war,” Holden said blankly from the back of the jeep.

“I’m just saying! Five minutes, and we don’t get stalled out every time something gets broken-”

There was a long chatter of machine gun fire that interrupted him, followed by the crack of individual rifles. The men understood what it meant, but didn’t get as excited as they had before. Quickly dismounting and moving to the front, Baker met up with Hartsock.

“Alright, let’s move through and clear out the area,” Baker said. “We have to move faster this time.”

“Rendezvous is at checkpoint eighteen, I think it’s a café,” Hartsock said, leading his men in another direction. “Don’t be late!” 

The first obstacle to them was a large gazebo in the middle of a marketplace. A machine gun mounted on concrete blocks, was firing away while the rest of its circular form had sandbags to protect the supporting infantry. There were also a couple of teams of regular infantry in the left part of the marketplace, using rubble from the buildings as cover.

Baker and his men took their first cover behind one of the larger trucks that was disabled. Jasper had brought his bazooka with him, but it wouldn’t be able to go through the reinforced concrete the gun was using for cover.

“Alright, there’s a short wall that runs a little ways around that gun,” Baker observed. “I want the fire team to keep it occupied while the assault and support teams follow me along the wall to flank it.”

“Got it, firing!” Zanovich replied, his weapon already in action.

“There’s a few holes in the wall, so be careful,” Baker warned. “Assault team, keep the enemy infantry to the left occupied. Jas, follow the wall to its end and fire on the enemy troops on the gazebo. Alright…now!”

Seven men in total darted to the cover of a small stone wall, which was barely able to cover them fully. Corrion, McCreary, and Courtland stopped halfway through and began to shoot at the hostiles on the left. Tracers crisscrossed the entire market place as Baker and the bazooka team moved towards the end.

The wall led ran the length of most of the square. The final move had the danger of an opening blasted in it. The men quickly shuffled, while still crouched uncomfortably low, past it to the other side. The last one in line, Holden, was tripped by his radio and the water and fell chest first to the ground. 

“Oh damn!” he yelped, quickly squirming in prone to the wall again.

“Jas, fire it!” Baker ordered.

The rocket quickly blew through the sandbag covers, and killed the Griffons protecting it. The hole revealed five other targets, which were quickly dispersed by Baker and the other’s small arms fire. With the gun silenced, the men focused their fire on the remaining enemies still in the marketplace, with Baker running up to the gazebo and getting an excellent angle to snipe them.

“Guys, form up here,” he called.

The paratroopers gathered under the structure. In random areas of the town, they could see and hear small explosions, probably some type of mortar. One distinct sound was that of a cannon firing from a short ways away.

“Hear that?” Corrion asked.

“Yea, it’s one of those guns, no doubt,” Baker replied. “The main street to it got blocked by rubble. We’ll cut through one of these buildings and get the jump on them.”

“Alright, I’m ready to finish this,” Zanovich added.

“Kill those big guns and we can go.”

Baker and his men moved through a small alley in the marketplace and stopped at its opening at what looked like the town square. Looking around the corner, he spotted several Griffons guarding one of the cannons firing at something. He wasn’t sure what, but he wanted it to stop all the same.

“Hey, I can hear ‘em inside,” McCreary said, listening to voices on the other side of a back door. 

“Grenade first, then grab a window and open up on them. Jas, you guys take the second story windows and fire a rocket into the cannon’s emplacement. Zano, you guys get the bottom. Assault team, stay at this corner and make sure they don’t flank us. Move into the square to finish them when I give the word.”

The men all nodded in agreement, with Zanovich and Franky moved onto opposite sides of the door. Baker gave the signal and Zanovich kicked it in while Franky rolled the grenade inside, hearing it explode a few seconds later. The Base of Fire team moved in first, shooting two that were wounded, but still alive and holding their rifles. 

Connor was the first to the stairs, and as he got to them, came face to face with a Griffon at the top who heard the commotion. Reacting faster than his enemy, Connor fired three times, letting the corpse topple down the stairs before the support team moved up. Jasper found an open window and fired his already loaded weapon into the enemy gun pit, destroying the weapon. 

The remaining enemies were quick to act, finding cover and firing away at the house. The squad returned fire, but most of the Griffons were well covered and the heavy volume of return fire made accurate shots difficult.

“Corrion! Can you guys move into grenade range?” Baker asked over the noise.

“No good! Fire’s too heavy!” Corrion answered from the corner. 

“What do we do, sarge?” Franky asked.

“Keep returning fire and keep them away!”

The squad did this, but most of their rounds didn’t find the target, and the enemy began to inch closer.

“Baker, do we fall back now!?” McCreary asked.

“We’ll have to if something doesn’t happen soon!”

Fortunately, something did happen. Hartsock and his men, who had worked their way around the enemy, had moved into the café on the other side of the square and started shooting at the enemy’s exposed back. With their allies beginning to fall, the Griffons began to break down and, coming under heavy fire from both sides, were wiped out quickly.

“Red!” Baker yelled from across the square.

“Hey! Guess we saved your ass again, huh!?” Hartsock yelled back. 

The squad moved through the square, with Baker going to meet Hartsock inside the café. Most of the others sat outside and waited for their next orders, but since most of the area was cleared out, none were likely coming. Mortars also continued to fall sporadically, but they were ignored as just another thing of the battlefield. 

“Most of it’s stale,” Hartsock observed, looking over the remaining food.

“Stale’s good enough to eat,” Friar responded, picking up a piece of bread.

“What’s the count for you?” Baker asked, entering the shop.

“We got two other guns,” Campbell replied. “If intel was solid, that’s the last of the long range cannons.”

“The revenge feels kinda empty,” Baker admitted.

“Matt, I need to…uh…say something to you. About…,” Hartsock had trouble finding the right words, but Matt understood.

“We should do this in private,” he responded.

“The men need to know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on?” Friar asked.

Baker just stood there and started at them.

“Matt, you got to admit that ever since we got here…your acting lately has…”

“Red, I’m just trying to help.”

“I know, but lately…at the funeral you didn’t even bother talking to anyone. You were actually trying to avoid Twilight and her friends!”

“I wasn’t exactly…”

“You were,” Red stated. “And, you’ve been acting odder than that; starring as if you’ve saw something, starring at your pistol,…Matt, is there something you aren’t letting us know?”

Another long silence ruled the room.

“So you’re, like, crazy, or bonkers or something?” Campbell asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Baker said sternly. “It was one thing Red!”

“Matt, for the past few weeks you’ve been stumbling around the town doing nothing!” 

“I was sad, alright!” he yelled. “I…I-I just feel bad over losing Marsh and McConnell.”

“And Scootaloo, right?” Red asked. 

“Yes, and?” 

“Then why did it look like you didn’t give a damn about the world at the ceremony!?” Red asked.

“You’ve got no idea what-”

Baker stopped himself quick.

“I don’t know why you’re avoiding them, Matt. If you’re hiding something form them, you’d better spill it soon.”

Matt lowered his head, and was quiet again.

“If not, then just forget about them; we aren’t going to see them after any of this, anyways,” Red pointed out. “Civilians die in war, Matt; we’ve both seen it happen. Maybe, if you treated them like civies instead of always trying to be their best friend, you wouldn’t need to avoid them!” 

Corrion had been sitting outside on a bench that had survived the battle, watching the men inside talk. The pouring rain and mortars didn’t really affect him that much. He was more worried about what was happening inside. 

There was another small crash, and the inside of the shop exploded. Smoke flew out from the shattered windows and covered the building. It took Corrion a minute to realize what had happened. 

“Mortars!” McCreary yelled. 

Corrion immediately ran through the rain and into the shop. As he did so, Campbell slowly stumbled out, his hand clutching his throat. Baker was lying on the ground when Corrion saw him.

“Baker! Oh fuck! Baker, your face!” he said, seeing new, deep, long cuts. “We’re getting you out of here!”

Corrion lifted him up and helped him out of the shop.

“Red!” Baker coughed as Corrion set him down. “Where’s Red?”

Corrion ran back into the shop, past Paddock and Roselli, carrying Friar outside.

“Put him down!” Paddock yelled. “Put him down here!” 

“Is he ok?” Roselli asked.

“Just put him down now!” Paddock yelled, looking at Friar’s face.

Friar wasn’t breathing or moving at all. His eyes closed, he lay there, unresponsive. The large amounts of blood that covered his face were washed off slowly by the downpour of rain.

“Look at me, Friar! Come on, man, you’re tougher than this!” he yelled, grabbing his head and turning it to him. “Look at me!”

Corrion dragged Red out, who was also not responding much.

“How bad?” McCreary asked.

“He…he ain’t breathin’. Gimme room.”

Corrion put his hands on Red’s chest while Mortars and lighting continued to fall sporadically, filling the air with noise.

“Red, I know you can hear me, Red. I need you to breath, for me,” Corrion continued to push on his chest, not getting any response. “Red, you can breathe. You just gotta try!”

“Corrion,” Courtland tried to move him back.

“He’s not dead! Don’t fucking say it!” Corrion yelled. “Breathe, goddamn it, Red! You gotta breathe!”  

“Sam, we can’t do anything more!” Courtland said. “We gotta move!”

“No!” Corrion yelled. “Come on, come on! Come, on Joe!”

Still, there was no reaction.

“I said come on, Red!” 

Corrion brought his fists down hard on his chest. Sure enough, Red coughed and opened his eyes. He moaned as he rolled it from side to side. 

“We need to load up, and get back to an aid station,” Paddock suggested. “We’re too banged up to do anything but hurt ourselves worse.” 

Roselli looked at Friar, and understood he wasn’t getting up again.

“Put Friar in the back of that-”

“I got ‘em,” Paddock assured him.

“Sorry.” 

Paddock picked up the body and carried it off. Zanovich helped Baker get up and start walking. He soon straightened up.

“How capable are you right now?” Zanovich asked.

“Enough,” Baker replied.

Baker sat down and watched the scene. The men picking others up, the rain continuing to pour down, everything that was happening seemed so unreal to him. All he could do was think to himself again.

“I’ve demanded over and over, ‘take me, not them’, but no one is listening. McConnell was trying to save us-”

“And you couldn’t save me,” McConnell’s voice rang in his head.

“And Red, I don’t know if he’s even going to make it. Goddamn it. You can’t have him.”

Red’s voice now popped into his head.

“Another demand you can’t possibly back up.”

“You…can’t…have him.”

> One Bridge Too Far...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker

After Red got hit…things felt like they should’ve stopped right there. It felt like we’d already done too much at too great a cost. Bringing him back to the aid station with Doc Gideon also forced me to see Twilight and her friends again; they all looked at me different, some worried, some angry…some were just blank. I didn’t talk to them, I still felt like I couldn’t. I just dropped Red off, and was on my way again; and again I felt like a weak bastard for not doing it. We got pulled aside for another mission before I got a chance to do anything else. Maybe I’d be lucky if I didn’t come back from this one; whatever fate holds for me there might be better than what Twilight and her friends have to say.



“Baker?”

The Sergeant looked up from his slouched spot against a wall to see Colonel Sink standing over him.

“Yes sir?”

“I need a quick moment of your time, son.”

“Something wrong, sir?” Baker asked, standing to face him.

“Well, the aid station made it clear Sgt. Hartsock ain’t comin’ back. Even if he does make it, he won’t be able to fight again for a while.”

“I understand, sir; that leaves his squad without a leader.”

“Well, because of its losses, it isn’t much of a squad anymore; there’s only three men left.”

“Yes sir; Paddock, Campbell, and Roselli.”

“So even if we made one of them a sergeant, there wouldn’t be much to command,” Sink explained. “Normally I wouldn’t do this, but you know these men better than anyone.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“Right, so I’m going to be foldin’ what’s left of second squad into yours; that’ll bring your complement back up to thirteen men.”

“Yes sir, I’ll take care of them.”

“Good, now here’s what’s going to be happening,” Sink explained. “I’m here on behalf of Captain Wilder, we need to keep moving and time is essential. There’s another crossing to the north of here that we’re going to take. Unlike most of the previous ones, this one is over a major river, and it’s pretty damn big; there’s also some urban areas on both sides of the bridges. Most of the 502nd is going in to try and take it, including you boys.”

“Yes sir, we’ll get on it.”

Sink left with that, and Baker was preparing to sit down again before Corrion stopped him.

“So we’re at thirteen again,” he stated simply. “Back to the Baker’s Dozen.”

Baker just shook his head at the squad’s old nickname.

“Thirteen was never a lucky number for us, Sam.”

“Maybe it’ll be different this time.”

“Maybe, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”



October 13th

“The town is divided up into two urban centers on either side of the bridge; the north one is called Jersey, the south one is called York,” the Captain explained to the group of men sitting in the cover of the forest. “Fox is going to be leading the attack through the center; there’s going to be a quick, heavy prep barrage on the area just before the attack by the division’s howitzers. More than likely the enemy will try to drop the bridge into the water, so hurry up and capture it before they can do so.”

Baker got up and returned to his squad, who were waiting in their own hidden position. There was a good view of the bridge from where they were; it was certainly nothing like a small, stone structure or wooden walkway. This one was truly massive, made of concrete and iron and visible from a long ways away. It was easy to tell how important it was just from the sight. 

“Christ, could you imagine being on that thing when it gets blown into the river?” Dawson asked him. “I’m not too keen on this one.” 

“We’ll make it, Daws.”

“Hope so; we’re nearly done here and I’d prefer to at least die in my own world.” 

They remained there, sitting in silence for a few more minutes, watching the town, until Dawson spoke up again.

“Did Red ever touch it?”

“What?”

“The gun; your pistol.”

Baker shook his head away from him.

“Not the time, Daws.”

“When is the bloody time then? You say it like there’s a better time but you never say when!” he said, still keeping his voice at a normal volume. “And what about those three little girls that died in the village? I’m sure you didn’t let them hold any weapons.”

“For Christ sake, Dawson; this is going too far!” he retorted. “You don’t know what I do.”

“Maybe not, but I know more than you think.”

The two were interrupted by the sound of a constant, distant rumbling.

“That’s us,” Baker said. “Squad, fall in!”

The men gathered around Baker, as other groups of soldiers similarly did. The weapons team was carrying their machine gun this time, hoping they had made the right choice. Also present was the new support team, formed around the three survivors from Hartsock’s squad.

“Ok guys, as soon as the shelling hits, we move; no hesitating, no getting held up. It’s our job to capture that bridge, so we have to move fast. Ok, the shells are coming; let’s get to it!”

The area switched from seemingly peaceful to a complete hellish chaos in two seconds as the heavy guns smothered both sides of the river, taking care not to fire around the bridge itself. After the first volleys began to fall, the airborne troops hustled out from the woods towards the quaint hamlet. 

They received zero fire from the buildings, which did not surprise Baker. The bombardment was powerful enough to kill or stun most anything that was hiding away in there. Here and there explosions kicked up rubble and dust, damaging or collapsing the structures in its blast radius.

Nearing the first set of houses after about half a minute, the troops had to sit and wait a bit for the shelling to stop. The guns were a bit off on their timing, but it was better than having them stop early. The hurricane barrage finally ended, rather abruptly, and the troops began fanning out through the center. 

“Corrion, first house, right up front!”

“Got it; come one, team!”

“Paddock, take the support team and clear the house on the right!”

“The one with the big hole in its side?”

“Bottom floor? Yea, that’s the one!”

“Alright!”

“Jasper, Zanovich; you guys are with me! Kill anything coming down the main street!”

The two teams ran ahead a bit, finding respective bits of cover. There was noticeably little activity on the street, but they kept their eyes open all the same. A couple of Griffons ran out of a nearby basement in a daze and were quickly cut down. No others appeared as the two other teams finished clearing the houses.

“Squad, on me; we have to get to that bridge!” Baker ordered. It’s a straight shot down the road; just keep going and don’t stop unless you have to!”

The men got moving down the road, occasionally having to stop and deal with one or two stragglers. The other troops were also having a rather easy time, clearing out the shocked defenders from the shattered town. The move lasted around five minutes, but they reached the bridge itself easily.

“Fall in and get ready; when I give the signal, we’re going across-”

There were several separate, controlled explosions coming from the direction of the bridge. The spot the squad was standing in was darkened by dust, and all of them dropped to the ground and took cover. The shaking and rattling continued for a bit before things finally began to settle down. 

“Damn it, we’re too late,” Paddock observed.

“Hang on, I think it’s still up!” Corrion noticed.

“No way in hell that thing’s still standin’!”

“It’s there; c’mon, we have to move!” Baker ordered.

“Baker, you don’t really think we should go over that thing, do you?”

“Yes, now go!”

Baker was the first up, urging the others to follow in suite. Dragging a few up that still lay on the ground, the group finally got moving again. Getting through the cloud kicked up by the explosion, the men finally got onto the bridge.

First glance saw some noticeable holes in it, but nothing that looked immediately threatening to the structure’s sturdiness. Moving across, they met no resistance, which was to be expected; most of the run was spent in an eerie silence. Nearly at the other side, that silence was broken by a crack. Baker stopped and looked behind him, and saw Corrion, towards the rear of the group, fall onto the deck.

“Corrion’s hit!”

“Where’d it come from!?” Franky yelled, also stopping.

“Just go, you guys get to the other side! I’ll get him!”

Baker ran over to the soldier, and found him still alive after a quick check. The bullet went through his side; though if it was life-threatening, he was not sure. Picking him up, he slowly carried him to the other side and set him next to a wall as several soldiers from other units followed his squad across.

“Hey! Hey you, stop!” he called, grabbing a medic’s arm. “Can you take care of my man? I have to get back to the rest of my guys.”

“Yea, don’t worry; I’ll handle things.”

“Alright, thanks doc.”

“Matt, hey Baker!”

Baker looked around for the source of the voice, finding it to be Mac over down the road.

“Mac, what’s going on?”

“We’re still trying to clear out the buildings, but there’s a counterattack coming in from outside, probably behind those hills. Your squads already in a defensive position in a hotel down the road; you can’t miss it, it’s the only building that isn’t damaged.”

“What about Sam?”

“You can’t worry about that right now; get to your guys, or else we might lose a lot more of them.”

“Christ, are we really losing more men for this damn bridge?” Baker asked. “How many have we taken already? How many do we have to take to begin with?”

“Matt, we can’t argue about any of this right now.”

“When then, when we’re taking the next bridge, or the one after that?” he asked. “This is starting to go way too far, Mac; we’re wasting all this in a war that we didn’t have anything to do to begin with.”

“Baker, we do not! Have! The time!”

“When will we!? When will we have the time to stop and look at what we’re doing so...so-”

Baker stopped himself there; this conversation seemed familiar in a rather bad way.

“Damn, alright Mac; I’ll take care of it. Sorry.”

“Baker, can you do this?”

“Yea…yea, I’ll take care of it.”

“Alright…get at it then.”

Baker turned and began slowly walking down the long road, thought he gradually broke into a run as he remembered where he was. Running past the shattered hulks of buildings, he finally got to the end and spotted a single, large, undamaged building. He also saw a handful of griffons charging across a field from a hill, who were quickly cut down by fire from the structure.

“Zano, are you guys holding up ok?” Baker called, entering the hotel.

“Yea, we’re fine. Is Sam ok?”

“I don’t know, but I found him a medic before I left.”

“Alright, let’s finish this up so we can get home.”

The hotel was not very large, but was three stories; each man in the squad had his own window to fire from. The griffons, rather than attack in a concentrated form, charged towards the hamlet in piecemeal teams and squads; though several would come at once. Jasper’s decision to bring the machine gun paid off greatly here, easily cutting down the defenseless enemies from its excellent firing position. Indeed the whole attack, despite lasting some time, was rather half-hearted; with the attackers finally quitting as their numbers began to pile up for no real gain.

Another group of paratroopers came to relieve Baker’s men, allowing them to return to the rear. Marching back through the shattered hamlets, they were glad to see the American forces had suffered relatively light casualties as compared to other attacks. They also saw a long line of prisoners being pushed towards the rear, a clear sign that the shock bombardment had worked; many seemed demoralized, and the anger the men put against the ‘crows’ would not help it to go up. The biggest surprise was the sighting of a jeep with a familiar soldier lying wounded on top.

“Oh shit, Sam!”



> Deadman's Gun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
Everything kept going downhill. It was like a massive boulder tumbling down, something that was impossible for me to stop. All of the ones we’ve lost so far; Friar and Marsh, and McConnell and Red. Was Sam going to join them now? How many are we going to lose before this ends? And how many more are going to die when we got back to the war back home? So many are already gone from D-Day; all those men I can still see. I want this to end; I know how Red felt now. I don’t care about this outcome, or who takes what here. All I care about are the ones that are left. I just want it to end now.



The jeep that was carrying Corrion and Baker had to go all the way back to town, due to the seriousness of his injury. The main hospital for the troops was there, and Baker knew what going there meant. He would have to face Twilight again, and her friends. For a brief moment he considered just stopping at the nearby camp so he would not have to do that, but he quickly removed that thought from his head. Corrion was alive, and he needed proper help.

“I need a medic!” Baker yelled before the jeep had even stopped.

“How long has he been out?” the doctor asked, looking over an unconscious, bloody Corrion.

“Ten minutes I think.”

“Alright, let’s get him inside,” the doctor said, calling a couple of others to carry Sam into the tent with a large Red Cross painted over the top.

After that, Baker was not sure of what to do. He was no doctor, so there was no way to help. Going to do anything would probably get in the way and risk Corrion’s life even more. There was no real point in returning to the front, the rest of his troops would be arriving some time the next day. There was nothing more left.

He sat back on the hood of the jeep, looking over the names of the lost men again. He might have to add Corrion’s name to that list. But it was still too early to say. He was still alive for now, unlike the long list in front of him. There was no need to jump to conclusions. Whatever happened now was just going to happen, regardless of what he thought.

“Baker?”

He immediately recognized the voice to be Twilight’s, there was no doubt in his mind. He kept silent, not saying a word. He did not even think anything of it. He knew this would be coming, but he did not really know what to do now that it had come. So, he resolved to do nothing.

“Baker?”

He still refused to acknowledge her presence. His eyes were still stuck on the hood of the vehicle, reading the white painted names in no particular order; Obreski, Rivas, Garnett, Marsh, and then back to Obi. He kept going over these, one by one.

“Baker.”

The last voice was not the same, it was a man’s. A man he knew, or did know. The sound made him go cold. He froze in his reading, afraid to look up. But after a couple of seconds, he did so out of instinct. 

Standing there, behind the unicorn, was Leggett, again holding his own version of Baker’s infamous pistol. Baker became scared, but his face did not show it. To Twilight, it seemed he would finally acknowledge her. But he kept looking above her, past her, at something more devious.

“Thinking of breaking the paint out again?” Leggett asked. “You want to do it for Corrion this time? Or is it Red, he’s still here, you know.”

Baker did not answer; he just kept staring, keeping his vision focused on Leggett.

“Matt, is there something wrong?” Twilight asked, looking over her shoulder quickly. “Is there something else here?”

“What about those kids, Matt? You think you could’ve stopped their deaths?” Leggett continued, walking back and forth a bit. “Want to add their names to the list?”

Baker still did not answer.

“Well, what about this one?” Leggett asked, pointing the pistol at an unrespecting Twilight. “Is she worthy?”

Now Baker began to respond. A clear look of shock and horror came over his face. 

“Matt, what’s wrong?” Twilight asked. “Please, just talk to me.”

“Can’t hide the truth forever, Matt,” Leggett smirked, aiming at the pony’s head. “It’ll always weasel its way out.”

“No!” Baker yelled.

Just like that, Leggett was gone once again. Baker was breathing heavily, trying to recollect himself. He finally looked down at Twilight directly, making eye contact. He could feel himself slowly breaking down, bit by bit.

“I’m sorry,” he said, head shaking a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Twilight asked.

Baker went back to his silent state.

“Matt…”

She finally gave up, letting her head fall down and sighing. There was no real point to this now, he was probably thinking of something more important. In hindsight, she felt foolish for trying to talk to him again right after another soldier had been hurt. She felt foolish, and she walked away feeling that.

Baker watched her trot off, head hanging low. He felt hatred at himself, and a tad bit of fear. Looking around, he could not find Leggett, but he did find two other familiar faces. Allen and Garnett, both standing a ways away were staring at him. Their fatal wounds were clear, and they simply stared at him, like two curious animals.

Baker shook his head a bit. Things were simply becoming too much to handle anymore. Something had to be done about this, but he did not know what. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe things would be clearer then.



With the sun shining, it was actually a rather fine day, a kind that Baker felt he would never see again. He admitted that things were a bit better today. Corrion was going to be fine, with the bullet passing through without hitting anything major; he would even be fine to return to the squad. 

That was the main news of the day, though Baker still felt down. He contended himself with leaning up against the jeep again, still avoiding everyone. Even if Corrion would be alright, Leggett’s visit had stayed in his mind ever since.

He noticed Dawson walking over to him, though he did not really acknowledge him, and neither did Dawson. The Englishman leaned up against the other side of the jeep, wanting to stay. Baker still did not say anything, or even glance at him.

“It’s good Corrion will be alright,” he said. 

“We were lucky this time,” Baker replied.

“It’s about time we got some,” Dawson said, looking around at the camp. “We haven’t had any since we got here.”

“Guess it depends on what you see as luck.”

“And what do you see as luck?” Dawson asked.

Baker kept his silence.

“You’ll have to talk at some point, you know,” Dawson pointed out. “There are more than just commands going on in that head of yours.”

“You’re not really the one to hear them,” Baker replied.

“Maybe not, but I already know. You need to tell them to the people who don’t,” Dawson said. “Like her.”

Baker was confused for a moment, but understood when he looked back up. Applejack was almost in front of him, and he had not even noticed. He was cornered and trapped, with no real escape option.

“Matthew, I wanted to ask you something,” she said.

“What?”

“Did you let Apple Bloom touch that gun before she died?”

Baker was stunned by how blunt she was with it, and a little angry, but he kept his temper down.

“No, I didn’t,” he said simply. “I don’t let anyone touch it. Why would I let them?”

“Well, I know they looked up to you and-”

“I didn’t,” Baker reiterated. “You can stop worrying about it now. It’s just a tall tale one of my guys came up with.”

“Who was it?”

“He was just another soldier,” Baker explained. “You don’t know him, not many really do. He spent most of his time helping Mac.”

There was a short moment of silence between the three.

“I know about Kevin,” Dawson said.

“I don’t know a Kevin,” Baker responded.

“Private Kevin Leggett.”

“Who?” Applejack asked.

“I met him outside Carentan; seemed awfully distraught about something,” Dawson explained. “He opened up quick about what that something was.”

Dawson was going to continue, but Baker turned and pinned him against the Jeep.

“What do you want!?” 

“Exactly what I tried to tell you before, Matthew! That you’ve been hiding something about those dead soldiers,” Dawson said. “Allen and, uh… ah, I forgot the other chap’s name.”

“Garnett,” Baker growled.

“That’s the guy, yeah,” Dawson said, pushing himself up and causing Baker to back off. “You tell them, or I will. It’s your choice mate.”

With that, Dawson walked away, leaving Baker in an odd spot with Applejack. She was actually rather surprised, having never really seen Baker’s violent side. But she was right, Baker was hiding something. And it must have been something big.

“So, what are you gonna do?” she asked. “Is it going to be him or you?”

Baker thought on this for a moment, but the answer was obvious.

“Me,” he replied. “I’ll see about it I just don’t-”

“Excuse me, Sergeant Baker?” 

He looked over to see a unicorn nurse standing a short ways from them.

“Yes?”

“I need you to follow me, it’s important.”

She seemed to have a rather somber tone about her, and Baker did not like it. Applejack simply nodded to him, and the nurse led him off. On the way there, he passed the tent that Corrion was in. He seemed to be in good shape, with long, white bandages wrapping around his stomach and torso area. Sam had gotten lucky, very lucky. Both of them knew that to be true.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Baker asked.

“Yea,” he replied, hanging his head in silence a bit. “Matt, why do we have to be here anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Baker replied honestly.

“I can’t do this anymore, it’s just so pointless.”

Both were quiet for a minute.

“I can’t say I blame you much, Sam.”

“When are we going back?”

“I dunno,” Baker replied. “I thought it would be when we won, but now… I just don’t know.”

“Yea,” Corrion sighed. “Well, you keep going. It looks important.

Baker turned around towards one of the medical tents. Inside, the nurse led Baker to a quiet corner. He noted that it was eerily quiet inside, and rather inactive. Usually there would be a good number of patients to treat. 

“What’s this about?”

“It’s about your friend, Hartsock,” she said. “I’m afraid. Well, he’s… not going to make it.”

Matt stumbled back a bit, trying to get a hold of what she said.

“W-what? How?”

“Well, much of his spinal cord was damaged during the explosion. The worst is… actually in his neck, especially the upper portion,” she said. “We don’t have the medical advances here to save him. The only way he’s still alive is from some basic magic holding things in place, but there’s no real point, I’m afraid; it has to stop at some point, and he’ll die when it happens. He’s only on basic life support, he can’t even walk.”

“So… can he… talk?” Baker asked. 

“Yes, he can, for now; priority’s on the broken neck. He can still communicate and think fine. We just… thought it would be best for a friend to tell him. He talks about you all the time, when he’s conscious.”

“Alright, thank you,” Baker said.

She reached over and gave him a quick hug.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it can’t get easier, we just need to keep going.”

“Thank you,” Baker repeated, breaking away and walking into the room.

Red was lying still on a simple cot, alone. He was awake, staring at the top of the dark green tent. If the nurse had not told him ahead of time, Baker would have thought Red was already gone. He kneeled down on the ground next to him, and Red turned his head to see him.

“You get knocked out a bunch while I was gone?” Red asked in a low, raspy voice.

“No,” Baker responded, trying to think of what to say to him.

“How are the rest of my guys?”

“They’re with me now,” Baker said. “They’re all fine.”

“Good,” Red smiled. “It’s nice knowing they’re in good hands. They’re safe.”

That hit Baker hard; with all the men he lost, he felt like a failure. But here, Red was telling him how much of a protector he was. He had always lost so many men, and he always said it was his own fault. Now Red said he was the opposite of a failure, he was a savior.

“Red…” Baker choked up. “Red… there’s something we gotta talk about.”

“Is everyone ok?” Red asked. “I heard about Friar, and they told me Corrion is getting up again. But is everyone else-”

“Everyone’s fine, Red,” Baker said. “It’s… it’s about you Joe.”

“What?”

“Well erm…”

Baker choked again, trying to find out how to put it.

“It’s something bad?”

“Y-Yea… it’s pretty…”

Matthew slowly broke down more and more, and the first few tears began falling from his light blue eyes.

“Joe… you’re not… you’re just not going to be… going home.”

Red’s eyes opened a bit in surprise before shutting again tightly; he kept silent.

“When you got hit… in that building… your back was messed up… and your neck got out of shape and… these guys don’t have what they need to fix it,” Baker spat out slowly. “Red they can keep you awake for a bit, but… it just won’t help anything.”

Red just kept his eyes closed, and turned his head back onto his pillow while Baker grabbed his hand.

“Red, I need you to talk to me,” he cried silently. 

“And I never got to see my daughter…” Red moaned.

“Red when this war is done I’ll make sure your daughter is taken care of, I’ll make sure Erma is alright, even if I have to go over to Wyoming.”

“And I’ll never see home again, huh? My ranch…”

“Joe if there’s anything you want me to do for you, I will. You’re my best friend, Red. Just tell me,” Baker continued, sobbing progressively heavier as he went. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You were right and… and I should be the one dying here. This was my fault. I’m sorry, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Baker shut his eyes tightly again and continued to cry in silence. He should have never dragged his men into a war they had no business fighting. He had been fine throughout the whole thing, but they were getting picked off. Now Red would be next, and that was enough to drive Baker over the edge. It was just unfair that everyone else was suffering. 

He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from making the foolish decision to rescue Scootaloo. She was dead now, so that had been pointless. And his men were dying, thereby endangering the real operation on Earth. Everything went wrong, all because of him.

“You know Matt, I’m alright actually,” Red mumbled.

“W-what?” Baker stuttered.

“I’m alright with it. I’m sad, and scared, but… I’m ok,” Hartsock tried to explain. “It feels like I’ll be ok; like everything will be fine.”

Baker was not sure how to respond to this. Joe had been informed that he was going to die soon, something he had not fully considered before. Baker expected him to be anything but alright. Devastated at the prospect, angry at him for letting it happen, worried for his wife and child. Yet he was not. How tough? 

“It’s… an odd thing,” Red explained. “But I’m alright, thanks Matt. Tell the guys thanks, too. Tell them… they’re a good bunch; a real tough gang. You all will be fine if you work together.”

Baker simply nodded.

“Matt, I want you to do one thing for me.”

“Anything, Red,” Baker responded.

“Stay here and finish this war.”

Baker blinked a couple of times and shook a bit, tossing the water out of his eyes.

“What?” Red, you said-”

“I know what I said,” Hartsock replied. “Staying around here has been… a little eye opening.”

“Red, more men are going to die if-”

“One of the doctors taking care of me, he’d talk to me every day,” Red continued. “He told me about him having a wife, and his own daughter. And that he hadn’t seen them in so long.”

Both became quiet for a moment.

“Matt, they’re just like us,” he said. “Promise me you’ll stay here, until this fight’s really done.”

“I promise, Red.”

“Alright then,” Hartsock sighed. “You’d better get going.”

“Right.”

“Matthew Baker, it’s been an honor,” he said, gripping Baker’s hand into a firm shake, and weakly bringing his other up in a somewhat mangled salute, though he couldn’t get his fingers straight.

“Same for you, Joeseph Hartsock,” Baker replied, returning both gestures perfectly. 

“And Matt, one more thing,” Hartsock warned. “If you want to keep everyone alive, you’ll need to be able to cooperate well.”

“Alright.”

“Matt, tell them what happened, whatever it was,” Red ordered. “Tell everyone, and don’t spare things.”

“Al-Alright… Red.”

Red smiled warmly, making the moment more painful and more warming at the same time.

“Well, at least you learned something,” he said. “Take care.”

“Yea, you too Red,” Baker replied, standing up. “You too…”

Baker walked back out and into the sun again. He understood that things had to be dealt with now. He understood everything clearly; why it had to be done, how, when. Hiding had to stop. He immediately walked around and found Twilight, and ordered her to gather her friends while he got the rest of his troops.

“What for?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” he replied.

After a short few minutes, the entire group was assembled and Baker led them a bit away from the camp where it was quiet. Zano mumbled a bit about being interrupted while he was eating, but other than that it was totally quiet.

“Guys, you remember Allen and Garnett?” Baker asked. “And Leggett?”

Most of the soldiers replied in the affirmative, though the ponies kept quiet still.

“Remember when we found them? And how the first two were just lying there, dead? And Leggett was just sitting there, screaming?”

Most of them nodded grimly.

“There’s something else,” he explained. “Something… I’ve been holding onto for a long time.”

He motioned his hand for Twilight to step forward.

“You remember how you jumped into my head back when we first got here and saw everything?”

“Yea, I remember,” she shuddered. “It was terrible. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

“You already promised that,” Baker said blankly. 

“Oh. Well, I’ll remind you of it, then.”

“Twilight, I need you to do it again.”

“What!? Why?”

“Can you do it while I’m awake, just with my thoughts?”

“Yes, but-”

“And can you expand it to the others around you, so they can see?”

“I don’t know if all of my friends can see that,” she said. “I’m scared enough. I can’t imagine what Fluttershy would do.”

“Twilight, this is better seen than heard.”

The unicorn stared at him for a moment, seriously wondering if she should comply.

“Fine,” she sighed, lighting her horn up. 



Baker’s thoughts went back to Normandy, D-Day +3. It was near St. Come-Du-Mont, and the weather was perfect. What stood out were the corpses of two young paratroopers lying dead on the ground. A third, one with glasses and carrying a radio on his back, knelt down between them, starring into the dirt. Baker approached him, while the rest of the squad looked around a bit.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Leggett,” he said, crouching down to his level. “What happened?”

The distraught soldier began to recount just that.

“This is stupid, we should head back,” Leggett complained as he trailed slightly behind the other two soldiers.

“Which way is back at this point?” Garnett asked.

“The direction your back is facing,” Allen replied.

Leggett took the opportunity to speak up again.

“Mac said-”

“Jesus Legs, are you and Mac married?” Allen scorned, turning around. “Do you share a cottage in the summer?”

“Oh, here it comes!” Leggett replied. “Everyone gather around for some macho bullshit!”

“Uh, guys,” Garnett called, looking towards a hedgerow. 

“You know what your problem is, Leggett?” Allen continued.

“You! It’s you!” he yelled. “My problem is you!”

“No, it’s you!”

“Would you two shut the hell up!” Garnett yelled.

“You can’t deal with people!” Allen said, still facing Leggett. “Everyone hates you!”

“Everyone hates me Allen!? Wake up! They hate you too!” Leggett shot back. “The guys talk about you behind your back all the time! Even Garnett!”

“Leggett, shut up!” Garnett shouted. “There’s Germans everywhere!”

“I don’t give a shit!” Leggett replied, throwing down his rifle. “Hey Germans, we’re over here! Come kill us!”

Allen got in close to him, grabbing his shirt.

“Leggett…”

“If you had half a dick you would’ve hit me by now,” the radioman taunted.

“Give me a reason,” Allen warned.

With a quick motion, Leggett swung his right fist and caught Allen in the jaw, sending him onto the ground.

“How’s that for a fucking reason!?”

“Jesus, Leggett!” Garnett said, drawn back to the argument.

“Not right now! This is between me-”

He gave the grounded private a swift kick in the side.

“-and Allen!”

Before Garnett could stop them, he heard more voices. They were not in English, but in German. And they were close, very close. He quickly spun around again, showing off a pistol as he did so. It was quite clear to all that it was Baker’s pistol.

“Shit!” Garnett swore. “Leggett! Allen! Get the fu-”

There was the sharp crack of a rifle, and Garnett’s helmet flew off as he fell to the ground.

“No!” Allen yelled, scrambling up from the ground.

Allen quickly regained his footing and ran forward. One of the Germans rounded a tree right in front of him, and the young American quickly stabbed him in the throat, following him as he went down. However, as he did so, another appeared, and fired his rifle into Allen’s midsection.

He fell back, but quickly scrambled away, making it a bit before falling again pass Garnett’s body. Grabbing Leggett’s dropped rifle, he aimed and fired as the second German came around the tree, killing him. A third followed and attempted to shoot him, but his weapon jammed.

Seeing that he was lost, the German dropped to the ground, attempting surrender. Allen stared from his lying position. He took another look at his friend’s corpse, and then aimed back at the German, firing once more and killing him.

All this time Leggett stood still and watched in disbelief. He had not fought, he had not fired, he had not called for help, he had barely even moved. He merely sat there, not wanting to accept that this had happened. 

“I’m sorry, Kevin…” Allen moaned, collapsing flat onto his back.

Leggett finally collapsed onto his knees. He was entirely alone now. Just him and the corpses, two Americans and three Germans. He looked down at the body of the man he had been kicking not a minute earlier. The man who's final words had been those of apology to him.

"B... Ba... BAKER!"

“Leggett, don’t ever tell anyone what you just told me,” Baker commanded.

“Why?” Leggett moaned in a hurt voice.

“Because, they’ll kill you.”

Baker got back up, turned around, and proceeded back to the squad, who were waiting curiously.

“He didn’t see anything,” he said simply. 

Baker’s mind jumped forward a few days later to a rainy day near Carentan.  Just as it began, there was an explosion that knocked him onto his back, leaving him delirious. He leaned over and saw Leggett standing out in the open, on top of the dirt that was supposed to be his cover, and firing Baker’s pistol wildly at a tank nearby.

“You want me!? Fucking take me!” he yelled. “TAKE ME!”

There was another explosion, and Leggett’s body flew off and landed towards Baker, disemboweled and bleeding heavily. The glasses barely hung on, and his face was coated with blood. His eyes were fixed open, and his mouth remained loose, as if he were still yelling at them.



“There,” Baker ended simply. “Now you know.”

There was a collective silence, as no one knew exactly what to think or say. Both Fluttershy and Rarity were sick of it halfway through, and Twilight had been gracious enough to let them go when they could not take anymore. Applejack just stared in an almost apologetic way, as if she wanted to say sorry, but did not know how. It was actually Corrion who spoke up first in an angry tone.

“Matt… the whole time… the whole fucking time you knew exactly what happened to them?”

He furiously got up and stormed off, with Baker following and leaving the others to ponder their own thoughts. 

“Sam-”

“Don’t fucking do that!” he said, turning around and glaring at Baker. “Don’t stoically say my name and act like that, not now! Matt, we will never fight together again.”

He turned around again and continued on his way. Baker was again alone, and he did not go after him this time. He began to seriously wonder if he had done the right thing just then. That was just Corrion’s reaction, what about the rest? 



Again, Baker said nothing for the rest of the day. Again, he simply went to bed without another word. As the sun came up again, and the new day began to grow, that silence seemed to continue, mainly because no one made an effort to talk to him, at least until Mac arrived, and the two sat down to discuss the events over the last few days over a smoke.

“So that’s really it for Red?” Mac asked.

“That’s it,” Baker replied.

“Well damn, I always thought he’d make it back home,” Mac explained. “Out of that whole group, he didn’t seem high on the list.”

“Guess that’s why it’s such a surprise,” Baker said.

“And we’re so close to finishing this, too,” Mac continued. “We just need to stay a little more, and we’d be done. Of all the times Red had to get hit…”

Mac took a long draw from his cigarette. 

“Feels odd losing people, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“You never really get used to it,” Baker admitted.

Baker looked away, staring at the remaining men, gathered in a circle and talking.

“You alright?” Mac asked again.

“I told them,” Baker admitted.

“Told them what?”

“A told them about Leggett,” Baker clarified. “About what he did… and about what I did-”

“Matt! I told you never to tell them that!”

“I know, it’s just…”

“How’d they take it?” Mac asked.

“Could have been better,” Baker admitted. “But, it could’ve been worse.”

“Do they know about Red yet?”

Baker turned his head back to the squad for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should tell them,” Mac suggested.

“I don’t know, they might just blame me,” Baker worried.

“How would they?”

“I don’t know, that’s what scares me,” Baker said. “I’ll go work on it.”

Baker sighed, took one last draw, and walked over, tossing the smoke aside. He did not actually walk over to the men, but off on his own to a tree. He reached the shade of the leaves and sat down under it, slouching against the trunk. He pulled out the pistol and looked over it a bit.

Regardless of them knowing about Leggett, this piece was still the cause of so much friction. Telling them Leggett’s story would not solve any of that; in fact, it would probably worsen it. Baker wished he had thought of that before telling. It only made things harder.

“Well, now this looks familiar,” Leggett said. “It would appear we have much more in common than you’d originally thought.”

Baker watched him walk around him and the tree in a circle.

“’Bulletproof Matt Baker’, reduced to tears at the loss of a friend,” he continued. 

“It’s not the same,” Baker replied.

“Well that’s the rub, isn’t it?” Leggett asked. “It is the same. You stand, knees buckling over the weight of your own guilt. You are history repeating itself.”

“I’m still alive,” Baker replied, mixed in both desperation and anger. “That’s more than I can say for you!”

“Are you?” Leggett asked again. “There’s not much to say about me Matthew; I was weak, and frail, and crushed by a secret you told me to keep.”

“I was protecting you,” Baker claimed.

“Protecting? Is it the same kind of ‘protecting’ you did with those little girls?”

“They had names-”

“And what about Joe, huh?” Leggett continued, kneeling in front of him. “What about all the others? They trusted in you, Matthew, but they aren’t here either. Exactly how much is your protection worth?”

“Stop…” Matthew begged. “Please…”

“Stop? This is not your stop, there’s more road ahead,” Leggett replied with the slightest of grins. “Tell me Matthew, you’ve made it through hell, how do you feel about snow?”

Baker looked up at Leggett, staring into his eyes.

“I can handle snow.”

Just like that, Leggett was gone again. To Baker, it was good; he needed to sort things out now. There could not be any more waiting. He had gotten part of it out of the way, now he just had to finish it, and mend things over to how they should be.

Getting up from his spot, Baker marched back to the camp, gun still swinging in his hand. He noticed Dawson was watching him, which did not really matter to him anymore. If Dawson wanted to fret over the encounter some more, fine; he would have to do it latter.

“Where are you going with that bloody gun?” Dawson asked.

“I’m surprised a higher power didn’t already give you an answer,” Baker replied, walking right past him.

“Well I think you should slow down!”

“Can’t, people to see.”

Baker continued on to the rest of the men, who were loitering next to the jeep.

“Hey, Baker,” Paddock acknowledged him slightly. “Any, uh… any news on Red?”

“Red’s not going to make it,” Baker replied bluntly.

This got the attention of the rest of the men, who stopped whatever they were talking about and swung whichever way to face the Sergeant. 

“Joe’s dying!?” Franky asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Baker confirmed. “They medical personnel did what they could.” 

“This can’t be real,” he replied. “How could this happen to Red?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Baker said simply. “He said he was fine with it, he wasn’t worrying at all; neither should you.”

Franky had a hard time taking everything in, as did the others. It was enough of a shock that Hartsock would not be coming back at all, but how could he be ok with it? Not one part of the mix made a bit of sense to them. 

“And he told you that?” Corrion asked.

“He said it right to me, while I was breaking it to him,” Baker explained. “You know what else he said? He made me promise to him that we would stay here until this fight was over, until we won.”

The troops were all entirely quit now, not sure of what to say, so they all figured it was best to say nothing.

“Men, I know we’ve been here for are too long, and I know there’s not a person here who didn’t give everything they could,” Baker continued. “But some gave more. We lost McConnell, Friar, Marsh… and now Red. But I’m sure as hell not letting them die for nothing.”

The group continued to watch closely, as if they were watching a preacher give a sermon.

“We’ve all made mistakes, we’ve all questioned what we’re doing here, and we’ve all been burdened by the cost of the fight. But we can’t give up now; I won’t give up,” Baker stated. “I’m not retreating; I’m standing alongside all of you. All hell might have broken loose, but I’m still standing right here. I’ll lead you through this and back home if it last’s till the end of time!”

“I know some of you don’t trust me right now; some of you still cling to superstition,” Baker continued, looking at Sam and Dawson. “That ends right now!”

He held the ‘death pistol’ up in his hand.

“I know we all feel like we need something to blame, something to understand why this has to happen to us, to those we lost, but it’s not this!” he said, gripping the pistol in front of him. “This is nothing. I know bad things happen with it, and I know there’s a trail following it, but it’s just a goddamn gun!”

He turned and chucked the weapon as hard as he could into the distance.

“Here we are,” Baker finished, “Brothers, fathers, saints, and sinners; let’s finish this, and we’ll bring the fight back to the Germans.” 

“Well…shit,” Paddock murmured. “If you’re gonna use all them pretty words.” 

“I can’t,” Corrion said, not really ready to agree fully.

As he turned to walk away from the group, an arm reached out in front of him and stopped him. Franky moved his entire body to stop Corrion from walking away, and got in rather close to him. Corrion, and the others, seem rather surprised by the move.

“No, Sam,” Franky said, in a rather mature voice that none had heard before. “You’re staying.”

“And why is that?” Corrion replied.

“What the hell are you gonna do, Corrion!?” Franky said. “Run of and join the circus and be a freak or animal for them? Did you forget where we are?”

“I know where we are-”

“Then stop being such a bastard!” Franky yelled. “You’re lucky, at least you’re alive! What about Red? You’re just going to forget about him.”

“Red would never-”

“You just heard what Red wanted, you know damn well!” Franky continued, getting closer with none of the men trying to stop him. “What the hell happened to your loyalty? You two were both in Normandy, what the hell happened to that? Or are you just holding a grudge because he got promoted to squad leader before you?”

That seemed to push Corrion almost entirely over the edge.

“Red was more of a soldier that you’ll ever be, you stupid ass kid!” he yelled back.

“Would you prefer that I died instead of him?” Franky asked. “I would’ve. What about McConnell, would you prefer him over me? Well, I fucking would’ve! If I could trade places with any of them, I would. Can you say the same thing!?”

Franky was now right in front of Corrion, not very separated. 

“You’re the one that needs to grow up,” Franky continued.

Baker felt himself unable to really move, even though he really wanted to stop the argument now. He was not entirely sure about what would become of either man if he did stop it, rather than let it work itself out, but he just wanted to end it. All the men seemed to feel the same.

“If you were really a man you’dve hit me by now,” Corrion claimed.

“Gimme a reason,” Franky replied, now almost at his face.

Baker could not let this happen again.

“Stop!” he ordered.

The word seemed to break the entire group from a trance, as they all did stop and looked back to him.

“Sam, if you have to be mad, you can be mad at me,” Baker said. “I can’t lame you. But the other guys haven’t done anything. You all need each-other more than you need me.”

Corrion turned and blinked a bit. There was a rather long moment of silence amongst the whole lot. Sam started shaking his head a bit until he finally let it droop over, staring sadly at the ground. He could be heard breathing heavily. Franky seemed to back off, as well, staring back and forth between Baker and Corrion.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” he said. “I’m sorry about everything; I just wish I could do a little more.”

Baker walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, looking at Corrion’s face.

“I know how that feels,” he said. “Like I said, just try and sort things out on your own. You guys need each other more than me; I’m not really bulletproof, you know.” 

“Baker, we need you too,” Zano said from where he was standing on the left. “I sure as hell couldn’t lead these guys.”

“Hell, I’d probably pop one or two myself,” McCreary added. “You’ve got the patience some of these kids need.”

“You’re serious?” Baker asked.

“Na, not really. At least, I think I’m not; I can’t tell what’d happen in-”

“No, about the other part,” Baker said.

“Not everyone can lead well,” Holden added. “People like you and Hartsock are naturals; his loss only makes you more valuable.”

“That’s about it. Remember when Mac got hit in Carentan?” Courtland reminded the veteran. “We sure as hell couldn’t have afforded to lose him. We can’t lose you, either.”

“Unless you wanna retire and let me take your spot,” Paddock joked. “Either way, we’re still standing here.” 

It was the first time Baker truly felt important. He had felt importance when he had been given a mission to accomplish or a job to do, but it was the first time he felt others seem him as important in his existence. Vital, seemed to run through his head a lot. He felt vital to keeping things running, and he felt important to the actual people around him.

“Red said you guys were a tough bunch,” Baker replied simply, a smile over his face. “I guess things are settled for now. Go ahead and relax, and before we know it this fight’ll be over. I’m gonna go talk to Mac some more and see about what’s left.”

Baker left with that, feeling rather satisfied with the outcome. As he started off, he noticed Applejack trotting over to him, apparently not far away from the entire show. Baker stopped; there was one more thing to sort out that he had almost forgotten.

“Hey, Matt,” she said, quickly trotting up to him. “I uh,-”

“I want you to have this,” Baker said, reaching into his shirt’s pocket and taking out the small cape/handkerchief that Scootaloo and her friends had given him for their little club. “And I just want you to know that I would’ve done anything to keep your sister and her friends alive. I never let Apple Bloom touch any of my things, or Scootaloo, or Sweetie. If I could trade places with them, I’d do it.”

Baker figured he should thank Franky for that line latter.

“T-Thanks,” she stammered. “I uh, it’s… mighty kind of you. I’m sure they’d all appreciate that.”

Baker could she tears in her eyes forming up again, but she still smiled. 

“But, I think you should have it,” handing it back to Baker.

“No, Applejack I really-”

“I got Apple Bloom’s from their little clubhouse,” she explained. “Besides, I’m sure Scoots would’ve wanted you to keep it.”

“I guess she would’ve.”

“I know she would’ve,” Applejack said. “You saved her. She always talked about you to my sis, and she told me plenty in turn.”

Baker just smiled a bit in understanding. 

“So, what were you going to tell me?” he asked.

“I got something for you,” she said. “I wouldn’t really know what to do with it.”

Reaching back, she pulled out Baker’s pistol and held it up to him in her hooves.

“I know you tossed it and all, but I figured you’d want it back at some point,” she said.

“AJ…”

“Don’t worry about that silly curse,” she assured him. “Like you said, it’s just a gun.”

Baker took a deep breath, trying hard to shake the worrying away, even though he couldn’t fully expel it.

“Thanks, I guess I should hang on to it,” he said. “No need for some other pony to get a hold of it and hurt someone by accident.”

“Exactly,” she replied.

Baker kneeled down to her level a bit to take it and was wrapped in a crushing hug.

“No more hard feelings,” she assured Matthew. 

“Thanks, AJ,” he said, feeling more like a friend to her than ever.

He put the pistol back in its holder, the cape back in his pocket, and returned to his walk to back to Mac, hoping to get an estimate on how much longer they’d be here. If he had to guess, it would not be more than a week, at best. And yet for the first time, he felt like he did not want to leave. 

> Our Own Masters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baker
When you spend your whole life trying to hide something you feel like you have to hide, and then just… letting it go, there’s a relief that washes over you; a feeling that everything is going to be alright. But at this point, from what I’ve seen, I know better. Just because part of your journey is finished doesn’t mean the whole thing stops all at once. One battle might be over, but there’s still the war to win.



Time had passed on quickly, and with little real activity lately. The lack of missions and direct combat operations began to sink into the men, and a sense of relaxation had set in. With little to do, the days and weeks began to blur into each other, and time began to pass unnoticed. October came and went, and much of November did, as well. The fall, with its coolness and colors, began to give way to the winter, with the temperature dropping to increasingly uncomfortable levels. 

But Baker and most of the soldiers did not mind. There had not been a major battle since the one to seize the bridge, for them at least. There had been a couple of large skirmishes between the humans and Griffons, but the enemy seemed to be running out of steam as Equestria’s military began to push back and the paratroopers succeeded in hurting some of the best units in the Griffon military. With Thanksgiving being celebrated in town, along with one of the best meals the soldiers had gotten since their arrival, many grabbed a sense that the war, at least this war, was done. 

“And then it’s back to ours,” Baker said to himself as he walked along on of Ponyville’s dirt roads. “And then after that, it’ll be time to go home; our real home.”

Baker swore he would remember to keep Hartsock’s promise. He would find his wife and daughter, and offer whatever assistance was needed, if they requested any; money, work, housing, and anything else that they required. No doubt it would be difficult for them, as they would probably get the news before he could tell them in person, but he could at least be there to comfort them.

Stopping and reaching into his pocket, he took out the one thing he got from Hartsock. Joe’s wedding brand still had some shine to it, and still had the string attached from; if Baker went looking for his family for any other reason, it was to give this back. At this point, not much else mattered. 

“Sergeant,” a commanding voice called from nearly right over his shoulder.

Baker looked back and saw Celestia, standing there with a grim look on her face, and jumped a bit. 

“God, you scared me!” he replied before regaining his composure. “Sorry, Princess. What are you doing around here, ma’am?” 

“I will tell you, but first we must meet with the heads of your forces,” she said urgently. “I needed to find you first, with my student being a liaison to you. But the other two are already at the town hall."

Baker wanted to ask another question, but Celestia moved past him before it could leave his mouth. Instead, he followed along with the nearly jogging alicorn until they reached the town hall, which seemed mostly empty form the outside. Upon entering, he found only two other individuals there; Generals Taylor and Gavin of their respective divisions. The whole situation spelled out bad news to Baker; if Celestia had to bring those two in, something big was happening. And from her state of worry, he guessed it was not good. 

“I am grateful you all have the time to meet me,” she stated, not bothering with any formal greetings. 

“Of course Princess, is there a problem?” Taylor guessed from her anxious state.

“Yes, and I am afraid I must go directly to it, as there is little time,” she said, doing just that. “I was informed earlier today that another nation near our border, the Changeling Empire, has entered the war against us.”

A few moments of dire, hard silence held as the two generals thought of how to respond; the Princess did not wait for them.

“They have already moved into our lands through the penetrations the Griffons made, and have begun attacking our troops, which, I am afraid, are not in the condition to fight off a fresh opponent.” 

“And… you want us to deal with them, as well?” Taylor asked, only for Celestia to shake her head in denial. 

“No, this task is too dangerous; their numbers are far too great, and they have already begun moving before we could respond,” she explained in her grim tone. “Battling them would only lead to your destruction, something I cannot allow after all you have done.”

Silence took over again as Taylor searched for the exact words to say. It seemed daunting, but he had a hard time believing that a whole new nation had entered the fray, and that they would be wiped out. Before he added any comments, he decided to ask what the Princess had planned.

“Ma’am, what will you do? What do you want us to do?”

“The Changelings are still a short distance from Ponyville and the area around it,” she explained. “I do think I have perfected a spell to return you to your world; you must assemble your men to be returned. As for us… I am afraid that my armies cannot hold all of our ground. It would be best to open negotiations with them, and we will more than likely have to concede sizable amounts of territory to them… including this town.”

None of the Americans there could stomach that. For all this time, they had fought and bled so that this place would not fall under some other nation’s flag. And after all of the fighting that had occurred, after coming so close to their goal, an entirely new nation had jumped in like a thief interrupting a nearly-finished duel, striking at them to take what they had fought so hard to gain. They could not, and would not, accept it. 

“Sergeant, you’ve seen your share of the front,” Taylor stated, going straight to his decision regardless of the answer. “You think the men can handle another army?”

Baker thought of it for all of a second, but he already knew what the answer to that was.

“They shouldn’t be a problem, sir.”

“I didn’t think they would be,” Taylor replied with a grin. “I figured there’s still some fight in us. General Gavin?” 

“What… are you talking about?” Celestia asked, despite knowing the answer already.

“Off the top of my head? I think we can stick around a little longer,” Gavin replied. 

Now Celestia had her turn to be surprised. It was already stunning that these troops had stayed and fought one war, and now they were going to stay and fight a second. It was almost as if they were trying to be destroyed in battle, and take as many with them as possible.

“You have no need to stay here, otherwise you would be wiped out,” she warned ominously. “You’ve given far more than ever expected, we could not ask this.” 

“It’s more than just helping you all now,” Taylor pointed out. “We’ve lost a lot just to get where we are; we’re not letting all that go in vain, not a chance in hell.”

Celestia looked over to Baker, whom she believed had seen the most of the conflict.

“The general’s right, I can’t leave and let my men’s deaths be for nothing.”

“I… I suppose I cannot say no,” she admitted. “But you cannot attack an entire army with the forces you have, especially after being weakened from fighting the Griffons. Fight or not, the Changelings will overrun much of the area around it.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds foolish,” Baker agreed, though still not dissuaded from staying.

“I’m not planning on attacking, since we’ve got control of most of the major areas around town,” Taylor replied, strategizing in his mind. “Defense would be the best option, but we can’t win a war by staying on the defense, especially when we can’t defend an extended area.” 

“Ma’am, didn’t you say this town was very vital? That it was part of the reason the war started?” Gavin recalled, hypothesizing a possible solution. 

“Yes, General; Ponyville is of great importance in a number of ways, the most immediate being its roadways.”

“So then could we just defend the town itself, since it’s their main objective?”

From a small standpoint, it did seem like a sound strategy. Ponyville, as a hub, was important for any activity that involved travel in the region. The Changelings would be sending most forces there, and they could not afford to leave it be. If time were bought, the Equestrian military could at least stabilize the situation, and maybe even push back. Celestia pondered for a bit before responding in a more confident tone.

“Yes, it is possible. If Ponyville can be defended, then it would be possible to broker a better deal at the negotiating table with our foes; at least to the point of the return to pre-war borders,” she theorized. “Though I must warn you that if you choose to fortify your troops here, we will be unable to hold on to any land ourselves. Our forces are already disorganized and battered… you will be completely surrounded.”

“We’re the Airborne ma’am, we’re meant to be surrounded,” Taylor replied, finalizing the decision. 



“So that’s the basics of it,” Baker explained to his men. “There’s another army coming at us, and we have to hold here and wear them out. If we don’t they’ll run over the whole country, and the whole fight will be pointless.” 

Most of the men in the squad simply stared, contemplating what was happening and how to answer it. Some looked away slightly at the ground or to the side. Only Paddock said anything at first, mumbling a few swears to himself under his hand before returning to normal. 

“Alright,” Zanovich finally spoke up, breaking the odd quiet. “We know how long that’ll take?”

“We’re not sure, but it’ll probably be a month or two; maybe more,” Baker replied, giving the best estimation from what he was told.

“What about the size of this army?” Holden asked.

“Not sure about that either; but it’s big.” 

Other than an aggravated sigh from a few of the soldiers, most of them remained quiet, not willing to ask anything else that would lead to more bad news. Their faces did not hold much reaction, remaining largely blank and almost uncaring. It was worrying in a way, but none of them said anything, only waiting for the notification to end so they could go about their individual business.

“I’m sorry this happened, but all we have to do now is hold on to what we’ve got,” Baker continued. “So keep that in mind and get your things ready for this. I’ll get back to you if anything else comes up.” 

No questions were asked, and no comments arose. Each soldier held his silence to take in the scale of this new task. Anger, fear, confusion, and a whole variety of feelings came over the group, but none of it showed. All of them were suppressed and hidden deep away under the layers cold callousness. 

The group began to disperse without warning, with everyone going their own way. None of them had asked Baker if they could disperse, but he allowed it for this one time. In truth, he wanted to end the discussion as soon as possible. The lifelessness of his squad scared him deeply, and it surprised him how he, also, cared so little about having to stay longer. He was not sure if this was bad or good, but figured there was no controlling it.

Upon returning to his own bunk, he found himself without anything to do, and decided to sleep and hope that something would come up over that time. He no longer worried about the possibilities of the future, only focused on what was coming. Everything else had been removed. In an odd way, it was a very liberating feeling.