War has errupted in Equestria and a call to arms has been announced to all the land, to serve in Celestia's Army. Amongst the thousands are the local residences of Ponyville and Appleloosa who volunteer for a new branch of the army called the Colt Volunteer Battalions, nicknamed Coltgrenadiers by the officers who lead them. As the war progress, more ponies are needed to serve and a draft is established, and amoungst the names are some familiar faces, along with new ones.
No ponys were harmed in the writing of this fanfiction
The sun was shining high in the sky above Ponyville’s main square. Every pony was out and about, going on with their lives as William Hooves walked down the street. This young grey colt had just arrived from the train station, hoping to start his life away from his farming community of Neighburg to the south. His yellow mane flowed through the breeze and his tail swung at each step. Overhead, the pegasi were hard at work, clearing away yesterday's rain storm and a flock of birds flew by the Town Hall roof. William had just arrived by train this morning, along with other refugees. The war front had reached his home and many ponies left in a hurry, leaving anything they couldn't carry behind. His family were unfortunate enough to make the trip. A stray artillery round had crashed through the roof right above their bed during the night. He was lucky enough to get out as enemy soldiers were coming through the fields, reaching the house and ransacking it until it was empty. His mind was elsewhere when he accidentally ran into a big red stallion with a green apple on his flank.
"Oh, sorry sir. I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going." He apologized.
"It alright." He replied. He didn't seem too mad and helped William to his hooves. "Name's Big Macintosh, but my friends call me Big Mac."
"Really?"
"Eeyup."
"Well, Name's William. I just came in from Neighburg." He replied.
"Neighburg? I knew ponies in Neighburg. Might friendly farm folk they were. Shame what happened, with the war an' all." Mac said. As he was about to continue, a young pinto colt rushed passed them. Mac grabbed hold of his tail and pulled him back. "What's going on Pipsqueak?" He asked the pinto. Pipsqueak looked up.
"Oh, hey Big Mac. Some officer from the CVB arrived with a box. I hear it has the names of every pony in Ponyville, even around Equestria. Every pony's going over to the Town Hall to hear them." Pipsqueak replied. He managed to get his tail free and continued on his way. Mac and William soon followed the pinto. -- The Town Hall green was filled with ponies as they looked onto the bandstand set up nearby, with two large stallions standing on it; one a unicorn Royal Guard and the other an earth pony with a pipe positioned under his moustache. He was wearing a grey uniform jacket with a tan collar and cuffs. His dark blue officer kepi neatly positioned between his ears. In between them was the box Pip had mentioned, with the top removed. Every pony there, including Big Mac and Williams watched as the first folded piece of paper was pulled out at random.
"Thunder Dash!" The unicorn shouted. The grey Pegasus rose above the crowd, his hoof up high.
"Mr. Dash, please report to the station. One of my officers will be waiting there." The Officer shouted, removing his pipe and placing it back into its container. Thunder Dash saluted and flew over the crowd. The officer nodded his head and another name was called out. An hour had passed and thirty names were called, including Mr. Cakes. The unicorn pulled out another name.
"Big Macintosh!" He shouted. Every pony turned to the back of the crowd, where Big Mac and William sat. Big Mac knew his sister was out in the crowd somewhere, along with her friends. Before he could give them the chance, he raised his hoof up high.
"Eeyup!"
"Report to the Train station, if you will." Big Mac got up and walked away towards the station. A few seconds later, the crowd shuffled and six other ponies rushed out after him, one of them was hoping. Williams watched as another was called.
"William Hooves!" He turned his head.
"Is William Hooves here?" The guard shouted again. William couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Last Call for William Hooves!"
"Here, sir!" He shouted, his hoof high in the air. He looked on as the officer seemed to study him. 'Does he know me?' He thought. The officer then shouted out.
"Mr. Hooves, report to the station if you will."
"Yes Sir!" William replied, lowering his hoof. He then turned towards the station and walked away. 'Where have I seen him before? He looks familiar.' William continued to think about the officer. -- The platform was littered with ponies, talking to the newly drafted service colts. Each pony had a large saddlebag with anything from personal items to blank papers to serve as letters home. William didn't have anything when he arrived, and he certainly didn't have anything now. He wanted to stand with Big Mac since he knew him, but he couldn't find him. Who he did find was Pipsqueak and another pinto around his size and age, but was grey with orange hair and a brown cap. How did they get into the army? They were just young colts. He walked over to them to find out.
"Hello Pipsqueak."
"Oh hey. You were with Big Mac, but I didn't catch your name."
"It's William. Who's your friend?" William looked to the other pinto.
"My name's Newsprint Dulivan." The grey pinto replied with a grin.
"Aren't you tow a bit young to fight?" He asked. The two looked away, as if they were hiding something. William knew that look from his younger sister whenever she lied about something.
"We may have tampered with the age requirements."
"In other words, you lied." A nearby pony overheard. It was the officer from the bandstand, but there seemed to be some anger in his voice. He looked to see William next to them. "Your William Hooves. I should have know Haysten's boy would end up under my command." He said.
"You knew my father?"
"Of course. We were classmates together back in Neighburg. You have your father's eyes Will." He replied.
"Haybrun? Mr. Haybrun?" William chuckled. Only family friends called William Will.
"It's Colonel Haybrun now soldier. My Profession comes first, as should yours." He then turned his attention to the pintos. "Now as for you two, I'll let this slip by. You two will serve as powder colts for the artillery company. Hopefully that will keep you out of harm's way."
"Yes sir." The two saluted. -- The train whistle blew, signaling every pony aboard. Mr. Cakes gave Mrs. Cakes one last kiss, along with Pound cake and Pumpkin cake. Pip and Newsprint waved back to their families and Big Mac slowly stepped onto the train. He turned back to see Granny Smith, Applejack and Applebloom sit there, trying to hold back tears. He got back off and gave them one last group hug. AJ's friends also joined the hug as the whistle blew one last time. The hug ended and he boarded once more, this time not looking back. William was the last one to board as the cars shuttered and slowed pulled away from the platform. Farewells shouted from both sides flowed through the summer breeze, only to slowly die out as the distance got greater until each other were out of sight. The war had reached Ponyville.
The train came to an abrupt halt, awaking everyone aboard. As the ponies aboard slowly emerged from their slumber, officers rushed about, shouting and waving around batons.
"Get off the train! Move it! Let's go!" one officer shouted as every pony started to scatter and scurry off as fast as they could without trampling each other. One colt jumped out the window just in front of William. Big Mac helped Mr. Cakes and the two pintos off by barging his way through the crowd.
"Let's go private! Get to your hooves! Hop to it!" another shouted, then noticed William. Before he could give the officer the chance to get near him, William jumped out the window into the blinding sunlight. The train had stopped at an large campsite out in the middle of the desert, but he could tell they were somewhere near Appleloosa. The large crowd or recruits were now out and about, stretching their legs and trying to readjust to the bright light. The officers from aboard the train started tossing the bags out of the train and onto the ground near the tracks.
"Claim your luggage and form into filed ranks of five columns, ten ponies each!" a third officer shouted from the engine compartment. "Any unclaimed baggage will be 'donated' to the war effort." Ponies soon searched through the massive piles of luggage, and once they got theirs, they tried to form the ranks. William looked for his, but he couldn't find it, that was until he heard a familiar grunt. He turned around to see Big Mac, with his baggage strap in his mouth.
"Thanks." William said. Mac dropped the bag.
"Not a problem, I already found Mr. Cakes and these two here, so why not find yours." He said, Newsprint and Pipsqueak right behind him, their luggage dragging through the dust. Once William grabbed the luggage strap and flung it around his neck, they group trotted over to a nearby group who seemed to know what they were doing. It was there when Big Mac noticed a familiar brown hat.
"Braeburn? Braeburn is that you Cousin?" Mac shouted. The yellow colt wearing the brown hat turned to see who was talking to him, and noticed the large red Stallion.
"Cousin Macintosh! Long time no see." Braeburn worked through the column and reached the group. Braeburn was sure glad to see a familiar face, even if it was family. "Does Applejack know your here?" He asked.
"She wanted to keep me from coming here." Mac replied, a chuckle under his breath. He then looked around and back to him. "Do you know where we are Cos?" Before he could reply another voice interrupted.
"I'm glad you asked Private Macintosh." every pony turned their attention to the Colonel standing on top of a crate. The white war stallion seems to shine from the sun and his pipe was tucked away. On his flank were two rifles, bayonets fixed, crossing over each other.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Colonel Kelly Haybrun, Commanding officer of the First Royal Rifle Corps. For the next three months, you will be trained into soldiers, into Coltgrenadiers; and for the next three months, your flanks belong to me!" He shouted. "As for where we are, This is Fort Orchard, seven miles from Appleloosa and your home away from home. Today, you'll get yourself settled into your assigned barracks, determined by where your standing now. Once you are comfortable, you will report to the mess hall for a welcoming party." He continued. He could tell that half of these recruits wouldn't last a week once they started tomorrow. He then noticed a hoof raise up into the air.
"Yes Soldier?"
"Where is Fort Orchard?" the black colt asked.
"This is the first part of your exercise today. You are to take a mile run to Fort Orchard, with your gear on your back. First Company to arrive gets to pick their barracks, and a special surprise tomorrow morning." Haybrun replied. Every pony soon started off down the trail, gunning at full speed. As for Mac's company, they took their time by making sure the younger colts could make the trek.
"Here. Let me take that Pip." William offered to take his bag.
"I can do it." Pip refused and started walking. Newsprint also refused help from Big Mac and followed after him. William went after them, followed by Mr. Cakes and then Braeburn. Big Mac took the rear, to help any pony who started to lag behind. -- About a half mile into the hike, the group met up with the first two companies who dashed out at the start, panting and gasping for breath. The unusual summer heat had caught up with them while they continued on, slowly starting to sweat. Pipsqueak and Newsprint collapsed on the ground, panting and sweating.
"Dang. I thought this would be easy." Newsprint said.
"It would be if you didn't run off like the other companies."
"It would be even better if we didn't have our bags. Are these filled with rocks or something?" Pip asked. A colt nearby opened his to find a large rock.
"Does that answer your question?" Mr. Cakes joked. The yellowish- orange stallion was more of a baker, not a soldier but he knew when to carry on, same as Big Mac and William, who were way ahead of them on the ridge. From there, they could see Fort Orchard. The fort looked like a large camp with three foot wooden barricades. There were several large barns and a stone structure nearby.
"That must be it." Thunder Dash panted. His wings trying to flap with the luggage weighing him down, he then took off as fast as he could. William took this as a challenge and took off after him, followed by Mac and Braeburn, who had just joined them. The four ponies panting and groaned as they hurried to the gate, where two guards were sitting in the shade of a makeshift lean-to. Their tan field jackets and grey steel helmets seemed to blend with the dirt, and rifles stacked up against the barricade.
"Hey, Lawrence. Take a look at this." The guard looked up, his horn barely visible through his light brown hair. He had removed his helmet. The tan earth pony next to him looked up, waking up from a nap. His brown mustache/sideburn dusted with dirt as his hazel eyes looked on as William dashed past them, followed by Thunder Dash and Big Mac.
"Must be the new recruits Haybrun told us about." Lawrence replied. "Come on, lets go see who needs help." He took off, as the unicorn guard grabbed his helmet and followed after. More ponies soon staggered into the fort, trying to regroup into their companies. William and Dash panting, wheezing from the dust cloud they had brought in with them.
"Dang William, you sure can run." Dash panted.
"Thanks.." William sighed as he got back up onto his hooves. Haybrun was already there, sitting on a cover patio just across from the gate. The large flagpole stood above the barn roofs, with the Royal Equestrian Banner fluttering in the breeze.
"So, who made it first?" He asked. William and Dash soon starting talking over each other, saying they were first in. Haybrun gave a blank face.
"Captain, who came in first?" Haybrun shouted to the mustached colt, who was helping in the last straggler.
"It was the earth pony, Colonel. The boy sure can run." He replied.
'I should have known that. I've known the boy' Haybrun thought, then looked back to the two colts. "Alright then. Private William, your company get's first pick at the barracks." He said. William, still panting but slowly, looked around and found a strong and sturdy barn near the large barn labeled 'Mess Hall'.
"We'll take that one, sir." He pointed to the barn.
"Very well then. Fourth Company will take Barrack Two. Private Dash, since your represent Second Company, you will get Barrack One, near the firing range." Haybrun turned to Dash.
"Yes sir." He saluted. Barrack One was just a few yards away from the firing range, but was halfway from the Mess Hall. The two colts went their way, as their comrades followed behind, allowing more to flood in. -- Barrack Two was a grand barn, reminding Big Mac of the barn back home on Sweet Apple Acres. Two rows of bunks lined the walls, with a large table in the center and a fireplace at the opposite end.
"Shoot. This is one hay of a barn." Braeburn whistled as they walked in. There were about thirty or so ponies within Fourth Company, and nearly every pony wanted the top bunks. Newsprint and Pip already got the two near the window, along with some other colts. Mr. Cakes decided to take a bottom bunk underneath Pip and Breaburn took another a few bunks down. Big Mac took the only large bunk on the right wall near the table.
"Care to take the top?" He asked William.
"Sure." He walked over and tossed the bag up onto the bunk above. Ladders slanted by the foot of the beds, allowing easy access. William opened his bag and stared. Inside was a picture frame of his family and a letter, signed by Haybrun with a note written on it.
'Open when the time it right.' It read. Before he could say anything, Dash stopped by.
"You guys coming to the Mess Hall. It's really something." Dash said, then as he suddenly appeared, left.
"I could use a bit to eat." Pip said, sitting on the bunk.
"Same here. I'm as hungry as a horse." Newsprint slid down the ladder. The group left their gear, heading for the door when Mac notice William still at his bunk.
"You coming?" Ha asked. William broke his concentration.
"Huh? Oh yeah, right. Sorry." He said and quickly joined Mac, leaving the letter out on the bunk. -- The Mess Hall was almost like the Barracks, but was twice the size and with a full fledge kitchen on the north face. The large roof allowed voices to carry out and about as the four companies were scattered about, talking about the trip up and the little nature walk of theirs.
"May I have you attention please!" a staff sergeant shouted. The recruits continued to talk.
"Attention!" He shouted again, this time got their attention. At a large table near the west wall was the officers from the train, Haybrun and the captain. Haybrun stood up.
"Gentle colts and Stallions. I want to welcome you to your first night here at Fort Orchard, one of the several dozens of forts throughout Equestria. As you know by now, we are at war with a separatist force within our country."
"Who are they anyway?" a recruit from First asked.
"Our enemy is a devious foe, who strike day and night, threatening our homes, our culture and our country. They are rebel forces calling themselves the New Lunar Republic." Haybrun answered. The entire hall fell quiet. The New Lunar Republic were as the Colonel put it ' a devious foe ', disrupting the peace in the country and wanting to overthrow Celestia and give her the same fate as Luna, formerly Nightmare Moon. At first, they seemed like misbehaving school ponies, but everything changed during the Longest Day Revolution in Manehatten, when they took arms and attacked the major industries and Royal Barracks. Haybrun knew this very well since he was there. He dispersed the Revolution through force, and he knew that only more would die if this continued. The only reason he didn't mention it because he didn't to worry these new recruits, to give them second thought.
"We all heard the stories about Manehatten, About the innocence who were forced into this conflict such as yourselves. But we can end this. As Coltgrenadiers, you will fight side by side with the Royal Guard Army to crush the Republic and restore peace to our country. Tomorrow, we start your training, but tonight..." He whistled. From the kitchen rolled out carts and carts of sweets, ciders, and assorted food. The recruits hollered with joy to see mountains of food and drinks being placed onto their table.
"...Tonight, We enjoy the night away! Curtsey of our newest cook, Mr. Cake." He finished and sat back down. All of a sudden, every pony within the hall chowed down everything in sight. Some belly-slid down the table, trying to stuff their mouths with food as others grabbed the tankards of cider and chugged down every last drop. Pip and Newsprint got lost in the fray, hoping from table to table. As for Mr. Cake, he kept the carts rolling in and out with the treats. William was chowing down on a large pie when he noticed Big Mac wasn't here. 'He must have walked out.' He thought and continued into the pie.
Outside the Mess hall, Big Mac sat down and looked up into the night sky. He wasn't the only one.
"Your missing out in there, you know." A voice said. He turned to see the Captain walking out, a tankard in his left hoof.
"I'm not hungry." he replied.
"Not much for sweets huh? Same here." The Captain sat down by him. He set the tankard nearby and looked up as well.
"So, your from Ponyville."
"Eeyup. Yourself?"
"Nah, I'm from the Cimarrons, along with that unicorn officer of a step-brother."
"Cimarrons. The mountains just beyond the Whitetail forest?" Mac asked.
"Yup. I use to run a railroad company there, before we got drafted." the Captain replied. Mac simply nodded.
"Name's Lawrence by the way."
"Big Macintosh." The two colts shook hooves then looked back up into the night as the party continued inside and throughout the night.
"UP, EVERYPONY UP!!" A voice suddenly shouted into Barrack Two, startling the entire building; a few fell out from the top bunks. At the door was a drill instructor, using his magic to bash two can lids together. William jumped up and fell onto Big Mac in the bunk below, waking him up.
"Let's go. Recruits to the parade grounds in ten minutes! Double time it boys!" The instructor shouted and then walked out, heading for the next barracks. The recruits groaned and moaned as they staggered out, trying to recover from the late night 'cerebration' so to speak. Big Mac, on the other hand, was wide awake and was already marching outside towards the parade grounds.
"How is he use to all this?" Newsprint asked, yawning.
"Some of us are farm folk, and we're use to getting up this early." Braeburn replied. William nodded his head in agreement. Mr. Cake was the last one to leave, a sore in his back from KP duty after the party. -- The sun was slowly rising over the desert horizon as all four companies stood at attention at the parade grounds near the fort gates. Most, let alone all of them, were still trying to wake up. Others fell over, going back to sleep; including Newsprint and Pipsqueak. Lawrence and Haybrun looked over the group.
"How do we expect to train them all in three months? They can't even stay awake for one minute." Lawrence said, seeing another pony fell over asleep.
"We need a miracle, or at least a fully awake company." Haybrun scanned over the crowd to see Fourth company surprisingly fully awake, well most of them anyway. "I think we just found it. Captain Lawrence, you and Lieutenant Sketch will take charge of Fourth Company from now on, which includes their training. Understood?" He turned back to him.
"Understood sir." Lawrence saluted and approached the large group. "ATTENTION!" He barked through a megaphone. Every pony snapped to attention, including those on the ground. "Welcome to your first day of training. For the next ninety days, you will be turned into a fighting force rival to that of the Royal Guards. You will follow your instructor's orders to the point. Any pony that can't keep up will be sent home packing, or reassigned to home front duties. I do have doubts that some of you will fall behind, but my superiors have other things to worry about. Each Company will be assigned a commanding officer and secondary commanding officer." He looked down to a clipboard. "First Company and Fourth Company will report to the Firing Range at 0900 hours for basic firearms training. Second Company will report to the obstacle course, along with Third Company."
"Gentle colts, Today you are no longer the common pony. Today, you are recruits of the Coltgrenadiers. Dismissed." Haybrun added and went away. The companies soon dispersed, following their assigned CO's. Lawrence and Sketch made their way to Fourth Company, where Big Mac waited to greet them.
"Good morning Mac."
"Morning sir." Mac replied, his right hoof saluting.
"Save that stuff for parade and higher ups. Right then, this way to the firing range." Lawrence said, leading the way. The group of forty or so ponies followed close behind.
"Any reason why he's like that?" Newsprint asked.
"It's a long story kid, I'll tell ya sometime." Sketch replied. -- Just a few yards away from the armory was a wide open field littered with hay bales with cardboard cut outs of the enemy: crudely painted with NLR painted on the chests. Just parallel were tables with five rifles each, with ten rounds next to each rifle. Lawrence picked one up from the table.
"This is the standard service rifle for the Coltgrenadiers: the Colt 98k Needle Rifle." He started. "It fires a box magazine of ten 9mm rounds, has an effective range of 100 yards and is bolt action, which means you have to reload each round every time. A veteran Coltgrenadier can fire up to fifty rounds a minute, as such." He loaded the rifle, took aim at the nearest target and pulled the trigger. The sudden pop from the gun and a small trace of smoke flowed out of the barrel. Every pony looked on with amazement as he quickly pulled the bolt back, shoved it back and fired again until a click was heard. He then laid the gun back on the table. "Any Volunteers?" He asked. Pip raised his hoof.
"I'll give it a shot."
"The recoil might send you flat on your flank. You sure you want to do that?" Before he got a response, Pip was already by the table, trying to load the rifle. He opened the bolt and gently slammed the magazine in, then closed the bolt.
"Now aim for the target on your left, ten yards out." Sketch said, levitating the binoculars in front of him. Pip aimed down the sights and pulled the trigger. Lawrence was right to warn him. The gun recoiled and sent him flying backwards on his flank. The round had, however hit the target near the left hoof.
"Not bad, but that counts as a wound. He'd be out of action for now." Sketch replied. Lawrence helped Pip back up.
"That was fun! Scary but fun!" Pip replied. Soon, more ponies approached the tables and took hold of the rifles. An hour in, and some progress was made. At least eighty percent of the company had made improvements from wound shots to confirmed kills. It wasn't until Big Mac went for the gun Pip had used. He took aim and fired, then reloaded in quick pace, nearly matching that of Lawrence. Better still, he was getting headshot after headshot on the targets. Lawrence took notice of this.
"Hold fire!" He shouted. Big Mac stopped.
"Something wrong?" He asked.
"No, just making a slight adjustment to our last target. Move it out to 150 yards." He shouted to two service ponies nearby. They galloped out, moved the target back and quickly galloped back. "If you can make a headshot at 150 yards, your company avoids KP duty for a month. I'll vouch for it myself."
"I'll take that." Mac looked down the sights. The 'head' of the target was barely visible from there, plus it was out of effective range of the rifle. As he continued adjusting the sights, ponies within the company started making side bets. William just watched. Taking a deep breath, Mac closed one eye and pulled the trigger.
"It's a hit! Right between the eyes!" Sketch said, looking through the binoculars. The bullet, at 150 yards, had hit its target straight and true. Mac laid the gun down and turned around. Every pony there was a gasp.
"I'm impressed. You must have good eyes." Lawrence said.
"He should be. He lives on Sweet Apple Acres, and can see trouble from a mile away." Braeburn replied. Lawrence soon grabbed a scope nearby.
"Sketch. Get this scope attached. You two, more the target out to 300 yards." He said. "This scope increases the rifles range to at least 250 yards. See if you can make a headshot, then we'll move on to heavier weapons."
"Is our bet still on then?" Mac asked, looking through the scope once the target was moved.
"Even our best shot couldn't get a headshot from 300 yards, even with the scope."
"Then he wasn't a good shot." he joked. He then turned his attention back to the target and made further adjustments. Breathing, he closed his eye and pulled the trigger.
The gun popped. A second later, a small dust cloud appeared. Sketch looked and he jaw dropped, he then levitated the binoculars in front of Lawrence.
"Looks like you guys won't get KP duty this month." He said as Mac placed the gun back on the table. -- [Two months, three weeks, and 6 days later...]
"Mail call!" Newsprint shouted, dragging a bag of mail behind him. Every pony gathered around the table as he stuck his head in, reaching for the first package.
"You got something Mr. Cake. It's from Ponyville." He said, pulling a small box out.
"It's from the Mrs. and Pinkie Pie." He read the return address. He tore open the box. It was a cupcake with a candle on it. The tag tied to the candle read 'Pound cake’s and Pumkincake's first birthday. Missing you so, hope the army life is a blast.' There was also a picture of the four of them, around the same cupcake.
"They sent me their cupcake." He said, a tear forming at the base of his eye. Newsprint reached for another package, this time for Pipsqueak. It was some extra blankets and a letter from his parents. More and more letters and packages were given, finally came a large package.
"It's for Big Macintosh... I could use some help getting it out though." Newsprint struggled. Two more colts jumped onto the table and pulled. Suddenly, the string keeping it together snapped and sent the three flying.
"What it that?" William asked, looking at what looked like an old tan jacket with mixed matched patches on the sleeves, along with a saddlebag filled with assorted goods.
"It's just a care package. We send this kind of stuff every time." Big Mac said, looking through the bag. The jacket was new however, for he never seen it before. There was a note, signed by his Uncle Apple Strudel. 'Dear Big Macintosh, I heard from Granny Smith that you're in the army now, so I thought I'd send you my old uniform jacket. I could tell the stories behind this jacket, but you might be busy with all that training, so I'll make this here letter short. Make it back in one piece, unlike this here jacket of mine. Your uncle Strudel.'
"I didn't know Uncle Strudel was in the army." Braeburn looked over Mac's shoulder.
"That's because he didn't want to bore you with the war stories." Haybrun said, standing in the doorway. Every pony stood at attention.
"Pardon my interruption, but your company has a Pre-exam run to do. Tomorrow's test will decide wither or not your ready for the battlefields."
"Yes Sir!" the entire barracks echoed, then they trotted out in rows of two.
"Big Mac. A word, if you please." Haybrun stopped him at the door. Big Mac turned to him, then to William who was next to him. He simply nodded and William walked out.
By mid afternoon, the entire company was panting back into the barracks. The Pre-exam run was a 'difficult bugger' according to Lawrence, and if that was hard, they couldn't imagine what the actual test would be like. Big Mac was sitting at the table.
"Hey Cos, anything wrong?" Braeburn asked.
"Your not going to believe this, but I've been promoted." He simply replied.
"Promoted? But we haven't even seen any fighting yet." Newsprint added.
"Congrats though.." William paused to figure out what rank he had been promoted to. He noticed the three stripes on his left leg sleeve. "..Sergeant." He finished, saluting. The others soon followed suit. Although Big Mac was use to every pony knowing him, even commending him for all his hard work back home, but here he somehow felt uneasy about this. That was the price he paid for accepting the promotion, and he simply returned the salute. -- The day the Final exam had arrived, and every company was at attention on the parade grounds, wearing their new uniform jackets. The light brown cotton jackets kept them surprisingly cooled despite the hot late summer afternoon, their blue kepi style caps were neatly pressed and positioned between their ears and the brown combat harness' wrapped around their chest and mid-waist, ammunition pouches empty and rifles slung over their backs, the saddle bags preventing them from slipping. Some chose to don the new grey steel helmets instead of the caps, including William. Braeburn kept his hat and Mr. Cakes a grey version of his baker's cap. Big Mac was the only one not wearing any headwear. Up on the bandstand stood Haybrun in his blue formal jacket, approaching the megaphone.
"Gentle colts of the First Coltgrenadier Battalion, Today was your last day here in Fort Orchard, and all of you have passed training with exceptional scores across the board. Since I'm no longer in fighting conditions to lead you before the enemy, I want to wish you all the best of luck, and that one day we will all tell our grand children how we, the common pony, helped preserve the glory of Equestria. As you march to meet the foe, know this and this alone: No matter what they say, no matter what we say, know that you serve your homes, your families, and your fellow comrades in arms." Haybrun addressed the battalion.
"Three cheers for Equestria!" A random colt shouted. "Hip Hip.."
"Hurray!" the crowd cheered.
"Hip Hip.."
"Hurray!
"Hip Hip..."
"HURRAY!!" The last cheer echoed throughout the fort, then fell silent once again.
"Before you leave for the tracks, I want to announce the promotions of Sergeant Big Macintosh, Captain Sketch Roberts, and finally Corporal William Hooves, and the field citation for Captain Lawrence Roberts." Haybrun finished. The four ponies approached the bandstand and stood at attention as he passed out the promotions. He stopped in front of William.
"Take good care of yourself lad and I'm sure your parents would be proud." He whispered. William wanted to thank him, but he was trying to hold back the tears. Haybrun then continued on to Lawrence at the end.
"Your in charge of all these soldiers now, I'm sure you'll be a fine officer one day, along with Macintosh there."
"You sure you won't be too lonely here old stallion?" Lawrence joked.
"Only until the next batch arrives next week." He chuckled under his breath. The four ponies saluted. Haybrun saluted back.
"Captain, Take the out." Haybrun barked. Lawrence turned to face his troops.
"Battalion! Right face!" He shouted. In one fell swoop, the battalion turned to the right. "Forward March!" He trotted before them, followed by Pip and Newsprint; the pinto drum and fife corp. Followed close behind was the color guard. The Battalion started chanting a tune only familiar to the veterans, and now being sung by this brand new era of Coltgrenadiers.
'The Royal Guards may have all the mares,'
'But we Grenadiers get all the flares!'
'To all our enemies beware,
'Cause the Grenadiers will see you there'
'And if you think that all is well,'
'We'll all make sure you go to hell!' The last grenadier passed through the gates as the old war horse sat there, lighting his pipe and muttered under his breath.
"If only that was true." and blew a puff of smoke through his nose.
It's been nearly two years since I left Ponyville for this war and now we're coming home in a few days, but not how you picture it. The fighting been fierce for the past few months up near Manehatten, and unfortunately we've been forced to retreat. The New Lunar Republicans sure know how to fight, especially at night. Luckily, most of us are safe here in Neighburg...' Big Mac stopped writing and looked up. Most of the battalion was asleep except for William, who was sitting on the ridge facing south. He then went back to writing.
' Though I can't say much about Will here. You see, we've come across something awful..."
[Earlier that day...]
Smoke lined the sky as Fourth Company advanced cautiously through the town square. With rifles at the ready, which was difficult to maneuver with as it was, they slowly made it to the south end. A sudden movement further down the street and a Lunar soldier jumped out and fired. The bullet barely missed Big Mac's face, but skinned under his right eye. He returned fire and the soldier collapsed into the street.
"Nice shot." Pip replied. He had now grow into his new field jacket and was able to fire his Colt 98k without falling over. Newsprint also grew up and was now a corporal.
"We should at least bury him." Mr. Cake replied. This was coming from a guy who baked for a living and never shot a gun in his life until Manehatten. He was defending a fellow baker's home. The others simply nodded and approached the dead pony. He was a young stallion at best, his darken uniform jacket torn and tattered, his mane a mess under the large country hat of his. His firearm was outdated by nearly twenty years, yet it was still as effective as the Colts.
"I know him, he was one of the orchard folks back in Appleloosa, thought I can't remember the name." Braeburn noticed the dead pony's face.
"Then we'll take him to a nearby orchard." Mac said. He looked around. They were missing someone. "Where's Will?"
William traveled down a dirt road, a familiar road until he stopped just before the rail fence and a mailbox. The name 'Hooves' was barely visible from age and weather, but it was still there as if a memory. He looked past the box and saw a brown two story farmhouse and matching barn, along with a barren field where wheat and hay once grew.
"Will!" Where are ya?" a voice shouted, just up the road. Braeburn soon caught up, along with Mac as the others were trying to keep up with their fast pace. William didn't notice them and walked down towards the house. The porch was scattered with empty crates and cider barrels, with broken glass at the bases.
"Will, you ok?" Braeburn asked. He soon entered the house. The interior was wrecked, as if a tornado roared through the entire house, broken railings, broken furniture and garbage everywhere. He then looked up the stairs and went up.
"Willie? You even there?"
"Braeburn, go and gather up some firewood." Mac laid a hoof on his cousin.
"Why?" He asked. Mac simply glared at him. Braeburn simply nodded and went back outside.
"What's wrong with Will?" Newsprint asked.
"Let's get some firewood and set up camp on the other side of the ridge there." Braeburn point to a northern ridge on the other side of the road. Without question, the group soon went off the property towards the ridge.
Big Mac went upstairs to the far end of the hall, where he saw a shadow. With a Lugermorph pistol at the ready, he quickly turned to corner and aimed down the sights. It was William, in front of a large bed made for two. He was just sitting there, but he could tell tears were forming at the base. As he approached the bed, he couldn't believe his eyes. Resting on the bed were two skeletal remains of two ponies, flies buzzing above a third, a young filly by the look of her. A sign lingered around her neck saying 'A Royal pain in the flank'. Royal was short for ponies who followed Princess Celestia or the 'Tyrant' by the Lunars.
"Friend of yours?" Mac asked.
"Sister." William finally broke his mediation, small tear drops hitting the floor.
"So this is your home?"
"Was. I left two years ago when a Lunar raid attacked town, stealing anything they could cart off with. The Royal Garrison didn't warn every pony on the outskirts, and they came here." William explained everything to Mac...
'He told me everything about that night, which leads me to worry about all of you on Sweet Apple Acres, and all of Ponyville. He then asked me to do one thing for him...'
"What's that?" William dropped the pistol's barrel towards his head. "Are you crazy?! This isn't going to solve your problems."
"I have nothing left now. My parents are dead, my home is gone, and now my sister." Tears flowed down his cheeks. His eyes were watery and red, his breaths short and rapid. "Just do it!" He shouted.
"I can't! I won't !!"
"Would you do the same if you lost Applejack or even Applebloom? What about Sweet Apple Acres?!" William shouted in anger and misery. Mac paused. "You still have your friends, your family. You still have a life. Mine is gone, everything I've loved is gone. Don't think of this as guilt, but as a favor. Please...please." William choked and closed his eyes, the tears blinding him. Mac was sweating, the barrel shaking and finally he closed his eyes and turned away.
The lantern in Big Mac's tent flicker as a small tear drop landed on the letter. Unable to continue writing, he simply blew out the light and went to sleep. On the ridge was a single fence post from the farm railing with a helmet placed upon, the rifle leaning by. A small wooden piece laid down below it, with words carved: 'Here lies Cpl. William Hooves, A fine soldier and a good friend 1876' -- The train pulled into Ponyville station, dark clouds being moved into position by the local pegasi. Marching orders had ordered any close fighting forces to Ponyville to prevent a potential invasion by a large Lunar Republican force nearly three times the size of the Battalion. The grenadiers disembarked the train, greeted by a few ponies, including Mrs. Cake and Applejack. The moment was silent as they embraced their loved ones.
"Lawrence, is it always this difficult?" Mac asked.
"What do you mean?" he asked. Mac simply stared at him, then knew what he was talking about. "It's always difficult Macintosh, no matter how bright they may be. I honestly can tell you how many sleepiness nights I've had since the start of this war, back in '64. There've been times that I even considered the thought of ending it all myself, but there's always something keeping me from doing it."
"What's that?" Mac asked. Lawrence looked to Sketch, helping the wounded onto the train.
"I've lost a brother already, and Sketch is all I have left, along with memories of times before the war." Lawrence replied. Mac soon noticed his sister near the far end, helping Sketch.
"Is is possible to get them out of here?"
"My sister's a stubborn pony. I don't think she'll leave without a fight." Mac chuckled.
"Then Take Fourth Company of to Sweet Apple Acres and build up defenses there. We'll use it as a command post, if we be permitted."
"Not at all. As long as we can keep them safe."
After a few hours, the Company was dug in at Sweet Apple. Palisades erected on the road would prevent the enemy from advancing onto town. Barricades made out of crates, barrels and sandbags lined around the main buildings and offering protection for the troops. Big Mac emerged from the main house.
"Well. They've agreed to stay safe in the apple cellar, but if things get out of hoof, they'll make a dash for Everfree Forest, despite Granny's condition." Mac replied.
"Sir! We got movement coming from the south!" Newsprint shouted, looking through a pair of binoculars settled on a nearby barrel.
"That's at least a full battalion of Lunars heading for town. Probably a scouting party." Sketch looked through his.
"We got at least seven companies; our three and four from 2nd Battalion. I wish we could get a detachment of Royal Guards to help hold, but I doubt they will arrive in time." Lawrence said. Then something hit his mind. "Wait, a scouting party isn't that large... Pick your targets!" He shouted. The company rushed to the barricades, their rifles aimed and ready for the order. The lunars suddenly changed direction and rushed towards them, their old-dated rifles bouncing at each trot.
"Fire!" The barricade bursted into a wall of powder as the line fired. Almost immediately, ten or so collapsed onto the ground, forcing the rest of the lunars to return fire. Bullets ricocheted off the barricades, the company taking cover behind them. The next group got up and fired; another ten fell. As the fighting continued, Sketch took a sudden look through his binoculars.
"Lawrence! We got another Battalion coming from the south!" True enough, another Lunar Battalion was making their way through the field, where their fellow comrades were now taking cover behind railed fences along the road and hugging the ground.
"Pick them off!" Lawrence shouted, taking a shot at the enemy, then taking cover. "I need a runner to warn the defenses. Tell them that we've encountered the forward guard at Sweet Apple Acres and we are currently engaged."
"I'll go sir!" Pip volunteered.
"Another Battalion coming!" Sketch shouted.
"Get going then, Newsprint, go with him as well." Newsprint saluted and the two pintos rushed off. The First Battle for Ponyville had begun. --
"General Lancer, I have a report from our troops in Ponyville." A royal guard approached his commanding officer. The Imperial Ministry building in Canterlot was the heart of all military activity throughout Equestria. Maps laid everywhere they could be placed, dozens of staff maneuvering little wooden models of infantry, Calvary and artillery, along with pegasi supports; another new branch to the military. General Lancer was overlooking a large map of Ponyville with the surrounding areas which included Sweet Apple Acres. His scar on his face was his memento from the Griffon Wars years before as he turned to the approaching guard. Without saying anything, he took the report using his magic and after a few seconds, discarded the note.
"The enemy has brought up another five battalions and have entrenched themselves to the west and north of town, and we've only managed to hold them off for only a day." He said with a tone of anger.
"We've only have two battalions there, plus the local militia of at least twenty-five or so. The only Royal regiment close enough is about three days out." One officer replied.
"But we have ten regiments here, and they can be in Ponyville within two hours." Another officer argued.
"We can't risk weakening the defenses here in Canterlot, if they now have at least a regiment at Ponyville. It's obviously a trap to lure our troops away, then they can march into the city and threaten her majesty." A third stated. As the officers continued to bicker and fight, Lancer simply watched.
'In my day, we would have reinforced our fellow soldiers. But these Coltgrenadiers aren't soldiers. They are mere pawns in the Royal Army, unlike the Guard Corps.' He thought. "Gentle colts." He finally spoke. The officers turned to their commander in chief. "We will see if they withstand this attack, and if they can't , we'll send reinforcements."
"How many?"
"One battalion, no more."
"Might I intervene sir?" One of the officers said. "Surely we could send at least a regiment, to reinforce the eastern flank to prevent a pocket."
"I know you care for your grenadiers, Haybrun, but you are as old as me, thus we can't go to their aid. Besides, the protection of Canterlot takes priority over a small town such as Ponyville."
"Yet you saw great importance in Manehatten, and Baltimare. Now they fly the Lunar banner and what did you do? You only withdrew to this fortress city which the enemy will crack with ease." Haybrun continued.
"You best be careful old stallion, that almost sounds like treason." The guard replied.
"I've fought long and hard alongside you during the Griffon Wars, and saved your flank when you were a private in the Crusades against the Dogs. I've fought for our country, what have you fought for since then?" He said to the officers around him. No one said a word. He turned back to Lancer. "You maybe my commanding officer now, but experience surpasses nobility and rank. With or without your approval, I will lead a regiment to the aid of my fellow ponies. Good day sir." Haybrun saluted and started off. Lancer simply stood as he watched the only pony he would call a friend leave the room, then turned back to the map. On the city name were two blue wooden infantry tabs; each representing a battalion, surrounded by seven similar red tabs.
'If he is right, then I'm afraid we've made the biggest mistake in our entire careers.' He thought to himself.
The weather remained grey and cloudy as the siege continued. Yesterday, the Lunars had allowed any civilians or wounded to leave through the eastern gap. At least they had some honor, but they were still determined to take the town. Supplies were cut off from both the ground and the air as they shot down whoever was unfortunate enough to fly over the battlefield. Conditions for the defenders remained strong, but their moral were constantly tested by the onslaught of bullets and words.
"Brave soldiers of the Coltgrenadier Battalions. Your leaders have forgotten you, left you to fend for yourselves. There will be no relief for you. They do not even consider you soldiers. Surrender and you will be given warm clothing, food, shelter and the proper respect you deserve." The pony behind the megaphone called out from atop his trench, just twenty yards away from the outskirts of town. He was speaking loud enough that fourth company at Sweet Apple Acres could hear.
"Ah, SHUT UP!" A grenadier shouted, then fired a shot at the enemy. Five bullets forced him to take cover once again. The defenses around the farm had improved to some trench works and a bunker for ammunition. The house was converted to a medical station and kitchen, and the barn the company command post. The cool early fall weather had came early this year, and the troops were wearing brown jackets over their uniforms, then attached their harnesses over them. Lawrence, Sketch and Big Macintosh were on the roof of the barn, surveying the enemy lines.
"There must be at least two battalions here, and who knows how many more at town." Sketch scanned.
"It's weird enough that they didn't bring cannons, yet their bunkers are built to contain one. This doesn't make sense." Lawrence noted the square bunkers. As most military ponies know, the only way to win a siege was to blast the defenders away with artillery, yet not a single cannon was reported, let alone heard. The hatch behind them opened and Pipsqueak poked his head.
"The companies in town are still holding on. They did have some skirmishes a few hours ago, but it wasn't much." He reported.
"Anything about reinforcements?"
"Not since we sent the report a few days ago."
"How's my family doing?" Big Mac asked.
"Applebloom's bored. Granny Smith's asleep and Applejack is begging to get in the fight." Pip replied.
"I'd bet." He chuckled under his breath. Lawrence continued to focus on the bunkers, only to confirm his suspicions: They didn't bring any cannons at all! He wanted to chuckle about their folly, but he didn't. Something kept him from doing so, as if they wanted to make them believe they were bringing cannons. A sudden boom echoed throughout the valley, drawing their attentions towards...
"Canterlot. They're attacking Canterlot!" A soldier shouted. Flashes of light dimmed under the clouds as smoke rose from the Cliffside palace. Ponyville wasn't their target; Canterlot was. It always had been.
"Damn High Command!" Lawrence shouted in frustration, only to duck down as bullets started to fly once again. --
"Damn High Command." Haybrun muttered under his breath. The explosions were louder where he and another grenadier regiment stood upon a ridge.
"I count at least two brigades, plus an heavy artillery company." A second in command reported through his scope. The Royal Battery along the wall hammered away at the enemy cannons and troops, but they were getting blasted with such brute force a general would only dream of. They couldn't help them, for it was suicide to even attempt. All they could do now was watch as their fellow soldiers were dying.
"Lancer, you fool. You should have strengthen the defenses, let alone request more ponies." Haybrun thought. [Flashback, three days earlier...]
"We now have confirmed reports that they don't have any siege weapons approaching Ponyville." A sergeant replied.
"Then you shouldn't worry about supporting them Haybrun, my friend." Lancer smugged.
"Shouldn't you at least be worried about their cannons roaming somewhere. They could be on their very way here to smash the city wall. At least reinforce the batteries here." Haybrun laid a hoof on the northern wall; the weakest defense along the Canterlot line.
"They wouldn't be able to reach it without using very strong pegasi. A cannon is about ten times the weight of a pony, and I doubt they have that many supporters in Cloudsdale." a cocky pegasi officer boasted.
"If your so keen on that, then send some additional companies."
"General Cotton Eye's Brigade is on its way back from a victory farther east. He can be here within the week, which gives us plenty of time-"
"To do what? Discuss politics and let the enemy hoist cannons to our northern lines?" Haybrun interrupted. He did have faith about Cotton Eye, but he doubt they would arrive in time.
"General Haybrun, for the last time. It is impossible to lift cannons over the northern plateaus. We have constant air patrols that report back every hour on the hour, so stop worrying about that and focus on real issues!" Lancer slammed his hoof on the table, shaking the foundation of the table base. Haybrun was speechless, only to snort with frustration and leave the room.
"I swear, that old stallion has got to stop living in the past." [Now...]
"...stop living in the past." Lancer's voice echoed through Haybrun's head like the wind.
"Sir, should we go back and help?" the second asked. Haybrun continued to stare.
"No. We continue on." Haybrun turned towards Ponyville and ordered the advance. The regiment formed up and followed their commander, leaving the chaos behind them. 'I may still have me head in the past, but at least I know what I'm doing.' --
"How many do you think we've killed?" Thunder Dash asked another grenadier next to him. Second Company was on the North Ponyville line where the megaphone pony was earlier that day, shooting at an advancing battalion.
"I've lost count of them. I'm more focused on my ammo, I only got a few magazines left." He replied, pulling out another magazine. The seven days of constant skirmishes had taking a toll on the ammunition supplies, and with nothing coming in, the situation was turning worse by the hour.
"Sweet Celestia, they just keep coming!" A younger recruit said, whimpering as he aimed. Battalion after battalion kept coming at them.
"I bet Fourth Company isn't have this kind of problem." Thunder Dash groaned, about to take aim at another lunar soldier. Suddenly, everything went silent. His eyes twitching as he was finding himself falling backwards until he hit the ground. Around him, grenadiers and lunars went at each other in fierce close quarter combat. Finally, he could barely hear something.
"The line's collapsing! Fall back to the square!" a voice muffled. He turned his head again to see the young recruit next to him, his eyes blank of expression, jaw opened ajar and blood flowing gently from his mouth. He knew that he was killed, but then he noticed another pool of blood. His eyes followed until he gasped; a dark red spot was on his jacket, and was slowly creeping across him. He was hit. He wanted to scream in pain, but his throat choked from the shock. Seconds later, his head landed back on the ground, looking towards the sky as his eyelid closed for the last time.
"Lawrence, The Northern line collapsed. They're making their way to the square!" Newsprint panted as he bursted through the roof hatch.
"We have to go help them."
"But what about my family?" Big Mac asked, looking to the cellar.
"I'm sorry Mac, But if we stay here, the line will fold and they'll pick us off. We have to pull back to the town." Lawrence shouted, taking a blind shot over the railing.
"Sir, I reckon we let my sister in this fight. We could use all the hooves we can get." Lawrence hesitated, but nodded his head.
"Take one of the rifles, and while your down there, take a platoon and lead a flanking action. We're taking that bunker." Lawrence looked over the railing. He noticed Sketch was hunkered behind the railing, rifle in action when suddenly he stopped. He then turned towards him.
"Law.... I think they got me..." Sketch said and collapsed onto the deck.
"SKETCH!" Lawrence shouted, dropping his rifle and rushing over to him, Newsprint covering him. He looked him over to see a small red spot form at his front right leg.
"Am I dying?" Sketch asked.
"What?"
"Am I dying?" Sketch asked again, tears starting to form at the base of his eyes.
"They only got your leg, But I don't think your gonna keep it after this is all over." Lawrence replied. He quickly turned to Big Mac, who was almost down the ladder. "Big Mac!" Mac's head popped up. "Take Sketch over to the house, he's hit."
"Yes sir." He replied and helped him through the hatch.
"Crap this hurts!" Sketch shouted in pain.
'At least your alive.' Lawrence thought and continued the fight.
By four in the afternoon, everything started to quiet down. The Town still held out, with support of the local militia and some platoons from the bridge. Small fires broke out as the thunderous distant booms at Canterlot continued on, the flashes looked like lighting. At Sweet Apple Acres, Fourth Company were finally able to rest but with a heavy price. Within seven days going on eight, nearly twenty grenadiers were killed and five wounded, including Sketch. The lights inside the house were dimmed as a grenadier trotted in.
"Here's the action reports from the town you wanted sir." He saluted, his magic levitating the paper.
"Set it down on the table, and return to your company." Lawrence replied. The grenadier saluted and walked out. Lawrence looked over the report.
"Second Company was hit hard to the north, losing thirty-five ponies in the process. They did manage to trap the enemy near the school house, with some help from the militia. First Company to the west managed to assist a local at her home while she was evacuating the animals there, and are still hold out. Finally, Third Company at the Bridge held off three battalions of regular volunteers, but with the cost of fifteen ponies; including their officer." Lawrence read.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, the same problem everywhere: Shortage of Ammunition." Lawrence replied. "Estimates from all three companies, plus ours here show that we won't last long if they keep this up."
"So will their numbers. We must have killed off at least a full regiment alone." Sketch said, lifting his front left. Lawrence chuckled.
"You're lucky that bullet missed your horn, otherwise you'd never recover this quickly."
"Thanks. Now If only I could use it to reattach my leg." He looked at his right half of a leg.
"Just be glad Mr. Cake knew some medical work and was able to cut it off before it got infected." Big Mac entered the room.
"How was your little trip? We're you able to take it?" Lawrence asked. Mac shook his head. "Oh, how many?"
"Five." He said. Pip suddenly rushed inside.
"Sirs, you best come see this."
"Take one step closer and we'll blow your head off!" A grenadier shouted out. Out in the field was a Lunar, a white flag in his mouth. Lawrence and Mac rushed over.
"What's going on?"
"This here lunar wants to negotiate." He turned to him, then back out to the field. "Ok, my boss is here. Tell him what ya want, louder this time."
"My commanding officer wishes to discuss a cease-fire with your commanding officer." The lunar shouted.
"This better not be a trick, lunar. Last time an officer fell for that, Fillidelphia's defenders all got killed within the night." Lawrence shouted.
"This is no trick sir. Our officer has more honor than that, otherwise the civilians and wounded from before would have remained." The Lunar shouted back.
"Alright, We'll talk, but on one condition." Big Mac shouted.
"Anything."
"We want insurance that no civilians remaining in our line get killed from your night raids!" Mac shouted, remembering everything William had told him.
"Very well. I'll inform my commander. Have a nice night comrades." He shouted and returned towards his line.
"We're not comrades!" the grenadier shouted back. Concerned, Lawrence turned to Mac.
"Sergeant, have some guards posted along the line, incase they try something funny."
"I'll be among them, along with AJ." Mac replied. He too was concerned about the safety of his family, both militant and civilian alike. --
"Sir, We're just a few miles out from Ponyville." The second reported. The full moon illuminated the open field road leading to Ponyville as the relief regiment marched on.
"Very well. Keep alert men. Those lunars are out there, waiting for a chance to strike." Haybrun reassured the troops. Marching at night was a grave mistake for any loyalist to venture, even the Royal Guards knew this very well. Haybrun, on the other hand, was use to the night, along with many of the coltgrenadiers. Heck, Haybrun embraced the night, despite his political standings. It gave the beauty of the land, along with certain potentials when engaged in warfare. He remembered the last time he used a night march in battle; the third conquest against the Dogs out in the deserts to the very south of Equestria. He lead an entire division around the enemy line to their camp and launched a rear attack, taking them completely by surprise and forcing them to surrender.
"Might I suggest making camp for the night sir?"
"What, and ruin such a beautiful starry sky? You Canterlot officers are all the same. They would expect that." Haybrun protested.
"But the men are tired sir." He pointed to the troops slowing their paces. Even though he wanted to reach Ponyville before dawn, he did care for his men.
"Very well. Have them men rest here, but no fires." Haybrun shouted. The column collapsed onto the road, exhausted and tired. "We'll start again at dawn." Little did he know, they were being watched as a shadow from the tree line slowly disappeared into the dark interior.
The sun slowly rose over the mountains and punched through the clouds as the remains of coltgrenadier battalions formed ranks within the town square. Battered, rag tagged and some showing the face of defeat, they watched as a company of Lunars marched towards them, unarmed. The Lunar from before was accompanying his commanding officer, and as promised, there was not a single attack during the night.
"At least they kept their side of the deal." Sketch said quietly.
"Now we have to keep our side, whatever it is." Lawrence replied and walked out towards them, followed by Sketch and Big Mac. The officer and lunar messenger also walked forward; both sides approaching the town hall. The roof was burned away and debris laid about. The two groups stopped before they were within five feet of each other. Their uniforms were tattered and torn from nearly two weeks on constant fighting, where as the Lunar officer was in a dark blue and neatly pressed uniform jacket. His bicorn hat was also a dark blue with the crescent moon near the brim, and also fifty years out of style to the Kepi-style officer cap. He was an black earth pony with blue eyes and grey mane and tail.
"Good morning Captain, I am Colonel Nightshade of the 8th Lunar Brigade." The stallion introduced himself, his voice had a slight touch of Prench.
"Morning sir. I'm Captain Lawrence of the 1st Coltgrenadier Regiment, or what's left of it anyway." His eyes shifted back to the column behind him.
"My condolences for your fallen, but this is war."
"Like wise."
"Now, shall we discuss the terms for our little cease-fire?" His hoof directed towards the town hall.
"After you sir." Lawrence gestured. The colonel simply nodded and lead the procession in, leaving the two sides outside. The interior of the town hall was surprisingly still intact, despite the gapping hole and charcoal dust on the floor and balconies. The colonel removed his bicorn and gave it to the messenger, but Lawrence kept his cap.
"As you can see Captain, The situation for you grows grimmer by the day, with Canterlot being battered away by General Keibler's Division, I trust we can come to a reasonable solution." The Colonel started off. "What I can offer is safe passage back to friendly lines, with your arms and colors. In return, you surrender Ponyville and all properties within a five miles radius."
"And you promise that no harm will come to the remaining civilians?" Big Mac intervened. The colonel seemed insulted by his abrupt intrusion, but he heed no mind.
"I give you my word, as a officer and gentle colt, not one civilian will be harmed under our care." He lifted his hoof. Mac didn't seem convinced, and the Colonel could see this. "Very well, I'll, how you say, Pinkie Promise?" His hoof crossed his chest and covered his right eye. Somehow, Mac seemed confident with this and backed away.
"Mr. Nightshade, We accept your terms. But if we so much as hear a bad word about this place, you won't have a brigade left to command." Lawrence reached out his hoof.
"Very well." Nightshade extended his and shook.
The two groups exited the Town hall, to see each side remaining still.
"Company, Attention!" Nightshade shouted. The Lunars snapped to attention. The grenadiers simply stood there. Lawrence soon spoke out.
"Battalion! Ready your gear, we march out." He said. "The fight is over, we've had our share." Surrender was never easy, but at least they'll live to see another day. By high noon, The lunars lined the square as the first column of grenadiers began the long march out, lead by their regimental colors and Lawrence. Sketch was marching out with the wounded and any civilians who wished to leave with them, including the Apples family. The procession was long and quiet, the lunars looked upon their former enemy as if they were defeated themselves. The lunars lead the procession towards the east bridge, to the outskirts of town.
"It was nice fighting you." One shouted out. He sounded young, almost Pipsqueak's age. To those who remained; the militia and those who refused the surrender, they continued to hold out in the school, firing at any Lunar who got close. To those who were leaving, they carted out their dead behind the procession. Big Macintosh was walking out with his family, keeping them safe as he once promised Will.
'Before you shoot, Can you promise me this?' His voice echoed in his head.
'What's that?'
'Promise that you'll keep every pony safe, including yourself.'
'I promise' Will didn't believe him. 'I Pinkie Promise.' Mac crossed his chest and covered his eye. Will seemed confused about the Pinkie Promise, but in the end he was convinced. Mac's mind ran rampant as a voice suddenly shouted out to him.
"Big Mac, You alright Cousin?" It was Braeburn, marching alongside AJ.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
The column continued out until they were out of sight of the town, and all they could hear now was the cheering and whooping of the new occupants of Ponyville. --
"General Haybrun, You should see this." the second shouted, looking down the road. The Regiment was now only a mile away to the south of Ponyville. Haybrun rushed over the pulled out a pair of binoculars, and he couldn't believe his eyes. A lunar flag flew above the remains of the charred roof of town hall and he could hear the hollers of the victors echo out the sustaining boom of the Canterlot siege.
"I fear we've lost the 1st grenadiers and Ponyville." Haybrun said in disbelief. Lancer was finally right, It was too late to save any of them.
"Sir, to the east." His second said once again, this time his eyes spotting a column advancing away from Ponyville.
"Now they march on to Canterlot. We must stop them before they reach the city. Regiment, double time to intercept." Haybrun shouted, the regiment quickly returning to formation. He didn't bother to check through his scope to see the grenadier banner flying before them; a mistake that he would regret. -- The First Grenadiers reached the open field road leading towards Canterlot, marching at ease as if they were on holiday. The sun was shining high in the sky, a changing sight from the dark grey skies during the siege. The banners flapped in the cool autumn breeze. The column soon slowed to a steady pace for the wounded to catch up, along with the elderly civilians such as Granny Smith.
"Sir, up ahead." A sergeant from First shouted. Lawrence looked ahead to see another regiment just further down the road, rushing towards them, shouting.
"Damn that Lunar! He's ambushing us! Battalion, Box Formation! Wounded and Civilians in the center!" Lawrence shouted. The column quickly helped the wounded into the center as the box was formed, a crude maneuver but effective none the less. The charging regiment continued at them, firing at the line as they ever go closer.
"Fire!" Lawrence shouted, and the line facing the advancing foe disappeared behind a line of smoke. Bullets impacted the advancing column, only to fall back. When the smoke had cleared, he could see the foe well, only to be shocked in horror. Laying before them were not lunars, but grenadiers! He shot is fellow soldiers.
Haybrun looked out onto the field, his glasses around his neck. He saw the volley of the enemy box, then as the smoke cleared, saw their banner.
"What have I done?" He murmured, seeing the red and blue flag of the 1st Grenadiers. He then advanced through the tree line where he stood and shouted out. "Captain Lawrence!"
"General? Is that you?" Lawrence shouted back. Both Regiments converged, chatting about the events that took place as a selected few placed more dead onto the wagons.
"When we approached Ponyville, we saw the lunars cheering and their banner waving above the town hall. What happened?" Haybrun asked.
"They just kept coming sir, and we were almost out of ammo. We lost nearly fifty percent of the regiment within the eight days sir." Lawrence explained, then asked him. "Why didn't you come sooner?"
Before their conversation could continue, a shot rang out, hitting Haybrun square in the head.
"AMBUSH!!!" A grenadier shouted, then was cut down by a hail of bullets. From the tree lines, Lunar skirmishers picked off their targets. Civilians panicked and scattered towards the reformed box as the lunars charged from both sides. The Box returned fire, killing the advancing lunar attackers. Suddenly, another Lunar unit came from Ponyville.
"Damn it! Fall back to Canterlot! Lawrence shouted. The grenadiers soon broke formation and retreated to the large river past the tree line. Big Mac helped his family into one of the wagons, along with the Cakes. Mr. Cake was about to get in as well when a bullet hit his right hind leg, and another into his back. He groaned in pain as Big Mac helped him into the wagon. By now, the entire formation was in a panic, making towards the bridge post haste, with the lunars still on their tail. Newsprint and Pipsqueak ran together when a round hit Newsprint in the back of his neck, killing him instantly. Pipsqueak didn't look back, he kept running with the others. Braeburn shot back and ran, shot back and ran until he tripped over a dead grenadier, sending his rifle and hat flying. He didn't grab his gun, but took a bite on his hat and ran after the wagons. What Lawrence could remember was that the Colonel promised no civilians would be harmed, but he had turned his back on safe passage for the defeated troops.
The large river bridge was just ahead, their gateway to safety as the routed column ran across. The lunars had reached the river banks and continued firing on them, their bullets missing the wagons as best they could. Any Grenadier that could still fight, held off the lunars as best they could, allowing their brothers to escape. Once the wagons had crossed, a terrifying sight happened. The bridge exploded, sending any poor unfortunate soul on it flying all about. A third of the column was now trapped, including Big Mac, Braeburn, Lawrence and Sketch. In desperation, they started to swim across, only to get picked off by the enemy. The grenadiers on the other side with the wagons, did their best to provide covering fire. Lawrence helped Sketch across while trying to avoid drowning or being hit by the hail of bullets, when suddenly, he felt a grunt on his back. His head turned around to see Sketch's eyes twitch. He knew that look before, and tears formed at the base of his eyes. Braeburn and Mac continued the fight until they were the last ones left on the left side, and before they could get into the water, Braeburn felt a sting in the back on his right flank.
"They got me." He cried in pain. Big Mac wasn't going to leave family behind, so he pulled Braeburn onto this back and jumped into the water, bullets continued to fly overhead. Swimming with all his might, Mac was determined to keep his promise until he reached the other bank, where a group of grenadiers were covering. Every pony else had continued their run deeper in. Lawrence was amongst the group, firing shot after shot from a rifle, then his service pistol, tears flowing down his nuzzle.
"Get out of here, move!" He shouted, then reached for Sketch. The grenadiers soon dispersed and disappeared into the tree line, the lunar bullets still buzzing all around them.
Night had fallen as the bewildered and defeated grenadiers reached the southern defense line near Canterlot. Stars shined brightly whilst their Royal Guard comrades watched them march past.
"What's the matter? Didn't get whipped hard enough." A guard joked. Big Macintosh left rank and took hold of the cocky guard. The other guards nearby tried to pry him off, but they couldn't maneuver well in the heavy gold armor.
"Ask us that one more time... I dare you." Mac's voice sounded dark, nearly frightening the guard.
"Big Mac. Let 'em go, Too much blood's already been spilled today." Braeburn hobbled next to him. Hesitating, Big Mac snorted in the guards face and shoved him back into his trench. The two soon carried on with the others.
"The hay's his problem?" The guard asked.
"I don't know Keen Eye, but they sure as hay seen more than any pony has." The other guard there replied, watching the column march further behind the lines.
Camp fires crackled and popped, lighting the way for the grenadiers towards the far rear and the south city gate, where General Lancer was waiting with his staff.
"Captain, why are your men not in proper formation?" He asked Lawrence. Lawrence said nothing. "I asked you a question soldier." Lancer asked again, anger flooding his vocal chords. Again, he said nothing.
"The commander asked you a question, Captain." A Royal guard colonel replied.
"With all due respect sir, now is not the right time." Lawrence finally muttered.
"On the contrary, now is the perfect time to-" the Colonel started again, only to find a pistol barrel pointed at his face.
"Haybrun told me everything, how we're just pawns in your little 'Chess' match you call a war. We're expendable, aren't we?" Lawrence asked. The Colonel still aimed down the barrel.
"That was only in anger, son. I've meant no foul meaning otherwise." Lancer tried to defend his officer. "Now, tell us what happened." Lawrence slowly lowered the pistol and returned it to his holster.
"They ambushed us, after we declared a cease-fire. The mother buckers."
"Where's General Haybrun?"
"He's in a better place, away from flank holes like you." Lawrence looked to Lancer. "You promised us supplies and reinforcements, yet we had to fend for ourselves."
"Canterlot was under siege at the time, we couldn't lighten the defenses for a dirt town such as Ponyville." A third officer replied.
"Bull! Your not under siege now, We didn't get our flanks blasted off when we even got close to the south line. You almost as dishonorable as that damn Lunar Nightshade!" Lawrence shouted, tears starting to form at his eyes. "Because of you, I've lost my brother. We've lost half our regiments, we've lost Ponyville, and now we're losing the war!" Lancer was speechless. No pony had ever lectured him, not since the Griffon Wars with Haybrun, now he was getting back talk from a grenadier captain.
"That's treasonous talk right there Captain. We could have you shot for such a thing." The Colonel shouted back. "General, I suggest we court-martial him and all these other traitors." He turned to Lancer, who stood still, his mind elsewhere. "Sir?" --
"He's right you know." Haybrun said. Lancer found himself in a white void, and the only ponies there were him and Haybrun.
"Ever since you became the Commander of the Army, you've made bad decisions after another, costing you men, cities and even fine officers such as myself."
"I've won battles." Lancer claimed to his defense.
"Name one." Haybrun replied, suddenly in Lancer's face. He had him there; he had never won a battle since the Griffon Wars.
"It's my staff. They're not as experienced like us."
"You were the same when I was your commanding officer, and now your suffering from your rash staff. Had you kept at least one experienced officer, things would have been different." Haybrun said.
"Then tell me, what should I do?" Lancer asked, only to see the void starting to disappear.
"Learn from your mistakes, or you won't last long." Haybrun's voice faded. --
"Sir." The Colonel asked again. Lancer shook his head.
"uh... what?"
"Should we court-martial Captain Lawrence for threatening your life and treason?" The Colonel asked once more, sounding a bit irritated. He looked to Lawrence, who was still fueled with anger and sorrow.
"No."
"No? but sir.."
"I said no, Colonel!" Lancer barked. The Colonel remained silent. "Now I want you to send a full report to the Ministry immediately, while I handle things here, and I want General Blazer as my new second." The Colonel was shocked.
"But I'm your second in command sir, you can't-"
"Then perhaps you would like to be court-martialed for dereliction of duty." The Colonel zipped his mouth and quickly did as he was told. The third d officer simply stood silent. Lancer then turned back to Lawrence.
"My condolences on your losses. Until your regiments are ready for battle once more, take as much time to recover as you need. I'll see what I can do to get you what you need, Major." Lancer said. Lawrence simply saluted and flew his hoof forward; the column soon started once more into the city.
"You promoted him sir? Why?" the third officer finally spoke.
"I need to start filling some empty promises I once made a friend." Lancer put it simply and went back into the city.
There is a cemetery just near the Grand Canterlot Cathedral on the east side of the city, and was now the resting ground for the fallen grenadiers who were carted out of Ponyville before the ambush, before more were lost at Large River. Ceremonies were short, not to prolong the loss followed by a sad tune. (based off the German military song Ich hatt Eine Kameraden)
'I once had a fellow comrade,
who fought alongside me.
We have once laughed together,
we have once lived together,
Now there is now only me,
Now there is now only me.'
'He was my fellow brother,
since the day we first met here.
We trained and camped together,
but now he's gone forever
Mein Gutte Kamerad
Mein Gutte Kamerad'
Big Mac stood by as each coffin was lowered into the ground, then he looked over to Lawrence, who remained at a single tombstone. He could tell he was crying, but not too loud for all to hear. When the burials were done, the grenadiers left the cemetery for their tents nearby, but Mac went over to Lawrence.
"Are you going to be alright tonight?" He asked, remembering William.
"Give me time, and I'll get better." Lawrence replied, trying to calm down. He was about to Pinkie Promise, but Mac laid a hoof on his, stopping the gesture.
"No more promises." He said, then turned back towards the camp.
"Very well then, Captain." Lawrence said, remaining at the grave. Mac turned back, and his eyes must be playing with him. Sitting alongside him was William, Haybrun and now Sketch, looking onto the grave. He saw Sketch lay his left front hoof on Lawrence, then patting him on the back. He rubbed his eyes and when he looked once more, they were gone, leaving him in the dark and moonlit night.
[Four months later...]
Spring had sprung early in Canterlot and the Lunar forces were finally on the retreat. The Royal Guard 10th Corps under General Cotton Eye had smashed through the Lunar siege works from the east, trapping them in a pocket in which all of them surrendered. The morning rise was a fresh start for the newly refitted Coltgrenadier Brigade under command of the newly promoted Major Lawrence Roberts and his new second Captain Macintosh.
"Morning sir." Macintosh saluted as he entered Lawrence's tent. The sun shine nearly blinded him as he clambered out of the hammock. Stretching, he yawned a morning to Mac.
"Morning Mac. How's the brigade?"
"Fully recovered, including our good cook Mr. Cakes and my cousin, Lieutenant Braeburn. We got two new companies last week, all from the surrounding area and trained by General Lancer." Mac reported. Lancer had been generous in lending some Royal Guard newbies or flunkies to the brigade, along with fresh uniforms and weapons; but he still wouldn't forgive him for what had happened last year.
"Very well then. That brings us back up to fighting strength of four regiments. Now, what's for breakfast?" He asked cheerfully.
"Same rations unfortunately." Mac groaned. Out of all four months they've been here, they've never gotten a good local meal."
"Wrong. You, me and the officers are going to town for breakfast. Best tell Mr. Cakes to start cooking up the meal we had back at Fort Orchard when you started off. I'm sure that will brighten up the day even further." Lawrence replied. Mac couldn't have agreed more and followed his commanding officer out into the blinding morning light. The grass was green, the sky was cleared by the weather teams and the birds were singing from the trees as the group of grenadier officers walked into town. The streets were clear of snow and alive with ponies going about their business, and one of the finest restaurants in town was made a officer's club. A lone guard stood at the door, and went stiff as the group arrived at the door.
"Morning sirs." He saluted, then recognized the large red stallion from before. "And sorry about that joke a while back sir. I heard news about it and wanted to apologize."
"Apology accepted soldier." Mac replied and followed the officers inside. The Restaurant interior was the best standards, according to the Canterlot Elite who had the money to buy a meal here, but with the war, most of their money was funding the war efforts so they couldn't go out to eat as often as they use to. To the officers, it was a pleasure to keep it afloat with their military discounts.
"How many will be seated today?" The clerk asked.
"Table for five please." Lawrence said,
"Make it six." A voice added. Lancer stood behind them. The group snapped to attention, followed by the entire restaurant patrons who were there; mainly officers.
"At ease. I hope this doesn't bother you Major."
"Not at all sir. It beats the usual gruel we call rations." Lawrence joked. Lancer chuckled as well. The clerk led them to a large table near the front window and took their order.
"I trust everything is well?" Lancer started the conversation. Lawrence lost his hospitality.
"Yes. Thank you for the much need supplies and troops. I'm sure they'll do fine in battle." He replied.
"Major... I just want to end this hostile stalemate. I know you'll never forgive my actions before, but I've learned from my mistakes, by firing my second and replacing him with General Cotton Eye." Lancer admitted.
"Smart choice. I remember Haybrun telling stories about him and Cotton Eye during the Dog Crusades, the battle of Woof creek so to speak. I hear he's now in charge of both the 10th and 11th Guards."
"Yes. I plan to let him lead another Corps, but I doubt he could control that many problems."
"Congratulations on retaking Baltimare last month." Macintosh added, remembering the news about the victory.
"Thank you Captain, but now I plan to march on Manehatten; their 'capital' so to speak." Lancer said. Ever since the retreat from Manehatten, the Lunar Republic had made it their impromptu capital once Canterlot was taken.
"The only way you could reach Manehatten would have to be through Ponyville though." Lawrence noted. Most of the officers lowered their heads. Lancer still couldn't believe it; especially that night outside the south gate.
"Yes, I plan to take back Ponyville before marching onto Manehatten, but I'll need some experienced soldiers." He hinted. "A possible chance for Redemption..." the others didn't seem to care. "...or revenge." Lancer finished. Their ears perked at the word, especially Lawrence.
Once their meals were finished and the bill paid, the six officers remained for a round of cider and to discuss the plans of action against the Lunars at Ponyville.
"A siege would take too long, and a frontal assault across the east town bridge would be suicidal." Lawrence moved his over a napkin map of Ponyville, using some food crumbs as troops.
"Then what about a flanking attack to the west?" Lancer pointed to the opposite end of the napkin.
"We'd need a diversionary brigade, then we can have two Brigades sweep to the south, up through Sweet Apple Acres. My brigade will then advance to the north through the Everfree forest and the second pushing up through the town to help the diversionary brigade. From there, We can force them to the north river here..." Lawrence maneuvered the crumbs towards a spill above the napkin. "...and that's where we'll crush them." He then slammed his hoof onto the crumb by the spill.
"I finally see why Haybrun liked you. Your a tactical mastermind." Lancer was surprised by how much that plan made sense.
"Try and keep up sir, and you'll be marching down Broadmare by this Friday." He joked. The officers gave a rowdy laugh, including Big Mac.
"Is that a promise?" Lancer asked. The laughter suddenly stopped.
"Never make promises you can't keep...." Lawrence growled. "...They're nothing but trouble." The group once again laughed. It was almost ten o'clock as the group finally left the restaurant, the guard saluting them out.
"Now, Major. Stop by the Ministry with the plans as soon as possible. I doubt my officers will have a second glance with a napkin map with crumbs on it." Lancer said.
"I'll have them in tonight sir, right after the ceremony."
"Ceremony? What Ceremony?"
"We're changing the brigade name to Haybrun's Grenadiers, in honor of our fallen commander and fellow grenadiers at Large River. Your welcome to drop by if you want." Lawrence replied.
"Thank you for the offer, but I have other matters back at the Ministry to attend to." Lancer rejected and went on his way. The grenadier officers saluted and went on their way back to the camp.
"How much further?" A young grenadier asked. The Attack had begun this morning, taking the Lunar defenders out the outskirts completely by surprise, and the second brigade had started theirs at Sweet Apple Acres. The gunfire and low boom of the cannons echoed throughout the valley from the east and behind them from the south. As for the Haybrun Coltgrenadier Brigade, they were slowly making their way through the Everfree forest towards the north river.
"About another mile or so." Pipsqueak replied, his voice deeper with age to match his promotion to Sergeant of Fourth Company. Further ahead, Lawrence and Big Mac led the brigade since they had both lived off the land as a farm colt and a former railroad operator.
"So what did happen to the Railyard of your?" Mac asked, wanting to know more about Lawrence's memories.
"The mines up in the Cimarrons ran dry and we had to tear down miles of tracks leading up. Income slowed down even further when the town of Everfree went bankrupt and eventually became a ghost town, forcing us to move the entire yard to Whitetail forest near Ponyville. We left everything behind, including our family gravesite." Lawrence explained. "It's a little patch of grass above the yard where you could see over the treetops, as far as the eye can see. You could barely make out the Castle from there, and every night since my father's death, my brothers and I..." He stopped, the haunting memories of his brothers flooding his mind.
"Are you ok?" Mac asked.
"Yeah." His voice sounded darker. "Let's get this over with." and he pressed on. --
"FIRE!" Lancer shouted, cannons firing at the enemy lines. He had instructed all cannonier crews to avoid damage to Ponyville if possible and force the Lunars towards the north river. "Major Stampede."
"Sir."
"Infantry reserves to the center."
"But we've taking the town sir and the 4th Royal Guards are coming in from the south as we speak." Stampede replied, seeing the Lunars retreat towards the north end of town.
"Now we will take their Spirits. Send the entire brigade towards the north river and crush them. It end's today." He shouted back and looked through his binoculars, waiting for the signal from the Grenadiers. He soon saw a flash from the opposite bank of the north river. He gave a grin. --
"They're in position sir." Mac replied.
"And just in time too." Lawrence looked over the river to see the entire Lunar defense come running towards them, no doubt the Royal guards on their trail. The North river was almost as wide as the Large river, but was shallow had more rapids to it. The bridge across was the only safe passage, but it wouldn't be for long. Lawrence looked through his binoculars to catch a glimpse of their banner, and an evil smile grew on his face. These were the same lunars who attacked them at Ponyville and at Large river.
"Fight Fire with Fire. Not a single lunar leaves that field alive, clear?" Lawrence shouted.
"Sir yes sir!"
"This for our brothers you buckers." Lawrence muttered.
"Sir, why are stopping?" Stampede asked. Lancer had ordered a halt at the outskirts. "They will escape over the North river and warn Manehatten."
"Oh Believe me, Major, they won't get that chance." Lancer said, confusing the young major.
Colonel Nightshade lead the retreat towards the river, his bicorn hat lost to Ponyville. His honor and salvation laid just on the other side, along with the rest of the 11th Lunar brigade. When he noticed the Royal guards were not giving chase, something in his mind clicked, but by then it was too late. As the first group of lunars reached the bridge, all hell broke loose.
"FIRE!!!" Lawrence shouted, and a hail of bullets punched through the tree lines on all three sides of the enemy. Lunars fell left and right as the hails continued. Once the volley was over, another volley came; this time from the Royal guards behind the lunars.
"CHARGE! BAYONETS!" Lawrence shouted once again, and every grenadier from the tree lines charged out, yelling like mad, shouting out 'For Large river, For ol' Haybrun!' The Lunars had panicked, not even trying to shoot back. They scattered towards the river, only to be cut down by the skirmishers remaining there. The grenadiers soon clashed into the enemy and had no intention of sparing any of them. Screams of death cried out as Lunars were cut down by stainless steel and bullets.
"Sir, shouldn't we stop them?" Stampede asked, now fearing the safety for any of their wounded.
"No. It would be wrong now to stop them, as far as I could care, those rebels deserve this." Lancer simply stated as screams of death turned to cries for help. The grenadiers were getting what they had dreamed since Large river: Revenge. Eighteen minutes later, the sounds of battle slowly faded as a handful of lunars were left, including Nightshade. Dead ponies laid everywhere, not even their wounded was spared.
"Where is your honor? You butchers?!" Nightshade shouted, only to get hit with the butt of the rifle.
"Where was yours?!" Lawrence approached, service pistol in hoof. "You had promised safe passage, and what did we get? Five Companies died at Large River, ambushed by your men." Lawrence soon shot one of the survivors, then four more; each for the dead companies. "Your promises are nothing but dirt." He shot another. "Your no better than Dogs!" Another lunar fell until it was just Nightshade left.
"What would your Commander think of this massacre? What about General Lancer?" He shouted.
"You can ask our 'Commander' himself, as for Lancer, who do you think gave us the order for no quarter?" Lawrence aimed the pistol square to his head. Nightshade's eyes widened as the trigger was pulled. --
"That's the last of them. Who knew they'd be this heavy?" Pipsqueak said, helping another grenadier with a dead lunar. The field before North River was littered with dead ponies, all of them Lunars. Buzzards overhear circled around, looking for something to chew on as grenadiers stacked weapons and equipment while placing bodies into wagons. They may be murderers, but they were trained and respectable soldiers. No pony was looting and any valuables found were placed into large chests, to return to the families of the fallen once the war was over; whenever it came. Lawrence overlooked the activities when Lancer arrived.
"Major, report." He asked.
"The entire brigade killed, while minor casualties on our side, mainly wounded." Lawrence replied with profession.
"I sure the dead at Large River will finally find their peace after today. I'm sure Haybrun would have been proud." Lancer started.
"Sir, Haybrun wouldn't have been this cruel. The enemy wounded alone should have survived, but something in us prevented that. He says it was the thirst for vengeance, when you have nothing to loose but have everything to gain."
"Yes, I remember that saying. He told me that when we attacked a Griffon stronghold responsible for several massacres along the Northern Mountains near Stalliongrad. We didn't spare any of them, not even the women and children. We had lost too many because of them, and it only felt right to pay them back."
"Fight fire with fire." Lawrence said.
"Exactly. Right, I'll leave you to your work. We'll march for Manehatten in a few hours." Lancer saluted and headed back towards Ponyville. Lawrence returned the salute as Mac pulled up with a wagon load of bodies.
"Here's the last wagon. Should we bury them at the Cemetery?"
"Yes, but make sure they receive a proper funeral. We're not animals." Lawrence replied. Mac simply nodded and pulled the wagon away. --
'Dear Applejack,
'It's been a while since Ponyville and North River that I've written to ya'll, but this letter has to be brief. We're still marching towards Manehatten, along with General Lancer's 5th Guard Corps. We plan to meet up with the 10th and 11th Corps at Manehatten's city limits for a, hopefully, final assault on the last Lunar stronghold. Since then, most of Equestria who lived under Lunar control have rejected their so called 'liberators' and helped the Army defeat them in open battle as skirmishers, militia and volunteer battalions. I'm sorry I missed Applebloom get her cutie mark, but I can't wait to see it when we come home, hopefully soon. Your loving brother, Big Macintosh.' Big Mac finished writing the letter and placed it in his saddlebag. The Brigade had rested just a few miles south of the city limit, along with the rest of Lancer's Corps.
"Just a few more miles boys and we'll give them what for!" Lawrence shouted. --
"INCOMING!" A guard shouted. A cannonade crashed nearby, forcing the advancing column to hug the ground. Street fighting was the deadliest form of fighting in any war, with limited space to maneuver and constant obstacles and barricades established by the fanatical lunar defenders. Royal Pegasi up above dropped small ordinances to batter away the barricades, but they weren't as strong as the ground forces had hoped, especially against cannon emplacements. Big Mac lead Fourth Company towards the main square near town hall; one of the many public buildings turned into Lunar strongpoint. The Grenadier's job was to loosen the defenses and then clear them out, and with their newest toys; they could get it done quick.
"Hard point ahead. Bring it up!" Mac shouted. A low rumble gently shook the streets, then grew louder and louder until it was right behind the company. It was a large wagon with the strongest wood all around mounted with a light cannon out in the open with protective cover for the gunner and loader. It's unicorn driver was positioned inside the wooden behemoth with vision slips large enough for him/her to see clearly. Thanks to the inspirational minds of the FlimFlam Brothers , this new vehicle was called a War Wagon based off the Super Speedy Cider Squeezie 6000. The War Wagon soon pulled before the company and targeted the town hall's main doors.
"Fire in the hole!" The gunner shouted and pulled the firing cord with his mouth. The light cannon spat out lead and smoke. A few seconds later, the round hit the doors with a fiery explosion. The new breech design made loading in the War Wagon easier than the conventional cannons used by both sides and the loader loaded another round within ten seconds.
"Hit it again. Company ready weapons." Mac said. The Grenadiers with him readied another new weapon; a revolving rifle with a fifteen round revolver-style magazine and shorter barrel. As the War Wagon fired once again, they charged out of their corner cover and towards Town hall. Royal Guard Engineers closely followed behind, ready to clear any wire obstacles they would come across. Upon arrival at the blown away doors, the grenadiers quickly advanced inside, clearing out room by room, leaving any lunar who surrendered alive. They had a reputation to restore since the rivers. When Mac arrived at the last room before the roof, a sudden explosion flung him back over the foyer railing and crashing onto the ground. His eyes blurred then faded to black.
"Big Mac, you ok?" a familiar voice asked, He opened his eyes to see William standing above him in a white empty void. Nearby was Sketch, Haybrun, Newsprint and the many other grenadiers who had died.
"Am I dead?" Mac asked, William lending him a helping hoof up.
"Not yet, my boy. You merely fell off the third floor railing and broke you right hind leg." Haybrun said in a distance.
"And the fall knocked you out square in the head." Sketch added.
"Tell me, Were you lot really by Lawrence's side at the tombstone?" Mac recalled the night so many months ago.
"You saw us? How?"
"I couldn't get a good night's sleep without seeing or hearing you." He looked to William. "After the promise I made to ya, I couldn't think of anything else."
"Listen Mac, I know you've done your best to keep your promise, but it was just that, a promise." William laid a hoof on Mac, trying to comfort him. "You don't need to worry about it anymore. Now get back there and finish the fight." He shoved Mac backwards and the void suddenly turned black. Mac suddenly woke up, gasping for breath as the fighting around him continued on.
"Mac, you ok?" Braeburn looked over him, as William had done before. Mac tired to get up, but he felt a pain in his right hind leg. Haybrun was right.
"Yeah, just a broken leg." Mac said. Braebrun tried to lift him up, but he was too heavy. He called out to some pony and Mr. Cake rushed over to help. He had made a full recovery after Large River and been the cook/medic for the brigade ever since.
"We'll get to you a safe place outside, that way I could patch you up as best I can." Mr. Cake said. Mac simply nodded and the trio trotted out of the town hall.
Big Macintosh was rested down in the grass at the grand park, where it had be converted to a field hospital. Wounded soldiers from both Grenadiers and Royal Guards groaned and ached in pain as the echoing gunfire surrounded them, distant obviously. There were also Lunar wounded nearby, but under heavy guard incase they tired something tricky. He looked over to see Pipsqueak nearby, rested on a cot. A bullet had punctured his skull, but entirely missed the brain; although he would blinded one side for the rest of his life. At least he would live.
"What happened Pip?" Mac asked. The pinto turned to him.
"We attacked the barracks and a sniper nearly got me, but something forced me aside. The bullet hit my head near my left ear. Doc says I might go blind in my left eye soon. Yourself?" Pip replied.
"Broken leg, fell from the town hall's third floor railing from a room explosion." He replied. Suddenly, his ears perked up. The constant gunfights and explosions, they've stopped. Every pony at the hospital waited for something to happen. Suddenly, a single Pegasus flew towards them, dove down and quickly stopped before hitting the ground. He was a pinto just like Pipsqueak, but his left wing was a different color than his right. He touched down, leaving a small cloud of dust at impact.
"Who's that?"
"That's Captain 'Dustoff' Forrester. He's one of the air platoon leaders from the Wonderbolts." A guard replied. The Wonderbolts were the best flyers in all of Equestria, and 'Dustoff', as the rumors spread, was the original founder. Although he didn't seem old, his flying patterns were basic Wonderbolt trademarks, not to mention his brown flight jacket and helmet to match.
"I just got word from the front." He started, shouting out for the whole park to hear. "The New Lunar Republic, as of today, April 30th 1876, has surrendered to the Royal Equestrian Army." He finished. An eerie silence filled the camp. Surrendered.
"War's over boys. We're going home!" Mac shouted. In a fanatic uproar, the camp cheered and hollered, tossing their hooves into the air with joy. The cries of joy echoed throughout the hallowed smoke-filled city, from both wounded and alive, for the end they sought had at last arrived. The war was over. Any Lunar supporters there, simply hung their heads in shame, knowing the fate they will receive once the celebrations were over. -- When news of the victory reached Lawrence at the remains of the train station strongpoint, he didn't say anything. He didn't cheer, he didn't even smile. All he did was stand there, tears forming at the base of his eyes. This was not the kind of victory he had hoped for. -- [Three days later...] The Manehatten Strain station was crowded with grenadiers and guards, homeward bound. Mr. Cake, Pipsqueak and Braeburn boarded the train, helping most of the wounded who couldn't walk aboard. Big Mac did the same further down with the guards when he noticed Lawrence alone near the very end of the platform. Lancer was there, talking to him.
"Here, could you help him?" He asked a nearby guard. He replied yes and took over, freeing Mac to get closer to their conversation.
"You did a fine job Major. Is there anything I could do to convince you to stay on, maybe as my strategic officer?" Lancer said.
"No sir. I've done enough for one lifetime. I'd rather go home, back to my Railyard. I'm also gonna stop by the Canterlot graveyard to take him back with me." Lawrence replied.
"I see. Well, If you have second thoughts, feel free to stop by the Ministry and we'll see what we can do." Lancer saluted and returned towards the main building, once again leaving him alone. Mac soon approached him.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with the general." He said.
"Yeah."
"So this is it then? You get to go home to a loving family?" Lawrence replied, looking to the red stallion.
"Eeyup. We do have some spare rooms if you want to stay."
"Thank you for the offer Mac, but I'll stick with what I got." The train whistle blew and the conductor shouted out from the platform.
"ALL ABOARD FOR PONYVILLE. ALL ABOARD!" Mac turned to the train, then back to Lawrence.
"Train's about to leave, you coming?" Mac said.
"Nah, I think I walk home." Lawrence said. He reached his hoof out. "It was an honor fighting alongside you Captain Macintosh."
"Likewise, Major." Mac reached his out and met his. The train whistle blew once again, and slowly pulled away from the platform. Macintosh turned around and jumped onto the nearest car, the train starting to gain speed. He looked back once more to not just see Lawrence, but also William, Haybrun, Sketch and Newsprint standing by him. Lawrence turned to his right where Sketch was, and Sketch looked to him.
"Brothers to the end." Lawrence mouthed to the ghost.
"Brothers to the end." the ghost mouthed back. Macintosh rubbed his eyes, looked once more and saw only Lawrence once again, walking away.
The train pulled into Ponyville, awaiting them was the cheerful citizens and families. Mr. Cake was the first one off, to meet the warm embrace of his wife and the twins, now able to trot over to his legs. Pipsqueak was next, who ran over to his parents, tears flowing from his eyes with joy. As more and more local ponies got off the train, more welcomes and hugs went around and finally came Big Macintosh. As he laid a hoof on the platform, Applebloom jumped him and they both went down onto the grass. Tears in her eyes, Applebloom snuggled herself under his chin as Applejack, her friends and Granny Smith trotted over, the same feeling overwhelming them. Braeburn got off as well, to get a hug from Applejack. Ponyville was alive with the sounds of joy, but some shed a tear of sorrow as the caskets soon came off the flatbed cars behind them. As his family and friends embraced his return, Macintosh looked up to the sky, wondering how his new friend would be after all he had lost.
Sun shining high in the sky, Lawrence walked down the road towards Ponyville, which was a good day or so out. He preferred to walk since it gave him time to himself. The birds chirped in the distance and the white clouds lingered overhead, casting shadows on the ground. The wood railing fence lined the road on both sides, the landscape unscaved by the war.
"So, what now brother?" a voice said.
"Well, Sketch. I was thinking of selling the Railyard and moving to Ponyville. I hear it's lovely this time of year." Lawrence replied. Sketch's ghost floated alongside him.
"I'm sure Dad will be alright with your choice. It would be difficult to run it all on your own." Another voice added. Lawrence turned to his left to see another familiar face.
"I'm sure he would be Max. I'm sure he would be." The trio continued down the road, towards a hopeful future.