> The Great Equestrian War > by Thegrohingnation > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Intro (basically everything you need to know before starting this) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- For centuries, there has been a bitter feud between the humans of Deutschland and the horses of Saddle Arabia. While the humans became allies with the dragon lands for their gunpowder, the Saddle Arabians sided with the pony kingdom- Equestria. Opting to stay out of the fighting, the princesses decided on aiding the Saddle Arabians with supply shipments; while the dragons also sent supplies to the humans. This shook the relationship between Deutschland and Equestria, however it was eventually reconnected. It was even stronger than before with tourism and immigrants from both kingdoms 200 years before Luna's return, Princess Celestia was in a panic as the cities of Manedleton, Capall, and Chapaillíní wanted to break away from Equestria. Princess Celestia, fearing a civil war, decided to send in the royal guard to calm the uprising, but was met with more resistance. For three months, several small skirmishes were scattered throughout the area. Most famously was the battle of sourdough hill where the guard launched a massive artillery strike on the rebel position in attempts to stop the rebellion. More royal guard companies were sent in, most of the ponies left. They had packed up and left, and headed to Deutschland; where they were welcomed with open arms. From there, they created the first Pony Brigade-An entire brigade of pony volunteers. Around the same time as the Pony Uprising, the leaders of Deutschland and Saddle Arabia had been making great attempts in ending the hostilities. They had set up numerous treaties and trade deals. Ultimately, the current Sultan of Saddle decided that Saddle Arabia has had enough of Deutschland's industrialism influence and ends the treaties, secretly sending thousands of troops to the border; calling it "The Necessary Crusade" for his country. Here is an example of the uniforms for each kingdom Equestrian Royal Guard (There will be other variants of their uniforms) Saddle Arabian Infantry (ignore the bolt action) Deutschland Infantry Weapons (because everyone loves weapons) Deutschland Deutschland musket (1809 Potsdam Musket) Dragoons' Revolver Rifle (1858 Remington Black Powder Revolving Carbine) Officers' pistol (Prussian Colt Model 1851) Equestria Standard Royal Guard Musket (1853 Enfield) Equestrian repeating rifle used by cavalry and Wonderbolts ( Winchester model 1895) Officers' pistol (Webley Mark IV revolver) Saddle Arabia Saddle Arabian Rifle (Shishana Rifle-Ottoman Empire) Officer's revolver (S&W Turkish Revolver) Saddle Arabian Breech loader (Turkish Snider Conversion Rifle) 6 pounder cannon Howitzer Cannon 2o pounder cannon The Gatling gun (mostly used by the humans as an anti Pegasus gun) ALSO Just want to point out that cavalry exists here. All sides will use it. > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Camelhoof Plains, May 5th, 10:35am Along the border of Deutschland and Saddle Arabia A company of Deutsche dragoons were patrolling along the Camelhoof plains. It is a barren place, always hot and very few trees. It should be a routine patrol for this company, however rumors spread from the small farming town of Drachenstadt that some shepherds saw a large Saddle Arabian force on the other side of the mountains along the border. There was around 100 in their company. Leading them was Cpt Bren Haas. As they reached the top of Little Rock Hill, Cpt Haas looked out over the Saddle Arabian side. He was shocked. Hundreds if not thousands of tents and soldiers. Some were guarding various areas of their camp. Others were idly talking to each other. Still others were unloading wagons of food and supplies, some were even unloading cannon rounds. They looked as if they are preparing invasion. "What the Hell?" the captain mumbles. His other officers share a glance of confusion before he hands them the binoculars. "Whole damn army down there. Looks like those rumors were true." "Hauptmann, " (Captain)One of the lower officers said." even if they attack right here right now; there's no way we would be able to hold them off till reinforcements arrive. Let alone stop them. They have at least two brigades down there." Cpt Haas thought for a minute before deciding "Alright, here's what we're going to do. Firstly, I need a runner." He states, as a runner rides up to him. he writes out a quick note before handing it to the runner." Take this letter to Col. Wolmans at Fort Little Rock. Tell him to send reinforcements to this location." The young runner salutes and heads off towards the fort." As for the rest of the men, we will pull back a little ways and dig in. We've got to hol-." He was cut off when a cannon was fired at them from the camp. The shell landed a few meters away knocking a few soldiers off their horses. "Shit! Fall back!" He ordered as the couple of soldiers pick themselves off the ground. Looking back down the hill, the dragoons were mortified to see the entire camp charging up the at them. Some of the men fired a couple of shots into the charging mass of ponies, before falling back out of the range of the cannons. Once the company was on their side of the hill, they all dismounted and prepared for battle. Armed with their revolver rifles, the dragoons took cover behind anything they could find. Some took cover behind tree stumps; others behind large rocks, some even just crouched in the tall grass. As they were just getting positioned, the first wave of Saddle Arabian infantry was cresting the top of the hill. "HERE THEY COME!" one of the men shouted. "Keep your heads down, lads!" With that, the dragoons open fired. The first volley struck the horde causing many to drop dead. This was repeated with the second and third volley of gunfire before the Saddle Arabians were ready to return fire. Cpt. Haas could only watch in horror as his men struggled to hide behind what little cover they had. The first volley of enemy fire had already killed twelve of his men and wounded another eight. He could only pray that reinforcements arrive soon. He's not sure how long him and his men will last, but he knows it won't be long. His men's attempt to stop the Saddle Arabians seems fruitless. Even though they've killed a couple hundred, his company is taking severe casualties. Cpt. Haas could order a retreat now and regroup with Col. Wolmans' Regiment. All he has to do is get him and his 32 surviving men to their horses. Peaking out from behind his log, he readied himself to run to his horse "Retreat!" He shouted, "Get to the fort!" As he gets up, a bullet strikes him in the shoulder, before another one hits him in his lower back. He drops to the ground onto his knees. The last thing he sees, is the remains of his men galloping off towards their fort; before falling to the ground where he breaths his last. The mass of Saddle Arabians swarmed the area, before advancing towards the fort. As the 22nd border regiment was preparing to reinforce Cpt. Haas ' dragoons, the remnants of his company arrived at the gate. In total, only 28 made it there. Upon being let in, the survivors immediately took positions along the walls. Second lieutenant Wicki was then approached by Col Wolmans. "Lieutenant, what is the meaning of this? Where is your commanding officer?" He questioned. "Dead sir." Wicki answered with a crisp salute. "We're all that's left. Colonel, we've got to get the men to fortify this place. The Saddle Arabians are coming, sir." "How many?" Col. Wolmans asked. "How many are coming, lieutenant?" "Two maybe three brigades, sir." "Damn. Inform the battery officers, tell them to ready the 4 inch mortars. We're going to need them." "Yes sir." Wicki runs off to find the battery commander, leaving Col. Wolmans to his thoughts. 'If this be my last battle, give me a clean death. A soldiers death." Upon finding the mortar batteries, Wicki is greeted by the short battery commander, Cpt. Adolph Fritz. He was already preparing the mortars for the coming battle with the rest of his men. His battery was a mixture of humans and ponies. Many artillery batteries enlist earth ponies for their strength. Being able to move cannons fast has it's advantages. Transferring the message to Cpt. Fritz, Wicki watched as the men and ponies got to work adjusting the cannons to face the south. He jumped a little when the cannons on the fortress walls began firing, meaning the Saddle Arabians were there. Both him and Cpt. Fritz looks up to see which wall had open fired. Upon seeing smoke from the south cannons, the western guns started firing. "They're trying to flank us!" Cpt. Fritz shouted, as Wicki ran to the walls where the rest of his men are. The remnants of the dragoons were held up on the southwest corner of the fort. "I want half of the mortars to focus their fire to the west and the other half to focus fire on the south! Explosive shells, 900 meters!" A minute later, the mortars opened fire. Wicki watched as the shells rained down on the Saddle Arabian lines. The explosions would throw ponies across the field they were marching across. Some of the shells were exploding above them, sending hot shrapnel crashing into their lines; dropping the soldiers by the dozen. Solid shells fired from the wall cannons also tore through the lines. about ten minutes later, one of the dragoons notices something in the distance and gets Wicki's attention. "Sir what's that?" He asks while pointing to the location. Pulling out a pair of binoculars, he focused in on where the soldier was pointing. What he saw, mortified him. Several 6 pound cannons were being positioned. One of them was pointed right at him and fires. "Oh Shit!" He yells. "Get Down!" He pulls the soldier to the ground, as the shell strikes the wall; sending bits of rock flying up at them. "That was close." The soldier says. Wicki breaths a sigh of relief as several mortar shells pass over the wall. The sounds of musket fire erupted around them. looking out over the wall, Wicki saw that the ponies were close, some were even returning fire. Bodies of ponies litter the field leading up to the walls. He watches as several of the infantrymen are struck by musket fire. A hook tied to a rope lands next to him, before it is pulled back and gets caught on the wall. "They're trying to scale the walls!" He shouted as several dragoons unsheathed their swords. A cannonball struck the ground next to Wicki sending rock fragments into his leg. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, clutching his leg. One of the men got to work patching up his leg while the others set up a defensive perimeter around the two. A hand emerges from outside the wall, followed by a head as the ponies begin scaling the walls. The dragoons take the first shots. One pony is stuck twice in the chest as he falls backwards off the wall. Another pony falling forward hang on the battlements. Several other ponies are hit once the step onto the floor. The ponies scale the battlements and return fire before charging with bayonet. The soldiers return with their swords. A fierce hand to hand battle commences on the corner as more and more ponies scale the wall. A group of regular infantry makes their way down the wall to reinforce the dragoons, when a cannonball tears through their group killing five of them instantly. The small group of infantry crashes into the ponies with their bayonets. The dragoons positioned Lt. Wicki against a couple of powder kegs. While they fight hand to hand, he's providing fire from his revolver. One pony charges him before getting shot in the gut, dropping him to his knees. Wicki fires again, striking the pony in the chest; killing him. The onslaught continues as more and more ponies scale the walls. A stray bullet strikes Lt. Wicki in the chest, mortally wounding him. The Saddle Arabian cannon crews shifted their fire from the walls to the gates. It only takes two blasts from the cannons, before the gate comes crashing down. The Saddle Arabians continue to rain fire upon the fortress. Col. Wolmans is positioned close to the mortar batteries. Upon seeing the front gate being blown in, several lower officers and mortar crew members position themselves to halt the pony advancement through the gate, with their revolvers and rifles. Gunfire erupts from the gate and the mortar position. Men and ponies drop dead from the exchange. "Fill those holes in the line!" The Colonel orders. "Hold them ba-ACh!" He's cut off as bullet hits him in the neck. He falls to the ground clutching his neck. A nearby sergeant notices him and rushes up to him. "Colonel! Colonel!" The Sergeant yells as he applies pressure to the wound in attempt to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. Slowly Col. Wolmans' breathing slows and eventually stops. He dies there in the arms of the young sergeant. The Saddle Arabians have taken most of the walls and began firing down upon the human infantry inside. The remnants of the infantry has fallen back towards the center of the fort. One of the officers grab the shoulder of the young sergeant and pull him along to the rally point. "Come on lad, we still need ya." He said. Only a few hundred had made it. They were together in a square formation where the first line was kneeling and the second was standing. " Here they come, Boys!" Someone shouts. The front side of the square fires while the two sides move to face the coming enemy. Once the two lines were in position, they also opened fire. Dozens of ponies fell to the ground having been shot. Their attempts to stop the Saddle Arabian force seemed fruitless. As more Soldiers fell, the slimmer their outcome looked. Eventually, with only 23 soldiers left, the Deutschland survivors surrendered to the Saddle Arabians. An urgent telegram arrives in the Berliner Schloss (Berlin Palace). Sprinting down the hall, the royal telegraph operator carries a message from the border. Reaching the Kaiser's office, he knocks before being let in. "Mein Kaiser. I have an urgent message." He hands the Kaiser the telegram. He does a quick read over. His hands start to shake. "When?" The Kaiser manages. "From when it was sent, I'd say it is still going on." "Then our worst fears have been realized." The Kaiser says softly. "It is time to prepare for the coming war." > Chapter 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The news had spread like wildfire. It was one the cover of every newspaper. The people of Deutschland were outraged by the invasion. The people cried for war. One hour after learning of the invasion, Kaiser Faramund formally announced the declaration of war on the Saddle Arabians. Men flock by the hundreds to recruiting stations to help combat the invading force. The news even spread across the ocean to Equestria. Twilight Sparkle is eating her breakfast while preparing for classes at the School of Friendship, when the sound of something crashing into her window jolted her from her work. Looking up, she breathes a sigh of relief to see that it was only Derpy, the mail pony. The walleyed pegasus hands Twilight the morning paper. Derpy does a goofy salute, before taking off on her route, while crashing through another window on her way out. Twilight giggles to herself at the pony's antics before opening up the newspaper. In big bold letters written across the top were the words: WAR! Saddle Arabia To Invade Deutschland! Horror filled Twilights thoughts as she continued to read on. Early yesterday morning, along the border of Deutschland and Saddle Arabia, a ferocious battle took place. Believed to be caused by a border dispute between the two nations, resulted in the Saddle Arabians seizing control of a Deutsche fortress and the nearby village of Drachenstadt. It is currently unknown the number casualties sustained. The nation Deutschland is in an uproar. Later in that day, Kaiser Faramund addressed the Deutsche people saying. " Good people of Deutschland, earlier today, We were suddenly and deliberately attacked by an invasion force from Saddle Arabia. While I had hoped for peace between our two nations, this is an act that we cannot and will not allow to go without consequences......" The Princesses of Equestria have since announced their neutrality in the conflict. "Oh no. This isn't good." She says to herself as her mind drifts to three of her students who will not take the news too well. "What's not good, Twilight?" Spike says, entering the room while stuffing his face with a doughnut. She shows him the paper, and his eyes widen in shock, dropping the doughnut. "Yup, that's not good. What's going to happen? Shouldn't this be a friendship problem?" "I don't know, this really isn't a friendship problem, but a full country problem." Twilight says, trying to push those thoughts out of her head. The two quickly finish their breakfast and make their way to the school. Along the way, Twilight's thoughts continue to drift back to the article. 'What does this mean for Equestria? Will we not be friends with the humans anymore?' These thoughts continue to plague her mind until. "TWILIGHT!!" A raspy voice yells from above. Twilight looks up to find the source and sees Rainbow Dash flying straight towards her. Crashing into each other, Twilight rolls across the grounds, Rainbow Dash; however stands there with a look of horror on her face as she clutches a piece of paper. "Ugh! Rainbow Dash, what were yo-" Twilight is cut off as Rainbow jumps in. "Twilight, its horrible. Like the whole world is ending!" "Rainbow, I don't think the whole world is end. I mean the news was a bit of a shock." "A BIT of a shock!? Twilight. They're. Moving. The. Daring. Do. Conversation. To. Next. Month! Don't you see it it's horrible!" The athletic pony cries, shoving a flyer into Twilight's face. Twilight was taken aback by this. ' This whole time, she was talking about Daring Do?' Twilight says to herself. She thinks for a minute before saying." Rainbow have you not see the BIG news going around?" "Huh, oh yeah. That's pretty bad too." Twilight just face palms. (A/N Come with me......and you'll be.....in a world where I bastardized the German language.) The students, enrolled at the School of Friendship, were making their way to the cafeteria for breakfast. Among the students, are three humans. One of the humans grabs a newspaper off a large stack, left for the students, and makes his way to the food line. Letting out a yawn, he runs his hand through his brown hair before grabbing a couple of bread rolls and jelly. "Good morning, Peter." A cheery voice said behind him, causing him to turn around. He came face to face with Silverstream. "Oh Guten Morgen, Silverstream." Peter said, greeting the hippogriff. He mentally groans at his use of Deutsche, as he was supposed to be working on his Equestrian. 'Dummkoph, you know she can hardly understand Deutsche.' "Are you ready for classes today!" She exclaims, "Oh I can't wait for Professor Fluttershy's kindness class. Are you excited?" "Nein, too early in the morning to be thinking about classes." He says groggily while reaching for an apple. Grabbing one for himself, he grabs another one and offers it to Silverstream. "Apfel?" She pauses for a moment processing what he said, before graciously accepting it. They continue on their way, getting a few other food items before settling at their table. He pulls the chair out for Silverstream because it is the gentleman thing to do, also because he has secret crush on her. A crush that his two other human friends know about. "Guten Morgen, ihr zwei liebt Vögel." ( Good morning, you two love birds) A voice jokingly says from in between Peter and Silverstream. Turning to address the voice, Peter finds a blonde boy around his age. His name is Erik. "Hör auf, Erik. Was ist, wenn sie dich hört?" (Knock it off, Erik. What if she hears you) He says, slightly annoyed and embarrassed. The others at the table turn to the two in confusion, since they don't know Deutsche. Smolder and the other human named Michael grin in understanding what Erik said. Looking over at Michael and Smolder he realizes something. "Komm schon, du auch." (Come on you too.) Peter complains. "Verdammt, ich habe vergessen, dass die meisten Drachen Tonspeak Deutsch lernen." (Damn it, I forgot most dragons learn to speak Deutsche) "Wait, what did he say?" Ocellus asks. Michael turns to her, trying to save his friend 's embarrassment, and tells her it's better left alone. "Anyways." Erik says taking his seat on the other side of Peter." Did you- ooh you did get one!" He exclaims take in the newspaper from under Peters tray and turning straight to the entertainment section. Pulling out a pencil from his pocket he starts the crossword section. The others giggle at his antics, however something on the front page grabs Michaels attention. "What's that?" He says while grabbing the page from Erik. Looking it over for a minute, he freezes up." What? No, this can't be. No, no." Tears begin to well up in his eyes. His hands begin to tremble. His friends grow worried. "Michael? Michael, what's wrong?" Sandbar asks. The others look towards Michael for an answer. Michael drops the paper and buries his face in his hands. "I can't." He mutters. I can't read it anymore." Curiosity gets the better of them, and Ocellus takes to paper. She clears her throats and begins to read. "War. Saddle Arabia to invade Deutschland. Ye-" "Wait What!" Erik yells, cutting Ocellus off. "Early yesterday morning, along the border of Deutschland and Saddle Arabia, a ferocious battle took place. Believed to be caused by a border dispute between the two nations, resulted in the Saddle Arabians seizing control of a Deutsche fortress and the nearby village of Drachenstadt." A somber silence fills the table. The group takes notice of how Michael buries his face deeper in his hands at the mention of name of the town. Trying to comfort him, Yona pats him on the shoulder. "Don't worry Michael," Erik begins." I'm sure that we'll push the Saddle Arabians out of the Fatherland." "My father." He mumbles to himself. "My father was stationed at that fort. He was the Colonel in command." His slowly filling with anger." He was supposed to be moving next month to the coast, to lübeck. He should be alive! I-I should have been there instead!" The group doesn't know how to react. The normally quiet, artist human is ranting how he should be in the army." Look it says that 'it's a act that we cannot and will not allow to go without consequences.'" "Michael, maybe you should-." "No! I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing. Our country, no our Home was attacked!" With that he stands and starts heading to the door. "Tell the professors that I won't be in class. Just say I'm sick or something." He says back to them, before leaving. The day goes on as normal, minus Michael not being in class. Of course, the gossip between the student body is talk of the invasion. Twilight makes an attempt to not have the invasion discussed in class, but it doesn't stop it in the halls. The gossip, however is not good for one mare from Saddle Arabia named, Alev. She is the recipient of several glares from the students, mostly from Erik. Alev, on her part only just moved to Ponyville with her family a few months before the school open. As the school day comes to a close, the students return to their respective dorms. As the two humans walk into their room, they are greeted by the sight of Michael packing his suitcase. "Michael," Peter begins." We're going to head to Sugarcube corner. Erik wants some cookies. We thought- eh what are you doing." Michael stops what he's doing and greets his roommates. "Ah, I'm glad you're here. I've been up here all day, and I've had time to think about it. I think the three of us should head back home and held fight off the Saddle Arabians." "WHAT!" Both Peter and Erik yell in unison. "Come on, think about it. That is our home, and our home is calling us in its time of need. I've already made up my mind. I'm leaving in the morning. You two are welcome to join me. Actually I was hoping that we would all serve together." They all stop for a moment. He makes a good point. Deutschland is their home. "There's just one problem." Peter says breaking the silence. "There's no way my father will let me join the army. You should have seen him when my brother, Thomas joined the Kaiserliche Marine. He kicked him out of the house until he was assigned to his ship." "Don't worry. Just enlist when we get back, before you stop at home." Michael explains. "You've got my word. I won't let anything happen to you." Peter stops for a moment, formulating a response. "That could work, but how will we explain it to the professors or even Headmare Twilight. I don't think that they'd be too thrilled with having three of their students leaving a school of friendship to go fight in a war." Erik reasoned. He is right. How will they explain it. Michael goes silent for minute. He lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I had hoped that you two would go with me, but that decision is up to you. You two do what you want. I've made up my mind, and I'm leaving tomorrow morning. The first train heading to Manehattan is mine." With that, Michael grabs his hat and starts to walk out, before stopping at the door." Are we going?" "Where?" A confused Erik asks. "To Sugarcube Corner. I thought you two wanted to go." Peter face palms." Right, sorry. You just threw us off there." Erik grabs some bits, and his hat. The trio then heads out towards Ponyville. The trip to Sugarcube Corner is awkwardly quiet, as the only one talking is Michael. Peter tries to add to the one sided conversation, but his mind keeps drifting back to what Michael said in the room. 'How would I tell father. This is the right thing to do. No, that wouldn't work. Maybe, this is my home and I'll be damned if I let an invader conquer us.' Eventually the trio arrive at their destination, where they are greeted by a certain energetic pink pony. Upon seeing the trio, Pinkie Pie lets out a huge gasp. "IT'S MY FAVORITE TRIO OF HUMAN STUDENTS!" She exclaims. "We're the only human trio at the school." Michael says in confusion. "Probably the only humans she knows."Erik whispers to Peter, causing him to chuckle slightly. She went on to say how she knows lots more humans, after she somehow heard Erik's comment. 'How the hell did she hear me?' "Eh, it's just hunch." Pinkie nonchalantly explains. This only confuses Erik more as she somehow read his mind. 'What the fuck?' Erik says to himself 'You shouldn't use words like that, Erik.' Pinkie says, somehow in his mind. "Anyways," Michael interrupts to bring the conversation back." we came for an order of cookies and three strudels." Pinkie does a goofy salute before disappearing in a cloud of dust. A few minutes later she zips to the counter with the finished desserts. Deciding not to question how she made it all in a few minutes, the trio grab a nearby table and get to work on their food. That nigh, Peter couldn't sleep. His mind kept racing back to what all occurred during the day. The night is spent tossing and turning in his bed. After a few sleepless hours of doing this, he gives up. Throwing the blankets off of him he glances at the clock in the corner of the room. The moonlight is lighting up the clock face just enough to see the time. '3:48 in the morning. Great.' He thinks to himself. He's torn from his thoughts by the sound of the door closing. Glancing over to Michael's bed, he saw it was empty. When he rolls over to try a fall back asleep, he takes a peak at Erik's bed. It too was empty. Michael sat alone at the train station. His luggage bag sat in front of him. Further down the platform, a few tired looking ponies sat waiting for the train. Pulling out his pocket watch, he checks the time. "It's only 4:30. Sill got another half an hour." Michael stops what he's doing, when he hears footsteps approaching. Turning to face the noise, a slight smile forms on his tired face. "I knew you guys would come." He says to Erik and Peter, both carrying their own luggage bag. "Well we've got about half an hour till the train gets here. Now what?" Erik asks. > Chapter 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Michael was sleeping peacefully, until he felt a hand shake him on the shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes to see woke him, he is met with the sight of Erik shaking him. Peter is busy getting their luggage off of the overhead rack. "Wake up. We'll be pulling into the station soon." Erik says. Michael gives a quick stretch, before reaching out for his bag. "12:45." Erik comments looking down at his watch" We should have time to get a quick lunch before we board the ship." The others nod in agreement. "Ja, I don't know about you two, but I would love one of those sandwiches they have by the harbor." Peter chimes in. Again the other two nod in agreement. They look out the window of their cabin as the train pulls into the Manehattan station. The car lurches forward as the train comes to a stop. Grabbing their luggage, the trio make for the door onto the chaotic station platform. The crowds of ponies traveling to and from the many trains amazes the three humans. "Wow, I've been in Ponyville for so long, I've forgotten what true city life is like." Michael remarks as a mare accidentally bumps into him. Erik nods in agreement. "Ja me too, though my city isn't that big." "Really? You know, I don't think I ever asked you where you're from?" Peter mentions as he takes in the sights of the elegant station. The glass roof allows sunlight to pour in, making for a natural lit building. "Seriously?" Erik says, turning to his two friends. "You've known me for almost four months and you never asked what town I'm from." He sighs" I'm from Stralsund." Two 'oh's ' come as a reply. Pushing that fact back, they head for an information booth inside the station to grab a map of the city. Upon locating the information booth, Erik pays the 2 bits for a map and heads back over to Michael and Peter. "Ok, so we're here at Grand Saddle Station. We need to go here at pier-90, for the ship,that will take us home." Erik says, tracing his finger along the map. Gathering up their suitcases, they leave the station. The trio is pushed along, out the elegant doors of Grand Saddle Station to the busy streets of Manehattan. Trying to orient themselves on the map, they decide to look for landmarks to determine which way to go. "Ok so," Peter starts. He looks around, trying to orient himself on the map." Grand Saddle Station and the Manelife building are behind us. That means we're facing south. Pier-90 is west of here." As they're about to start their journey, Michael comes up with an idea. "Wait, guys shouldn't we just call for a carriage to take us over there?" Michael slings his bag over his shoulder, before walking to the side of the road. He gives out a whistle and a wave of his arm to the passing carriages. Moments later, a dark green carriage stops in front of him. A short beige colored unicorn peers over the side at him "Where ya headin' lad?" He asks. Michael motions for Erik and Peter to join him. "We're on our way to the piers. Pier-90 to be exact." Michael answers. The Coachpony tells them to get in. After placing their luggage in a cage on the back, they climb aboard the carriage. The ride was mostly quiet, as the trio took in the sights of the city. They passed by several iconic places including Bridleway and the wax museum. Hundreds of ponies, walking down the streets, go about their busy lives. Rounding the bend, the carriage then follows up a road running parallel to the river. Several ships lined the piers. Eventually, after a forty six minute ride, the carriage stopped out front of pier-90. Paying the fee and thanking the driver, the trio heads over to buy tickets. There is a small line, about five families, outside the ticket window. It takes about twenty minutes for the trio to reach the window, where they are greeted by teal mare. Peter steps forward to get the tickets. "Three passes to Deutschland, please." He says with a smile. The mare looks up at him, before speaking. "Three tickets, that's thirty bits each. Your total is ninety bits." Peter hands over the money in exchange for three fold pieces of paper. He hands two of them to Michael and Erik. "I would hurry if I were you." The mare says, causing the trio to face her." That ship leaves for Deutschland in one hour." Quickly gathering their belongings, they make their way down the pier to the gangway. There, they got a good look at their ship.It has a Long black hull with a white superstructure. A single yellow smokestack rose from the center, belching out thick black smoke. Two masts sat on the bow and stern. "This must be it." Erik mutters. The other two turn and look at him." What?" Michael is quick with a slap on the back of the head." Of course this is it! Why else would we be standing here in front of a ship." Peter only facepalms. “Anyway, let's get on board, maybe they'll still be serving lunch.” A solemn look adored Peter’s face at the realization that they won't be eating in the city. Walking down the pier, they eventually come to the gangway. They all pause for a split second. They are all thinking the same thing, but not speaking it. ‘No going back now.’ With that they board the ship, and begin to settle into their cabin for the four day journey across the ocean. Their room was a small one window cabin. A set of bunk beds adored either side of the room. “So, now what?” Peter asks, setting his bag on the extra bed. Erik looks up from his bed towards Peter. “Lunch.” He says getting up from his bunk. Satisfied with that answer, the trio then heads down the hall towards the cafeteria in the hopes to satisfy their hunger. The School of Friendship is in a panic. Both students and staff are looking for three certain students that disappeared in the middle of the night. It didn't help that nobody noticed they were missing until they were two class periods into the day. The only way anyone knew they were gone, was when Sandbar volunteered to check on them. Upon entering the three humans’ dorm, he was met with nothing. He reported this to Headmaster Twilight, who blew it into a full blown investigation. After finding no evidence of the trio in neither Ponyville nor the school, Twilight decides to head to their dorm room to search for clues. Upon entering the room, she is met with an empty room. Nothing seems to be out of place, until she notices something odd on the desk that could be overlooked. Stuffed underneath a desk lamp is a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it reveals a rough message that looks hastily written. To whoever finds this letter, I hope you find it in good condition. If you are reading this, then we are already on our way to Deutschland. We wish we could have given a proper goodbye. We appreciate what you have taught us here, and we thank you for the opportunity to be at this school. Please know that we hold nothing against you or your teachings. You made us feel at home when we first arrived in Ponyville, and you all have become trustworthy friends. While our four months here may have been short, we have collected a lifetime of memories that we will always cherish. We accept your teachings and beliefs, however we strongly believe that this is our right to defend our homeland from a foreign invasion. Best wishes and farewell, Your three Deutsche students Carefully setting down the letter, several emotions fill Twilight’s mind. ‘They're gone. What if they have to fight? What if they're killed?’ Her mind is racing faster than one of Rainbow Dash’s sonic rainboom. Her breathing becomes rapid.Tears begin to well up in her eyes at the thought of losing three of her students. “Twilight, are you ok?” A voice calls from behind her causing her to slightly jump. Turning around, twilight is met with the sight of Starlight Glimmer. Starlight has a look of worry on her face. “Starlight, it's terrible. They're gone.” “Yeah, we're still trying to find them.” “No. Gone as in, going back to Deutschland!” Cries Twilight, showing Starlight the letter. Starlight flinches back from the sudden outburst. Unsure of what to say, she simply pulls Twilight in for a hug. “Don't worry, Twilight. Everything will be fine. Hopefully this whole ordeal will settle itself out.” Starlight says, trying to calm the crying alicorn.” Who knows, maybe it will all be over by Hearth’s Warming.” She says with a shrug. “THAT’S WHAT THEY ALWAYS SAY!” Twilight exclaims. Taking a deep breath, Twilight makes an attempt to regain her composure. “We just have to look on the bright side of things. We know where they are.” Looking back down at the letter in her hands.” Perhaps we should tell the students that at least we know where they are?” The following days after the initial invasion and capture of Fort Little Rock, the Deutsche military was on the move. The Army of Southern Deutschland, 38,000 men, make their way south from Munich to stop the Saddle Arabian forces. Leading them is General Wolfgang Niederman. He's an older general from Hamburg, where he attended the Preußische Hauptkadettenanstalt (Main Prussian Cadet Institute). Thanks to his education, he became a brilliant strategist. The Saddle Arabians spread their forces, in an arc formation, out from their captured fortress. This move allowed them to capture several small towns along the border. It is an attempt to force the Deutsche to spread their forces thin. Small skirmishes have broken out following the series of attacks in the towns between the local garrison and militia versus the pony forces. The result leaves hundreds dead and wounded. When word reaches General Niederman of the enemy movements, he devises a plan. He plans to have a quarter of his army to attack to the front, under the command of General Francis Meulle, while the rest of his army closes in on the side. It's a bold move, but he is hoping that his men can halt the Arabian advances north, until reinforcements arrive from Berlin. Following the movements of the enemy he plans to meet the enemy at their next target of Penzberg. It will be another day's march until either army reaches the town. Deciding to get a head start in the ponies, General Niederman orders his dragoons ahead into town; in order to secure a strong position. Two brigades, totaling to 6,000 men, of Deutsche Dragoons ride ahead from the army. They arrive late in the day (around 5:00) in the outskirts of Penzberg. At first the townspeople are worried and confused about the sudden arrival of the military. Not wanting any civilians to be in the crossfire, the commanding officer, Brigadier General Windstar, orders the evacuation of Penzberg. General Windstar stuck out from his fellow officers. While they are all human, he is a teal unicorn. He is a young general, hoping to make a name for himself. His ancestors first came to Deutschland back during the Equestrian Civil War. The two brigades move quietly through an orchard in order to mask their movements. Finding the edge into an open field. General Windstar and several other officers notice movement through a tree line on the other side of the field. Pulling out his binoculars, General Windstar spots the enemy. “That's infantry alright. Two or three brigades, but I don't see any cavalry though.” He lowers the binoculars and runs a hand through his silver mane.” Strange, they send their army this far into our land without the aid of cavalry.” “I don't like it, sir.” One of the officers comments. “What do you make of it?” “They're heading this way.” “Sir?” “That's too big to be a raiding party. That's their main body. There's power behind that.” “Sir, if you want to fight them here, we've got good ground here. Probably the best damn ground we've seen all day. “They're most likely going to set up camp on the other side of those trees.” General Windstar says, while looking back down his binoculars.” They will wait until morning to launch their attack, where we'll be waiting for them.” He turns to face his other officers. “We'll move both brigades into town. That'll make the good people happy. Let's move.” With that General Windstar moved his two brigades into the town of Penzberg. They plan to fortify the southern half of the town where the ponies will be attacking from. Spotting a steeple on top of the town hall, he plans to use it as a lookout point over the battle. Later in the evening, as the sun is beginning to set, General Windstar and another couple of officers walk out to where they plan on having their men placed. General Windstar looks out over the field and sighs. “You know what's going to happen here tomorrow morning?” “Sir?” He turns back towards his other two officers. “The whole damn saddler army is gonna be here. They'll move in through the town and occupy the hills behind us. Then, when our boys arrive. They'll already have the high ground. There'll be the Devil to pay.” He releases a sigh. “We have 6,000 men. They'll have an army coming in force. There could be 40,000 coming up that road tomorrow. If we hold this ridge for a couple of hours, we can keep them away. We can block that road, until our main body gets here. We can deprive the enemy of the high ground. “The boys are ready for a brawl, Sir. No doubt.” One of the officers mentions “We'll force the ponies to deploy. That's a narrow road, they'll be coming down. Is Calef's battery ready yet?” “His six guns are deploying now, Sir.” “Post the cannons here, along this road.” He says, pointing to the road a little ways behind them. Another officer rides up towards the group. “Sir.” He says with a salute. “My scouts just reported, the whole Saddle Arabian Army is heading this way. They'll be here by morning.” General Windstar pauses for a moment. “We'll hold here in the morning, long enough for Wilhelm and the infantry to move in. They'll strike us at dawn, I believe we can hold ‘em for a few hours. Just enough for Wilhelm to get here.” “Hell, General, we can hold them all the livelong day.” “Alright, Gentleman. Keep a clear eye. Let's get posted.” Before turning for the night, General Windstar sent out a message to the infantry’s location to alert them of his position. Here's a map to show you the location of Deutschland and Saddle Arabia. This is east of Equestria, across an ocean. > Chapter 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Penzberg, Deutschland May 11th, 8:15 am Celestia’s sun is barely peeking above the treeline. A fine morning mist settles across the field. All and all, it is a beautiful morning. Stepping outside into the cool breeze, General Windstar looks around towards town. The vacant streets send an eerie shiver down his spine, causing him to take a drink from his coffee. Turning towards his men’s camp, he notices that they are making ready for the coming battle. Taking a deep breath, he starts to make his way to the steeple where he plans to view the battle. His stops in his tracks when several cracks of musket fire echo from the trees. A minute later his two brigades run past him towards their position. One of his officers, a captain, rides up to him, pulling Windstar’s horse with him. The captain's name is Captain Hans Becker, one of the captains from the night before. “Sir.” He says with a salute. “The Saddlers are coming! They just tripped the pickets!” Mounting his horse, General Windstar follows his men to the field. He positions his men along a stone wall. Glancing behind him, he takes note of the cannon crews loading their 12 pound howitzers. Running down the road across the field were his scouts, retreating back to his lines. Behind them another fifty yards was a column of Arabian soldiers. Once the scouts were at a safe distance, the cannons opened fire. The four kilogram shells slammed into the Arabian lines. One shell lands in front of the column killing six infantrymen. Another shell takes out a section of fencing along the road allowing the infantry to move into the field, off the narrow road. Once in the open, the Arabian are able to move into their firing lines. As the Saddler’s return fire, the dismounted dragoons continue to send seemingly never ending fire with their repeaters. The howitzers blow massive holes through the Arabian lines, taking out as many as four at a time. Seeing that the fighting is starting, General Windstar heads to his steeple for a better vantage point. Climbing the long staircase to the steeple, he is greeted by a couple of his generals. The thunderous blasts from the cannons can still be plainly heard from his spot. Pulling out his binoculars, he looks out over the battlefield. “Half a brigade to the southwest, and another half to the south.” He pauses for a moment. “They're coming at me with one brigade? We've got the best damn ground around. They must be up to something, but they're converging on one spot.” He scratches at his chin as he thinks. Windstar watches as a howitzer shell explodes a few feet above some Arabian soldiers, raining hot shrapnel into the line. Moving his view back to the Arabian treeline. He spots several 12 pound cannons pointed towards his men. “Shit!” He says under his breath. “What is it, Sir?” One of the generals asked. “They've brought in their damn cannons.” Windstar answers. He watches as the cannons exchange fire. On the ground, Captain Becker oversees the men. Ducking his head, to avoid getting it taken off, he watches in horror as a cannonball slams into the axle of a howitzer behind him. Splinters and shrapnel embeds itself into the unfortunate crew. Officers and other nearby soldiers do their best to help drag the unfortunate cannon crew to safety as they call for a field surgeon. Some of the men are dragged away clutching their wounds. Others lay limp and unmoving. The Captain’s eyes drift across the scene, until they land on one from the crew. A boy, of about 19, lay on the ground still. His eyes are completely devoid of life. He notices blood flowing down from his neck where a large gash is. The sight forces the Captain to look away, as sadness begins to fill up in him. A large volley of gunfire brings his attention back to the battle. After another hour of fighting, the wavering Arabian brigade orders a withdrawal, as another brigade begins its attempt to crush the Deutsche defense. The dragoons take the brief break to regroup and fill the holes in their line. As the Deutsche waits for the next enemy brigade, General Windstar rides up to the line. Riding up to Captain Becker, the general notices a look of grief in his eyes. “Captain, are you alright?” He asks. “Fine, Sir.” He answers with a quick salute. “How are we doing?” “Not bad, Sir. Not bad at all.” Captain Becker says proudly. “We got them out in the open and they came right to us. We're figuring at least 8,000 in this division.” “Hmm. It will take them a while to get all of them in line. Mostly likely all morning.” “The point is, Sir, is when General Wilhelm gets here, he won't have his full army. Most likely a couple of brigades. The Saddlers will be here this afternoon with everything they've got.” Captain Becker sighs. “Now then, Sir, what shall you have me do now?” “Well, the Arabians will be back in a little bit. If they have any brains, they'll know they're looking at least a brigade in front of them. They won't want to wait for their whole division to get in line. They're still trying to beat our infantry here. They won't need a whole division against us though.” He pauses for a second. “Has Colonel Elmwood reported anything to the west?” “Nothing, Sir. Everything has been here, in the south.” “Hmm, I'll have him leave his position, move alongside your men. It'll strengthen our lines.” He chuckles slightly. “That way those Saddlers will run into two brigades, instead of one. That’ll keep them busy till Wilhelm gets here.” “Very good, Sir.” Captain Becker says with a smile. General Windstar rides off to Colonel Elmwood’s location, to reposition his position. Approaching the lime green earth pony, Windstar orders him to position himself alongside Captain Becker’s men. With that, General Windstar returns to his lookout. Another two hours of fighting have passed and Windstar is getting worried. It is almost one in the afternoon and there is still no sign of Wilhelm. Ammunition for both cannons and rifles are starting to run low. Casualties are steadily increasing. Officers yell to fill the holes in the lines as cannons and gunfire drown them out. The Saddle Arabian army was surprised to see another brigade in front of them, however they soon got over it and kept their advance. General Windstar is getting desperate. He decides to head back down towards the field. He pulls out his pocket watch to check the time “12:47. Damn it Wilhelm. Where the hell are you?” He huffs. As he's about to head down, something in his mind tells him to search for Wilhelm one last time. Sighing, he pulls up his binoculars and looks out. Out in the distance several figures are riding up on horseback. One is carrying a Deutschland flag. Further behind them is a column of infantry. Tears begin to well up in his eyes at the sight of reinforcements. Heading down to greet General Wilhelm and his 10,000 men, Windstar informs Wilhelm of his situation. Wilhelm orders his men to have four regiments move to the sides of the Arabian position. Another three regiments are to strengthen the center. His plan is to have the side continue to squeeze the Arabian lines together, in order to trap them in a bowl of musket fire. All Windstar’s men have to do is to hold out until the infantry is in position. Upon reaching the central front, the infantry reinforcements quickly take up positions alongside Windstar's men. The dragoons breathe a sigh of relief by the arrival of the infantry. As the new Saddler brigade begins its advance in the Deutsche position, they are met with a torrent of musket fire. The arrival of the infantry allows some of the dragoons to step back and replenish their ammunition. General Windstar and General Wilhelm view the battle unfold from a distance. They watch as an enemy limber chest explodes behind one of the Arabian cannons. “Looks like you and your boys put up a good fight.” Wilhelm states, turning towards Windstar. Windstar chuckles slightly at this comment. “That we did. Tell you what though, you couldn't have arrived at a better time.” Both Generals notice something that catches their eyes causing both of them to pull out their binoculars. “You see what I see?” Windstar asks. Wilhelm is quick with a reply. “Jawohl, they see my infantry with your boys. They're going to try and flank us.” He smirks. “Little do they know, they're walking into a trap.” “Tha-” He is cut off from a cannon blast nearby. “That they are, General.” As the Arabian army continues to push forward through the center, several regiments are diverted off to the left of the Deutsche position, in an attempt to flank the new infantry reinforcements. In order to flank the enemy, the Arabian army must cross through a small tree-lined stream. The first regiment lets out a battle cry and rushes across the stream and through the trees. Break through to the other side, the Arabians are met with a dark blue line slowly approaching them. The sunlight reflects off their bayonets creating a glare to the Arabians. The 4th and 16th infantry regiments of Deutschland halt their movements and take aim. A wall of smoke covers the infantry as the bullets strike down the enemy invaders. As the Deutsche infantry reloads, the Saddlers take aim. They unleash their own wave of musket fire, bringing down several dozen soldiers. The Deutsche infantry fires another wave of lead into the unfortunate Arabian lines. This time they begin to march forward again, forcing the Arabians back across the stream. The Saddlers take cover behind the thin treeline. Many still have to reload for the coming wave of Deutsche infantry. Just a minute later, the dark blue uniforms of the infantry appear on the opposite side of the stream. Again the two sides exchange fire, leaving hundreds dead on either side. As the Deutsche infantry continue its advances in the west, the 8th and 2nd infantry regiments push in from the east. Not having as much fighting, seeing as how the most of the enemy moved west, the two regiments were able to reach a good distance before being halted by the enemy. From their position, they could see the infantry regiments fighting in the center of the bowl. Their arrival takes the enemy completely by surprise. Reaching a good overlook over the center field, the two regiments take aim at the bulk of the enemy force. The Arabians, now taking fire from three sides, split their lines to combat the flank. This move however, leaves their central force the weakest. The Arabian counter attack to the east is easily cut down as they charge up the small hill. Load ‘em up boys! Load ‘em up!” The colonel shouts after releasing a barge of musket fire. The Arabians return fire killing and wounding several men. The two regiments however, remain unmoving. Across the battlefield, the two regiments in the west continue to push in. Soon the whole western half of the Arabian lines were clumped together into one mass. The two regiment colonels order their men to “Pick your targets!” Several volleys later, the four flanking regiments charge towards the now weakened counter attack. The two sides clash into a brutal hand to hand combat. Ultimately, the Deutsche infantry is the stronger force. The Saddlers’ counter attack flees into the center field. With the sides closing in on the Arabians and the field piling up with their dead, the General of the Saddle Arabian force reluctantly orders a withdrawal from Penzberg. After an intense seven hours of fighting, the firing comes to a close; resulting in a Deutsche victory. The thunder of the cannons are replaced with an eerie silence accompanied by the groans and screams of the wounded. The infantry help to gather the wounded bringing them into town for makeshift hospitals. A group of infantrymen, carrying wounded, approach a moderately sized home. A maid answers the door after they knock. “We would like to requisition this house to be used as a hospital. Is the owner of this home here?” “Jawohl, they're here. They took shelter in the cellar when the fighting started. Come inside.” She says, letting them step inside. The group walks inside, taking their hats and helmets off as they enter. They set up makeshift beds for the wounded. The dining room becomes the operating room. Two soldiers approach the family in the cellar to inform them of the situation. While in the cellar, the two soldiers grab several bottles of liquor, to be used as a painkiller. The surgeon does his best to get through the wounded. As he finishes patching up one soldier from the western flank, a new patient arrives. A sergeant from the dragoons. The soldiers who carried him in look up to him with hope. “Can you help him?” One asks. The surgeon takes a look at the man laying on the table. Sorrow wills his eyes. “This man was shot two times in the chest. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do for him.” A single tear falls from the sergeant on the table. The waves rock the steamship, as Peter rests himself against the side railing. Michael and Erik approach him, seeing as he's now several shades of green darker. “Peter, are you alright?” Erik asks. “How are you ok with these waves?” Peter asks. “Probably because I basically grew up on the water.” “What do you mean?” Michael questions as he moves to lean up against the railing. “Seriously, you guys know nothing about me!” He says under his breath. “Well my grandfather started a fishing company. It did fairly well, and when he died, my father inherited the company. Now my brother and I work with my father on our ship.” Michael lets out a stretch. “Well I know one thing. I can't wait until we get off this ship tomorrow and on to some dry land. Where are we docking again?” “Uh, I'm pretty sure we dock at Trier.” “Ah, ok. Then we take trains back to our hometowns.” “Ja.” The group stands in silence for a minute before Erik turns to leave, stating he's getting himself a drink. > Chapter 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Trier, Deutschland May 12, 8:45 am A cool morning fog rolls across the harbor as the great steamship moves to dock. The soft sounds of the coast are overwhelmed by the horn of the ship moving through the fog. The dock workers of Trier move about tying down the ship to port. Soon, the passengers make their way down the gangway onto dry land. “Ah, it's good to be home.” Michael exclaims as they walk down the pier. They pass by several shops getting ready to open for the day. Several fishermen were making ready their boats and nets for a day of fishing. “ You said it.” Peter agreed, practically kissing the pier. “It's going to be nice not constantly smelling the ocean.” The trio continue to make their way into the city before stopping at a large intersection. Michael notices a cable car making its way up the road towards them so they decide to wait and take that instead of walking. The cable car in fact reduces their travel as the small five row trolley rolls along down the cobblestone streets. They pass by several businesses that line the streets of Trier until they reach the city hall. Dismounting the cable car, the trio notices a rather large crowd gathered in front of the building. Several tables were set up with the Deutsche flag adorned on either side. A group of Deutsche soldiers and officers were gathered around the tables. Further back a band plays patriotic music as a long line of men stretched out from the tables of those waiting to enlist. Mothers, wives, and daughters say their goodbyes to their loved ones still waiting in line. Realizing that this is where they want to be, the trio take their place in the line. It takes them a whole hour to reach the tables. All that remains is one more person in front of them. When asked about his age, he hesitates before answering. “ I'm seventeen, sir.” “Hmm. Too young.” The officer says, while scratching his chin.” I need you to step out of line and have a birthday on your way to the back of the line.” Doing as instructed, the boy steps out of the line before turning and heading towards the back of the line. The officers shout for the next one. Michael is first, as he steps up. The captain sitting there sets a paper down in front of them. To the left of them sat a large stack of blank papers. To the right sat an even bigger stack of papers filled with signatures. Glancing down at the paper, the captain begins to explain it. “How old are you?” “19, sir.” Michael answers. The officer proceeds to slide a pen to Michael. “This paper makes you a private in the Deutsche military.” The captain details sternly.” Signing here will send you to the navy. Signing on this line will send you to the infantry. Please sign your name or make your mark.” Without hesitation, Michael signs his name for the infantry. Turning his attention back to the captain, he hands the paper back before being given a service cap. “You are to report to Fort Hammerpeak near Hamburg in one week. Next!” A few minutes later Erik then Peter finishes signing up. A cool silence surrounds the three, as they head towards the train station. None of them know what to say. “So….” Erik starts, breaking the silence.” I guess we'll be seeing each other at Fort Hammerpeak in a week. That'll be fun right?” “Yup.” Peter agrees. “I guess this is where we part ways to our separate towns.” “Right. See you guys in a week.” Michael states. With that the trio go their separate ways at the platforms. Hanover, Deutschland May 12,4:34 pm The large train lurches to a stop as it pulls into the Hanover station. The crowd of people make their way onto the station platform as another crowd makes their way into the cars. From the platforms, the crowds make their way to the streets. Among the crowd lies Peter. ‘It's good to be home.’ He says to himself. With a heavy sigh, he makes his way to the horse drawn carriages to find one to take him home. Eventually he finds one that isn't reserved. A light brown horse with white spots rests in front of a small dark blue carriage. Finding the driver, Peter hires him to take him home. It is a quiet ride for Peter. The only noises are the clopping of hooves against the roads and the turning of the carriage wheels. Glancing out the window, Peter is met with the familiar sights of his home town. Small shops of fresh produce are being packed up for the night as others make their way home for dinner. The steeple of the town courthouse rises above the buildings. As the sun begins its descent in the sky, the carriage stops in front of a farm just outside of town. As Peter begins to gather his luggage, he notices two kids playing in one of the open fields. Smiling, he makes his way towards the house. Two barns sit next to each other a little way from the house, almost blocking its view from the road. A small fence lines the gravel path towards the buildings. Halfway down the path, the two children notice Peter before running to him as fast as they can. “Peter! Peter!” They call out. “Your back!” Dropping his bag, he lowers himself down to embrace the hug that is coming. “Anna, Felix! I've missed you two!” The twins wrap Peter into a hug, talking faster than he can process. “Oh, look how big you two have gotten!” “We've missed you!” “What was it like in Equestria?” What's that funny looking hat you're wearing?” The last question catches Peter’s attention. Taking it off to show his two younger siblings, he explains. “It's the hat that the uh, the soldiers wear with their uniform.” Peter struggles a bit trying to word his explanation in a way two eight years old would understand. The twins' eyes fill with awe. “You're going to be a soldier?” They shout with excitement, before Felix’s face sours. “Does this mean you're going away again?” “Ja, but if it makes you feel any better, I have a whole week until I have to be in Hamburg.” Peter sighs. “You're going to Hamburg!” Anna shouts. Suddenly he feels his arms being pulled as his siblings attempt to drag him towards their farmhouse. Following behind them, Peter makes his way to the house. “Father, father, Peter’s home! Peter's home!” The twins cheer as they burst through the door. Peter meanwhile stops at the door and greets his dog sleeping on the front porch. A minute later heavy footsteps are heard from inside coming towards him. Looking up, Peter sees someone he hasn't exactly been looking forward to seeing. His father stops at the doorway studying Peter. His eyes drift over him before stopping at the hat. “What the hell are you wearing that for?” He says sternly. “You know how I felt about Thomas.” Peter takes a deep breath. “Father, I am doing what I believe is my duty to the Fatherland. I'm going to be a soldier in the infantry.” “Your duty to the Fatherland?” He retorts. “You're going to march off gloriously into battle, and heroically lead the army to victory? You think this is going to be some grand adventure? This is war you've gotten yourself into. There is no happy ending in war! Dammit, didn't you learn anything in Equestria at that school? “Father please listen.” “No you listen! I will not lose….”his father stops as he starts to choke up. Tears begin to well up in his eyes. “I don't want to lose both of you to this war, or any war for that matter. I don't want to see you in a box…..being lowered into the ground.” The look in Peter's eyes convinces him that there is no talking Peter out of leaving. He stops as he pulls Peter into a hug, catching Peter off guard. “Promise me you'll come back safe.” “I promise to come home safely, father. I will come back.” “When do you have to report?” His father asks, releasing his son from his grip. “The officer said to be in Hamburg in a week.” “It is good to see you, Peter, and it looks like you had a safe trip.” The two stand there quietly as his father’s gaze drifts back across him, before he finally invites Peter inside. Once inside, he makes his way to his old bedroom. Two beds rested inside. One belonging to Peter, the other used to belong to Thomas. Setting his bag by the door, Peter flops down onto his bed as the recent events of the past few days replay in his head. It is all too much for him. To think that a week ago, he was in another country. A week ago, his homeland was invaded. A week ago, he was nothing more than a student in Equestria. His head aches as it runs through it all. ‘It's all happening too fast.’ He says to himself. ‘This feels like a dream. That's it, it's all just a nightmare. I just need to wake up!’ The sudden sound of knocking pulls him from his thoughts. Sitting up, he sees his other sister standing at the doorway. “Yes, Maria?” He asks. “Father says to wash up for dinner.” She turns to leave, but Peter calls out to her “Maria, wait.” She stops and turns back to him. “Do you think I made the right choice?” “What, about joining the military?” He nods. “Well it's not my place to judge or tell you what you should do with your life, since well, you are older than me. I believe that if you truly believe that this is the right way, then you should follow it through.” Peter sighs. “Thanks, Maria.” “Now come on. Father made a pork roast.”At dinner, Peter spends his time telling his family of his time in Equestria. He tells them of the friends that he made, and told them about Michael and Erik. He tells them how the three of them decided to enlist with each other. That night, Peter settles into bed as the past events continue to replay through his mind. In the days following the heroic defense at Penzberg, two divisions, 22,000 strong, were transported down to the southern border. Commanding them is Major General Thomas Kleist. Their goal is to meet up General Niederman’s army and further strengthen the Deutsche position. Among the brigades that are deployed south, is the famed pony brigade of Deutschland. Leading the brigade is Brigadier General Smokey McColt, an earth pony born in Equestria who later moved to Deutschland shortly after the return of Princess Luna. The two divisions currently are making their way to Munich by train. From there, they plan to split the Arabian line in half. General Niederman’s forces are to push east in order to surround the majority of the invasion force. Once the enemy is destroyed, General Niederman's army will move south across the border into Saddle Arabia. General Kleist’s men will travel east to combat the remainder of the invasion forces. All General Niederman needs to do is to hold out until reinforcements arrive. Since the battle of Penzberg, the Arabian army has retreated south, making their movements closer to the border; with General Wilhelm’s army close behind. Several small skirmishes break out, however nothing too major. Deutschland countryside May 12, 2:30 pm The long train convoy chugs along the tracks. Riding inside amongst the other 22,000, sits a light blue unicorn named Corporal Blauer Himmel. His musket rests next to him as he scribbles down his thoughts into a small journal he brought with him. A small pipe clenched tightly in his teeth softly releases smoke in the cabin. Running a hand through his silver mane, he gazes over the rest of the Pony Brigade. Some are playing cards with those sitting next to them. Others are just talking or telling stories of home. ‘They're all like me.’ He says to himself. ‘All of us volunteered for this. Now we become something greater, for our families and the Fatherland.’ Finishing up writing in his journal. He puts it away before joining a card game with the ponies next to him. Sharing a seat with him is his pegasus friend, Windtalker. His dark mane rests underneath his hat, as it contradicts with his light colored fur. “Hey, Himmel. Are you finally joining?” He asks. “Ja. Deal me in.” The group continues to play as the train continues its way towards the war. > Chapter 6 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fort Hammerpeak, Hamburg, Deutschland May 19, 8:56 am “Achtung!” A line of newly enlisted men snap to attention. Among the men, stand Peter, Erik, and Michael. Two men, a colonel and a lieutenant colonel approach. The two seem to be talking to each other. “These are the new recruits?” The colonel asks, glancing over the men. It is obvious that these men are far from ready for combat. Some looked like they have been living off the land their entire lives. A couple of others look as though they can be snapped like a twig. The lieutenant colonel gives a short yes. Looking back towards the men, he sighs. “Well, that's lovely.” The colonel walks forward to address the new recruits. “At ease.” The men relax. “My name is Colonel Werner Lehmann. I will be the commanding officer of this fine regiment.” He says casting his gaze across his men, with his piercing blue eyes. As he passes in front of the trio, Peter is able to get a better look at his new colonel. Short chestnut brown hair rests under his officer's cap. A well trimmed mustache also adores his face, while a distinct scar runs across his left cheek, stopping just below his eye. “Men of the 38th Rhineland, I am honored by your enthusiasm, that you have volunteered for service to the Fatherland. You all come from different backgrounds, but you're all here for the same purpose; to defend the Fatherland. Many of you are most likely excellent marksmen, from fur trading or hunting game. Some of you are stronger than others from working in labor or farming, however good shooting and strength alone does not make a good soldier! That requires discipline. I have noticed that many of you are socializing with your superior officers. That will stop now. An officer’ order is to be followed thoroughly and without question or hesitation. This regiment must learn to move as one man, otherwise we will all be killed. These next few weeks will be cruel and unforgiving, but if you follow my command, and do as you are told. You will see till the end. Dismissed!” With that, the recruits headed off to their first set of drills and practices. They started off marching in columns. Things started off slow, letting the men get accustomed to marching in formation. They learn how to properly face, dress the line and move as one. The first several times, the men struggle to move together at the same pace. Some of them struggle with holding a tight line. Eventually though, the men start to get the hang of it. After about an hour of company drills, the whole regiment comes together for regimental drills and parade marching. For the trio, it is truly a different feeling, marching along with the entire regiment . Several more hours of marching later, they stop for lunch. “I don't think I've ever marched that much in one morning.” Erik comments, as the trio moves along the line for lunch. “If I wanted to do this much walking, I could've just stayed at my farm.” Peter complains, as he receives a slice of pork on his tin plate “Well, you two better get used to it.” Michael reassures. “It's only going to get harder from here.” “Well, I heard we're having rifle training after lunch.” Comments Peter. The group migrates to one of the long tables in the mess hall. Weaving through the mass of other recruits, they arrive at a table with the rest of their company. Many of the men are around the same age as the trio, making them easy to get along with. “I can't wait until we get out of here!” They hear one recruit exclaim.” I’m fixing to get me a whole bridge of Saddlers myself.” The others around him share a laugh with him. The laughter is interrupted by a fork slamming into the table. “I'll get them all with my bayonet.” “Sure, Arman. We'll save all them Saddlers just for you.” Glancing down the table. Michael looks towards the group. A boy, presumably Arman, sits. He looks no older than them. Two things were noticeable. One is that his group of friends are mostly ponies, and that he was almost a head shorter than his group. He has thick dark brown hair reaching down just above his ears. He slightly groans in annoyance as one of his friends roughs his hair. “Well someone's a little eager.” Erik jokes. Michael turns his attention back towards his friends. “Ha, you could say that.” He glances back towards Arman. “Though, I'm not sure how someone could be eager about marching off to war.” “Well look who's talking, since you're the one who got us here.” Erik says with a smirk. “No, no he’s got a point.” Peter says, deciding to jump in. “We were more for patriotism, he's…...just, he just wants to fight.” The other two nod in agreement before turning back towards their lunch. “Right Shoulder Arms!” A company of infantrymen snap to the correct position. Two ranks of men stand as still as they can. Their rifles rest on their shoulders, awaiting the next command from the captain. “Left Shoulder Arms!” At the shout of ‘Arms’, the men swap shoulders. Though somewhat clunky, the men are able to complete the order. “Very good.” Colonel Lehmann comments pacing down the ranks “Parade rest!” Instantly the men bring their rifles to their sides, gripping the barrel. “The men learn fast, Captain.” Colonel Lehmann remarks. The chubby captain turns to address the colonel. “But these maneuvers must be practiced over and over. I want these men to be able to do these movements in their sleep. For now, take them to the range for target practice and speed reloading. Maybe even give them some bayonet training. That is all.” With that, Colonel Lehmann makes his way off to inspect another company. “Company, right shoulder arms!” The company snaps to the position. “Forward, march!” The sound of foot falls with the area as the company makes its way towards the shooting range. The company commander takes the lead so as to move in the right direction. He had introduced himself once the company was assembled in the morning. His name is Captain Alexander Meyer. Streaks of silver run through his dark hair, as a sign of age. Despite his age, however he does his absolute best to be an example for his men. His boots are shined to match that of a mirror. The buttons and belt-buckle are polished up and a cockatrice feather is stuffed into the visor strap of his officer's cap. The company arrives at the shooting range where several straw figures stand on the opposite side. They gather around, muskets kept at their sides, and wait for further instructions. “Now then, Gentlemen, as the Colonel said earlier this morning, most of you have shooting experience. We need to teach you all to fire in volleys. The average soldier, across Equus, can fire his weapon three times a minute. The Deutsche Musketeers are expected to be able to fire their weapons six times a minute. To achieve, you will learn a system called loading in-nine times. Now, I need a volunteer.” Several hands shoot up, before Captain Meyer sets his sights on one. “Corporal Wilkins, step forward.” A young boy, who looks only a few years older than the trio, steps up next to the captain. “Corporal, loading in-nine times, demonstrate. Say your weapon has just been fired. One removes the cartridge from the cartridge box. Two place the cartridge between teeth. Three tear the paper open. Four pour powder down the barrel and charge the cartridge.” Following the captain’s order, the corporal pours in the gunpowder and breaks open the cartridge in the barrel allowing the bullet to rest at the top. “Five remove the ramrod. Six ram the bullet down and return ramrod. Seven half cock the hammer. Eight remove the old cap, replacing it with a new cap. Nine shoulder arms.” Corporal Wilkins struggles some when replacing the firing cap, but eventually gets one on. He finishes by returning his rifle to his shoulder. “That's a lot to remember.” Erik whispers. “And we have to do that six times in a minute?” “I don't think I can even do that three times a minute.” Another recruit whispers back. “Now then, gentlemen, these actions must be practiced to the point where they become second nature to you. The reason being is that we will be under fire when we need to reload. The fast you can reload, the more times the enemy has to brace for incoming fire. Now if all of you would load your rifles now, we will test your accuracy.” Following the motions that they just watched, the whole company proceeds to load their rifles; before returning them to their sides. The captain orders the company to form two ranks. Once the ranks are formed, Captain Meyer gives the order to “present arms”. At that, the company takes aim at the targets. At his command, the men unleash a volley of lead down range. Some manage to land a hit on the straw targets. Others miss, landing several yards back. The men pause as they return to rest. Sure most of them have fired a gun before, however the sharp cracks seem deafening with over a hundred others firing with them. They stand frozen from a slight shock. It is then that the men realize, this is in fact real. “While this is the first day for you all, it would seem as though we need to work on firing in unison.” Captain Meyer slowly walks down the ranks. “We must learn to move and fire together. The reason being that as a company or regiment, we are one body, one soldier. Now then, reload and fire again.” Southern Deutschland Near Walchensee Lake May 23,6:35 pm After riding and harassing the routing Saddle Arabian army for several days, General Windstar decides for his two brigades to set up camp along the shore of Walchensee Lake; in order for his men two rest and to allow General Niederman and his infantry to catch up. He is relieved to be able to stretch his legs after riding all day, therefore he decides to take a walk through camp as the two brigades continue to set up their tents. Along his walk, he takes in the sights and sounds of camp. The sound of pots clattering as he passes the cook’s tent and the ambient chatter among his men fills his ears. His walk takes him to the shoreline of the lake. Finding a good tree, Windstar sits himself down against the tree, gazing across the water. He sits motionless, not saying a word as he loses himself in though. He doesn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching him. “General, Sir.” A voice announces behind him. Turning around, his eyes lay upon Captain Becker. “Evening, Captain. What do you have to report?” The unicorn general asks, returning the salute. “Well sir, our scouts have reported back. Said that the Saddlers are about twenty four kilometers south west of our position, and about three kilometers from the border. At the moment, we don't know if they're going to dip back across the border to conceal their movements, or if they'll swing up with another attack somewhere west of here. Also, we have received some supplies, mostly food, from the town up the road a little ways.” “We got lucky once.” Windstar begins, while lighting a cigar. “I don't want to push our luck. If we can get out ahead of them, we can either lead them or push them back east towards Wilhelm’s men, into open ground. If our luck holds out, General Kleist will have reached the rest of Niederman’s men by then. We just have to use ourselves as bait.” “I'm sure that luck will be on our side, when we make that call.” The two stand in silence as they watch the lake. A cool breeze drifts across the water as a paddling of ducks float by. Soon the sun begins to dip down below the tree line. “Calming, isn't it?” Windstar says, breaking the silence. “It's different from the chaos of battle.” He stops and turns to the Captain, after realizing that he hasn't eaten since morning. “Are the cooks set up yet.” “They were starting to serve the men as I made my way over here.” “Good, because I think I'm going to head over there now. Three days of being without a resupply has left the rations to be a bit…. scarce.” Offering a hand, Becker pulls Windstar up to his hooves. The two then make their way towards the cook, in the hopes of getting something to eat before nightfall. "After you get done eating, gather the officers, have them meet in the HQ tent. I need to brief them on my plan." "Yes, sir." > Chapter 7 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Southern Deutschland 20 km outside Ravensburg June 2, 10:39 am It has been over a week since General Windstar moved his army west in pursuit of the invading force, trying to lure them into a trap. It has been nearly a month since his heroic victory at Penzburg. His men are feeling the effects of this campaign. Everyone is still hoping to end the war, at the most by the end of the year. The short rest and resupply at Walchensee Lake was but a short glimmer of hope. Since setting forth westward, there has been constant turbulence. A couple of days after setting out, heavy rains slowed and eventually stopped the defending dragoons, as they were forced to take shelter until the rain stopped. The rain resulted in the cannons and wagons being stuck in the mud. As luck would have it, after three days of constant rain, Celestia’s sun shines high in the sky; drying any roads. After packing up camp, the army continues its journey west. Following along Lake Constance, they make their way towards the city of Ravensburg. The men swear that they can hear the enemy moving on the other side of the lake. Looking across the lake with his spyglass, Windstar can just make out the saddler camp. Further down the lake, he spots the Saddle Arabian city of Agrathar. An elegant palace rises from the center of the city, overlooking the lake. The palace, named the Golden Sun palace, is most known for its iconic gold dome roof. On The Deutsche side of the lake, the city of Ravensburg rests. Another ornate castle towers over the buildings. Several brick spires guard the grand palace, named Schloss am Seeufer or Lakeshore Castle. A large round stained glass window adors the front of the keep. While the two countries had their past feuds, the two waterfront cities did not take notice. When settlers from both sides arrived at the lake, they agreed to share the lake provided that steady and fair trade was established. Eventually the noble families of both cities became close friends through this, cancelling out any negativity towards one another. Windstar moves his men down the road along the coast. To their right, farms and fields stretch on towards the horizon. One thing that the men take notice of is the large population of ponies in the area. “Sure are a lot of ponies in these parts.” Captain Becker comments, as they pass by another field. A couple ponies lead a team of horses down the rows, pulling a planter behind them. “There were a lot of ponies that moved here during that uprising in Equestria a couple hundred years ago.” The general answers. “My ancestors among them.” As the two brigades of cavalry continue down the road, farms are soon replaced by houses. Many of the townsfolk line the streets, to watch the soldiers ride by. Children stopped playing to watch the soldiers ride by. Their eyes fill with wonder and excitement as they watch. “It’s like they don’t realize that the Saddler army is right across the water.” Windstar comments, as he continues into the city. “There’s a fort about five kilometers northwest of this city. That’ll most likely be their target. We’ll need to rally the local militia if we are going to defend it.” Captain Becker turns to look at his general, wiping some sweat off his forehead. “I’ve heard some talk back in Walchensee, Sir. Apparently, several fortresses along the border were attacked. If I remember correctly, only a few were lost; those were the first ones hit though.” The two brigades continue through the city, before stopping at the Schloss am Seeufer to meet with the governor of the area. General Windstar and several other officers dismount and head inside, where they are met with Governor Steeleburg. He is a fairly short man with a distinct limp on his right leg, from a childhood injury. A thick dark brown beard embellishes his chin, with a pipe clenched between his teeth. Stepping inside, they are met with a refreshing rush of cool air. “Greetings General, what brings you and your men to my peaceful city.” “Governor, I ask for you to mobilize the local militia and deploy them to Fort Makkaw.” The governor stands still in confusion.” Are you aware that the enemy army has positioned itself just across the lake from your city. “ He turns to face the window overlooking the water.” The only thing stopping them from attacking now is because of the good standing these two cities have.” Windstar takes notice of the number of cargo ships moving across the water. Three ships are anchored towards the center. A fairly large ship moves into the harbor to be unloaded. “ You most likely have two days before they’re at your doorstep.” “I don’t understand? For five hundred years, we have kept a close friendship between us and our hooved friends. Why would they attack us now?” Suddenly a massive fireball erupts from the harbor. The cargo ship has exploded. The three anchored ships begin firing cannons towards the city. A minute later, the coastal Deutsche battery returns fire with their 24lb cannons. Seeing this, Governor Steelburg calls for the militia. Before leaving, Steeleburg turns to address the riders." Take your men to Fort Makkah. Help reinforce it. The 82nd infantry is already stationed there. My militia will repel any amphibious landing. Once we stop them here, we will meet you at the fort. Though I do have a question. Where is your infantry support at?" Windstar lets out a sigh. " They are currently two or three days behind us. Colonel Wallenhorn's 3rd cavalry may be the closest. Even then, he's still half a day's march east of here." He pauses." I shall send out a rider to Wallenhorn's position, and have them reinforce us. Until then, we're at the mercy of about 10,000 enemy soldiers. " Ravensburg, Deutschland June 2nd, 12:13 pm The streets of Ravensburg are in a frenzy as families rush to evacuate the city. The local militia makes their way towards the harbor, some helping citizens with their evacuation, others saying goodbye to loved ones. Windstar decided to leave one of his brigades to help defend, while his other brigade moved on to Fort Makkah to prepare for the oncoming attack. He hopes they can defend long enough for the Saddlers to decide to flank around to the fort instead. A group of militiamen make their way towards the coast. Leading them is a unicorn sergeant named Crimson Charge. Behind his militia is about twenty of the General Windstar’s men. The distant sounds of the cannons grow louder as they approach. A shell strikes the second floor of a building next to them and explodes. Glass and rubble rain down on them. A wind rushes just over their heads as another shell lands next to the dragoons, killing and wounding several of them. Another few minutes of running pass as they soon arrive at the front lines. A collection of overturned wagons, grain bags, and fencing make up the Deutsche defences. General Windstar’s artillery commander Captain Calef positioned his cannons along the defences to return fire. Reaching his post, Sergeant Crimson looks out over the lake to see three frigates sending fire into the city. Two more ships, sloops of war, move into position. Behind them are several dozen rafts and longboats full of saddler troops. The sight shakes him to his core, for he had never seen combat before today. He breathes a slight sigh of relief as they are still out of range of his musket. An order is given that all militia are to fix bayonets and hold position. Reaching to his side, he grips his bayonet before attaching it to the end of his musket. Looking down the line, the red maned sergeant takes notice that his men stand ready to defend their Homeland. The guns from the battery continue to try and sink the approaching longboats before they land. "Damn!" Someone shouts as a twenty pound shell splinters a longboat. A couple of Saddle Arabian soldiers are flung away from the wreck. As both sides’ cannons continue to rock each other’s lines, the Saddle Arabian infantry, of about two brigades, makes its way across the lake soon entering musket range. Captain Calef orders his men to load canister shot in the guns along the defensive line. The first cannon lines up with an oncoming raft before firing. The gun rocks back with a deafening blast, as it delivers its deadly payload. The raft becomes hidden from sight as water splashes around. When the water settles, the boat remains nothing more than a pile of splinters in the water. Its passengers reside around it, dismembered and unrecognizable. One of the frigates begins to smoke as it continues to be targeted by the Deutsche cannons. With that, the militia and dragoons open fire. Crimson fires his musket then reloads. Cocking the hammer back, he lines up his barrel towards an oncoming boat. After choosing his target he pulls the trigger. The sharp crack of the musket sends the mini ball towards a rower, who proceeds to topple overboard. Several others around Crimson also target the boat, taking out many more. Two more canister shots from Calef’s cannons decimate two more boats and cripple several others around them. Suddenly a cannonball slams into part of the wall near Crimson. Blood and debris shower the militiamen. Up in the steeple of the city hall, General Windstar watches the battle rage on. He watches as Calef’s cannons continue to splinter the enemy longboats. From his position, he can oversee the battle at the coast, and also see the fort jutting out just above the treeline “They're sending two brigades at us.” He comments, taking note of the number of infantry trying to cross the lake. Looking across to Agrathar he notices a large number of soldiers moving north to circle around the lake, most likely heading to Fort Makkah. “Looks like they're moving another two brigades north towards the fort.” He returns his gaze back to the battle in front of him. He watches as a clock tower explodes from a Saddler cannonball. Two percussion shots from the battery slam into the smoking frigate before exploding. The ship begins to drastically lisp, taking on water. Windstar watches as the crew begins jumping overboard to avoid going down with the now sinking ship. Shifting his view down towards the coastline, he watches as the battle rages on. Windstar is pleased so far with how well his men and the militia are holding out against their invaders. Another volley from musket fire tears through the advancing longboats. While the men are proving to be able to repel the enemy force, the gunships on the lake are proving to be quite troublesome. He watches as another group of men are taken out by another shell, from one of the sloops. Calling up one of his officers, he orders them to deliver a message to the coastal battery. “Find the battery commander. Tell him, I want those guns to target the enemy sloops. Once those are down, they are to resume fire on those two frigates.” He orders. The sergeant salutes and runs off. Resuming his watch over his men, he notices something to the left of his vision that catches his eye. Several longboats are making an attempt to flank the defensive line. “Damn!” He mutters. “What is it, sir?” One of his other officers asks. “They're trying to flank us. Left of the line, about hundred’n fifty yards out. Dozens of them.” He turns towards them. “Captain Mooreswin, I want at least two companies to move in and hold our flank. I don't care if it's my men or militia, just get someone to be there.” “Consider it done, Sir.” He says with a salute. Captain Mooreswin races down the avenue towards the left flank, while cannonballs explode around him. Looking to his right, down a side street, he notices several local women dragging wounded soldiers indoors, to shelter them from the battle. The screams of pain are almost drowned out by the sound of battle. As he continues down the road, he is suddenly thrown from his horse as a cannonball explodes in front of him. Shrapnel riddles the poor animal as Mooreswin slowly stands up. Checking himself over, he notices that his arms are bleeding. A large piece of shrapnel is embedded in his upper right arm. Trying to ignore the pain, he continues on foot. After about ten minutes of painfully running, Captain Mooreswin finally reaches his target. After finding the company commanders, he delivers the message. “Orders from General Windstar, you are about to be flanked. You are to pull back and move in to secure the flank over there!” Mooreswin orders, as he points to where Windstar wants them to move to. “Very well! Thank you for the heads up!” The company commanders turn and yell out to their men. “Let's go men! F Company, U company, form up on the left flank! Move it!” Both companies comply instantly and move to the desired position. As fate would have it, Sergeant Crimson Charge is among the men to hold the flank. As he stands to move, a piece of flying rock finds it home inbedded in his shoulder. Wincing from pain, he presses on to his position. Reaching the three roads, the two companies spread out to evenly cover each road. Crimson stares down the line to see the first rank kneeling, muskets drawn. The second line remains standing. He shifts his gaze down the middle road where the Saddler infantry is unloading and forming their own firing lines. A minute later, the Saddlers begin advancing. Sweat rolls down his face as he takes a deep breath in anticipation of the upcoming fight. > Chapter 8 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Emden shipyards, North Deutschland June 2nd, 1:36 pm While the war rages on in the south, the Kaiserliche Marine has been building up their fleets. Currently they are anticipating the completion of what will be the largest ship in their fleet. The engineers and naval personnel hope for construction to be over by the 5th of June. The SMS Fisgard will be a massive steamship of 400 meters in length. No where else in Equestria is there a ship like it. Four 75mm breech-loading cannons rest on the top deck. A deck below houses a row of 24 pound cannons on either side, behind the ship’s double hull. Two smoke stacks rise up from the center. A pilot house overlooks the bow of the ship. Two people stand on top of the dry dock watching the workers put the finishing touches on. One is the chief engineer over the construction. The other is the one who will use this ship as his flag ship. Admiral Maelstrom. He is a pale green earth pony from the western coast of Deutschland. He started off his naval career as the first mate of a small patrol sloop near his hometown when he was a colt. Now he is the commander of the third fleet. “She's beautiful.” Maelstrom says as one the main guns are hoisted up to the bow. “I'm glad you approve of her, Admiral. It's an honor having you here today.” The engineer watches as Maelstrom’s eyes cast their gaze along the length of the ship. “How much of the interior is finished? Am I able to see inside?” “I do believe that the boys are just painting and moving furniture around inside, so yes I'll take you down there.” Both move to the plank that will allow them to board. They make their way along the side towards the rear, stopping near the two stern cannons. Admiral Maelstrom lets out an impressed whistle.” Once she gets out to open sea, Saddler navy won't know what hit ‘em. Based on the reports from Admiral Mason, they've already engaged multiple Saddler transport ships heading north towards us.” “Ha, maybe the sight of this ship will be enough for them to turn around.” “Hmm maybe. If not, we’ll give them a reason.” Ravensburg, Deutschland June 2nd, 3:25 pm Sergeant Crimson slams the ramrod down the barrel, before returning it home. He cocks back the hammer and takes aim at the advancing Saddle Arabian infantry. For almost five volleys now, they have halted their advances. The sounds of the battle are drowned out by another volley of musket fire. A second later, the Saddlers return fire, sending another wave of lead into the Deutsche position. Crimson flinches as he feels something warm and wet splash across his face. Looking over, the man next to him falls limp, garnishing a bleeding hole in his neck. A cannonball slams into the Saddler color guard, tearing him from his thoughts. As he reloads, he watches as a new pony grabs their flag to lead the Sadder assault. Cocking the hammer back, he takes aim at an officer carrying a sword and pulls the trigger. A puff of smoke escapes the end of his musket as it lurches back into his shoulder. As the smoke clears, Crimson sees his target lying face down on the road. As he reloads again, he watches as a group, of about twelve of the dragoons, empty their revolver rifles into the advancing enemy line. Looking back in front of him, he notices how close the enemy has marched. The two companies have already lost a sixth of their men. Leveling his musket towards the enemy firing line, he fires. Getting frustrated by the number of casualties among the men, the Deutsche lieutenant colonel slams his hat against his leg and orders his men to fall back. He repositions his battalion fifty meters back near a large stone fountain in the center of the road. Once his men relocate, the small group of dragons open fire while the riflemen reload. A volley of musket fire from the Invading force slams into their defenses. The brave militiamen return with their own wave of lead. The lieutenant colonel makes his way down the firing line, filling holes and rallying his men. From his lookout, General Windstar watches as the battle rages on. A thick cloud of smoke hovers over the city. His southern flank was forced to pull back for fear of being overrun. The number of casualties along the coastal line continue to rise as the Saddle Arabian infantry has begun successfully landing troops on the shoreline. An explosion erupts on the lake as another Saddler ship is critically damaged. Realizing that he is being overwhelmed, he begins to think of his options. He could just pull his forces and retreat to the nearby Fort Makkah, but he would never leave his fellow countrymen to the mercy of a foreign invader. The reinforcements at the fort are out of the question as it will take too long to mobilize and march down. It wouldn't work since the enemy is sending an attack force around towards them. There is still the chance that Colonel Wallenhorn will relieve them. He glances down over the city until he spots the massive town square. He begins to formulate a plan in his mind. ‘Hmm. If I can get at least two cannons in that square, ‘ He says to himself. ‘I can have the infantry fill in around them.’ “Captain Owens.” Windstar calls out. When the captain approaches, he relays his plan to him. “I need you to find Captain Calef. Tell him, I want at least two of his guns to relocate to the town square, it's about two kilometers back into the city. I want the militia infantry to pull back and cover Calef's men. Have the dragoons fall in behind them. Once they're all in the square, we give them everything we got, at least until reinforcements arrive. Understood.” “Yes, sir!” Captain Owens salutes andraces out to the front lines. June 2nd, 4:12 pm As Sergeant Crimson and his men slowly move back, he notices the cannon crews desperately trying to limber their guns. Focusing back towards the enemy, he levels his musket. He groans slightly as the rifle jumps back into his shoulder. The wound in his back is causing pain and discomfort every time he pulls the trigger. Still he does his best to press on. His men fire another volley into the staggering Saddler lines. As if by some miracle, the Saddler ranks are shattered as they begin to fall back. The defending Deutsche take a much needed breath before the enemy regroups and tries again. As he finishes loading, he sees that his men are falling back. Looking around, Crimson notices that the few cannons that were being packed up, are already halfway down the street towards the center of town. Time seems to slow as Crimson becomes lost to his thoughts. The sounds of the raging battle become that of echoes. ‘Is this how it ends?’ He says to himself.’ With my city up in flames.’ He feels something wet splash onto his neck. Turning to his right, he watches as a young soldier topples over; while a hole through his head bleeds out. Suddenly he feels a hand grab his shoulder. Quickly looking over, he sees another one of his men standing there with a concerned look on his face. “Let's go, Sergeant. We have to fall back to the square!” Instantly, the noise and chaos of the battle comes back, flooding Crimson’s senses. A group of dismounted dragoons hold their ground against a new wave of Saddler infantry, so as to buy as much time as they can, for the infantry. The group of about a hundred dragoons spread out, taking cover behind whatever they can find. A thick cloud of smoke forms in front of their line as they open fire into the Saddle Arabian ranks dozens of pony infantrymen drop to the ground from the hot Deutsche lead. As the Saddlers take aim, the Deutsche do their best to duck down behind their cover. They emerge from their defense and empty all six shots into the Saddler ranks. The enemy force reloads and fires, taking out several of the Deutsche dragoons. Reloading, the dragoons hold their position and fire again, hoping to buy enough time for the new defenses to be ready. Rounding the corner, Sergeant Crimson takes notice of the new defensive line. A waist high stone wall surrounds a bronze statue in the middle of the square. Three of Calef's cannons are positioned along the wall aiming down the avenue. Moving his men into position, he fills in on the left flank of the square. To his right is one of the cannons, with the crew busy loading another canister shot. Off in the distance, Crimson can still hear fighting from where he was. Looking down the line, many of the men reload in preparation for the coming fight. About ten minutes later, the gunfire near the coast dies down. The Saddle Arabian infantry makes its way down the streets of Ravensburg. They pass by ruined apartment buildings not noticing several upstairs windows slowly opening. The clicking of musket hammers go unnoticed by the infantry, as they continue their march towards the defending Deutsche. Suddenly a yell erupts from the building “Fickt euch Sattler!” A voice yells as several flaming bottles are thrown into the Saddler line. The unfortunate infantrymen scream in pain as they are engulfed in flames. Immediately fire spreads across the line as the bottles break. Amongst the confusion, musket fire from the nearby buildings tears through the already staggering enemy lines. The colonel of the Saddler regiment realizes something about this attack. The time in between shots is slower than what his men were facing on the coast. He also notices that the volleys aren't full volleys, just individual shots. ‘These aren't regulars fighting us. This is a civilian militia.’ Colonel Atir ponders as several of his companies form firing lines to counter the ambush. The Saddlers take aim and release a wave of lead towards the militia. The constant musket fire and improvised fire bombs are proving to be quite troublesome, as the number of dead and wounded slowly pile up along the street. Deciding not to be pinned down, Colonel Atir orders two of his companies to clear out the buildings. Two riflemen break down a door leading to a second floor apartment, muskets raised. They hear crying inside and slowly make their way in. Rounding the corner, they see a man dressed in common clothes laying on the floor motionless. Beside him rests a musket. A woman and child are kneeling next to him crying. “Töte uns nicht! Erbarme dich!” They cry out. Slowly, the pair lower their weapons and move to check the other rooms. They hear groaning coming from one of the rooms breaking down the door; they are met with about half a dozen wounded Deutsche cavalrymen and infantry. The woman from before runs up to them begging them to leave, unfortunately the two can't understand her. Thinking she is speaking gibberish, they push her out of the way. Six more Saddler infantrymen, including a lieutenant, march into the room “Sir, what do we do about the wounded?” He asks. The lieutenant walks over, and looks inside at the wounded. “Our orders are clear. “He looks back at his men. “Rid these buildings of Deutsche soldiers. Get to it.” He says sternly. With that, he makes his way towards the door. Soon, a series of gunshots can be heard behind him. As he is about to leave he sees the woman grab the musket out of the corner of his eye. Swiftly, he grabs his revolver and fires. She collapses to the floor, as a hole through her chest bleeds out. Out on the streets the Saddler regiment continues to suppress the enemy ambush. A little while later the two companies are emerging from the buildings, and rejoining the line. Reforming their column of four, they continue their march. Sergeant Crimson watches in anticipation as the enemy column slowly makes their way towards them. “Cannon Battery Fire!” Instantly all three cannons fire canister shots into the coming infantry. The first four rows of Saddlers are decimated. He cocks the hammer back on his musket and takes aim at a flag bearer. Waiting a few seconds for his target to move into range he fires. The rest of the defending force follows. As the defenders reload, the Saddlers return fire. “Give 'em the double canister, boys! Double canister.” He overhears as he reloads. Crimson levels his musket and fires again, this time towards an officer on a horse. As the smoke from his musket clears, he watches as the Saddler officer drops to the ground. Another few hours pass as the two sides exchange fire. Several more blasts from the cannons and added musket fire force the Saddlers back as their line breaks. With the sun starting to set and ammunition running low, it's clear that they won't be able to keep up the fight much longer. In the break of the fighting, the Deutsche continue to build up their defenses. The dragoons reposition to either side of the infantry. Two companies are held up in buildings overlooking the square. The ground floor of the city hall is converted into a field hospital. General Windstar walks down the line for status reports. Two officers approach with a salute. "General, sir. My scouts have reported that the Saddler army is held up along the coast to about two kilometers in. It seems that they're settling in for the night. In other words, General, they've stopped." "Hmm. It almost seems like they're hoping we slip away during the night. Hoping we'll use this to our advantage while they come in and take the city." Windstar answers before addressing the second officer "Sir, ammunition and water is running dangerously low. If they attack tonight or tomorrow, we won't have anything to shoot with." "Take from the wounded and dead. I'll send word to Fort Makkah to send what they can. I will figure something out for the water." Sergeant Crimson rests against a wall outside the city hall. Shortly after the fighting had died down, he was taken to be treated for his wounds. For the past two hours they have been carrying the wounded in for surgery. A corporal walks to him holding two tin plates. Crimson recognizes him as Corporal Rudolph Pilsner, a childhood friend. The two were practically inseparable growing up. Setting one of the plates of food in front of Crimson, Pilsner leans up against the wall next to him. "Here you go, Sergeant. It's hot." "Thank-you Pilsner, I feel like after today, we all need a hot meal." "How's your shoulder?" " Sore, but at least they got the shrapnel out. The surgeon said that there was a piece of rock about as big as my hand." "Damn." The two sit and rest when suddenly a messenger rides past them. They watch as he rides up to where General Windstar is, and hops off his horse. “General Windstar.” He says with a salute.” Compliments of Colonel Wallenhorn. He says his men will be here within the hour behind him, is General Brieg’s division.” After hearing that, Windstar lets out a breath of relief. “Good, that's good. Thank you.” He says practically hugging the messenger.” You get something to eat and rest, you look like you need it. Then maybe we can turn the tide of this battle.” Crimson and Pilsner return their focus back to their meal before another corporal walks up carrying a small satchel. Corporal Pilsner, you're up for watch. Here's some cartridges.” He hands over the cartridge bag and heads towards the cooks. “Right.” Pilsner mutters while standing up.”Well rest up Crimson. Guess I got night watch.” Giving a quick stretch he heads off to his post. > Chapter 9 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Throughout the night and into the morning, Deutsche reinforcements and supplies have been arriving at Ravensburg. Somewhere around 10’oclock, Colonel Wallenhorn’s cavalry arrived on scene and began deploying to the front. General Brieg ordered a forced march, for his division, through the night. His first brigade, under the command of General Hollenfaüst, arrived around 1’oclock in the morning, and began entrenching to the south of General Windstar’s men. Under the moonlight and campfires, the brigade places four new cannon batteries on the hills, just south of Ravensburg. The infantry brigade remains at the ready, with a strong front; while also trying to give as many men some rest. Just before daybreak Hollenfaüst’s brigade begins preparing for the coming fight. At the same time, General Brieg’s second brigade and third brigade marches down the Teichblick Road to begin deploying to the north of the Saddle Arabian army. The fourth brigade, the Second Brigade of the East, continues making its way towards the fight. They are expected to arrive sometime mid-morning. In total, around 20,000 infantry reinforcements are arriving; in addition to the 800 cavalrymen that arrived with Wallenhorn. Throughout the night, General Windstar ordered scouts to map the enemy positions in the city. Keeping to the shadows and alleyways, they were able to identify enemy positions along with weak points and areas of importance. June 3rd, 7:23 am Ravensburg, Deutschland. General Windstar makes his way through the makeshift headquarters to meet with the other officers. Around him, his men and Wallenhorn’s men prepare for today's fight. Yesterday's fight was a tough fight, but his men prevailed. The reinforcements gave his men a much needed morale boost, after having lost almost a third of their men the day before. Walking through the door, he makes his way into headquarters and takes a spot around a table with a map of the region printed on it. Inside the room also stands Major General Brieg smoking a pipe, brigadier General Hollenfaüst, Colonel von Schultz commander of Brieg’s second brigade, and General Trupiz, commander of Briegs third. “Ah General Windstar, good to see you're alright.” Brieg says, noticing Windstar approaching. “Glad to see your boys when they arrived.” He replies with a small laugh. Taking his place around the map, he points out key areas. “My scouts have mapped out the Saddler position through the night. They've created a semicircle around the harbor to protect their ships and cannons. They have at least eight batteries set on the coast. Further out, about a kilometer and a half, is their front line. They have infantry along this long road here.” He says, running his finger along the road. “Dorset avenue. Estimated strength is forty thousand.” General Brieg steps forward clearing his throat. “We have Windstar’s men here at the city square along with about a hundred and fifty miliz. To their right is Wallenhorn. To the south, Hollenfaüst’s brigade is set up along heights, just outside of town.” Brieg turns his attention to Hollenfaüst. “General Hollenfaüst, I trust your guns are in position.” “Oh most definitely, Sir. I'll bet my guns can hit their camps now.” “Very good. When Laesche’s boys get here we'll have them fall in on your right. Now to the north, we have Von Schultz and Trupiz. Once the fighting starts, I want your two brigades to push into the city. Force them out into the open, preferably south.” Glancing across the map, he analyzes the positions of his men one last time. “Gentleman, these deployments are sound. The rest is in Faust’s hands.” June 3rd, 8:30 am Onboard the SMS könig, 3rd fleet South Meditermarean sea, 64km southwest of the Deutschland Pushing through the thin morning fog, the Deutsche navy’s 3rd fleet makes its way along the Saddle Arabian coast. It consists of roughly 80 ships. With the SMS König being the flagship, two Sachsen class ironclads flank her on either side, offering protection. Leading the way are six Camäleon-class gunboats. They're main objective is to block Saddler harbors from merchant and cargo ships. So far, they've been successful in turning merchant ships around or sinking them. Inside the captain’s office, of the König, Admiral Eduard von Capelle braces himself on a table with a map of the ocean, planning the course of his fleet. He hopes to be able to reach the Horn of Saddle Arabian in a week. He is hoping to catch transport and merchant ships by surprise that are coming around the horn. There is also a Zebra colony about two days sail south east of the horn for re supplying his fleet. For now they must stay their course. His thoughts are interrupted as a lieutenant enters. “Sir, we've spotted sails on the horizon. Three ships in total.” “Are they our’s?” He questions. “No, Sir, they are flying Equestrian colors.” Capelle nods in acknowledgment, before turning his gaze out a window. “Merchant ships, most likely carrying guns and ammunition for the Saddlers. You know the drill. Turn them around or eliminate them.” “Yes, sir.” He replies with a salute. Turning, he heads out the door. Blowing on a whistle, the crew races to battle stations. A signal is relayed to the rest of the fleet for general quarters. The sailors of the König wait in anticipation for the three Equestrian ships to approach After about twenty minutes of waiting, five frigates and two ships of the line begin to surround the merchant ships. Producing a spyglass, Capelle makes a mental note of the vessels. “Hmm, three ships. Two standard freighters, one steam paddle. Sails and rigging on the freighters, lightly armed and armored.” He looks up to the flags on the ships. “Definitely Equestrian ships. Wouldn't be surprised if they are named the RMS Friendship or some bullshit.” He says with a laugh. The frigates begin signaling to the three ships to turn back or be fired on. When they did not receive a response, one of the frigates fires a warning shot, which splashes about fifty yards short of the three ships. The two sailed freighters return fire with the few cannons onboard, all while moving on their path, hoping to run past the Deutsche ships. The frigates return fire with a full broadside from all five ships, sending shells crashing into the three ships. The three Equestrian vessels hold firm, returning with their own cannons. A lucky cannon shot sends an explosive shot into the pilot house of one of the frigates. The blast sends deadly splinters and shrapnel across the deck and into crew members. Blow for blow, the ships continue to shell each other. After taking multiple shots, one of the Equestrian begins to lisp to the port side; as smoke begins emerging from below deck. Two shots from SMS Stein slam into the steam paddle. The first hits just above water level. The second makes a direct hit at the boilers. Thick black smoke pours out of the chimney before the entire ship detonates in an impressive fireball. The two remaining Equestrian ships seem to pause almost in shock as the paddle ship explodes. After several more blasts from the frigates, the main mast on the remaining Equestrian ship shatters into splinters, when a shell strikes the side of it. Finally the Equestrians give in and cease fire. As the mast collapses into the water, Admiral Capelle assesses the damage from the deck of his ship. It has been a small skirmish, however even skirmishes come at a cost. The thought crosses his mind as he glances over at the destroyed pilot house on the frigate. The fleet continues on its way as lifeboats begin to deploy from the merchant ships. June 3rd, 10:37 am Ravensburg, Deutschland The sounds of battle echo through the streets of Ravensburg. The southern Deutsche position began shelling the Saddler position mid morning, forcing them to make a move. Three Saddle Arabian brigades march towards the southern line. Hollenfaüst’s men are dug in behind a fence running the length of the line, with the left making a slight curve in the line. Marching through a thick green field of barley, several ranks of Saddlers begin their advance. Two ranks of Saddler infantry have already take position and return musket fire.The Deutsche batteries on the ridge begin targeting their lines The cannons leap back as they are fired. The smell of powder and smoke fills the air. Two of the four batteries target the advancing infantry, while the other two target the enemy artillery as an attempt to draw fire. “Load!” The captain of the second battery cries. “900 meters! Case shot, five second fuse” he glances down the line as the crews load the guns. “Ready!” He pauses for a second. “Fire!” Four blasts from the battery rock the ground beneath him. The first lands just short of the advancing infantry, sending dirt and shrapnel into their ranks. The second explodes overhead raining iron shot down, tearing a massive hole in the line. The third slams through the ranks exploding behind them, and the fourth explodes a few feet off the ground, in the middle of a line. Despite the brutal bombardments and musket fire, the Saddlers press on; leaving the mangled bodies of their comrades behind. Pulling out his binoculars, the captain watches the fight. He scans the battlefield for where he needs to target his battery. He holds his breath as an enemy battalion attempts to charge the Deutsche position, fortunately heavy casualties force them back. On the Deutsche right flank, the 9th Leipzig holdfast. They are positioned behind a stone wall in front of a small farmhouse, with their sharpshooters firing from the windows of the house. The Saddlers have made several attempts to turn the defending line, trying to push the right flank in. Alas those attempts have been met with heavy casualties and failed. The Deutsche infantry however has only taken moderate head and shoulder wounds. Another volley of lead slams into the advancing infantry, causing them to break formation. Two more Saddler battalions move into position “Battalion! Fire by rank!” One of the lieutenants orders, worried about the coming wave of enemies. The first rank of Deutsche infantry takes aim and fires. As they reload the second rank takes aim, before letting off their wave of lead. The two Saddler battalions take aim to return fire. A cloud of smoke erupts in front of them, obscuring the view. Smoke rises from in the city signaling that the cavalry and militia have also engaged the enemy. Colonel Von Schultz and General Trupiz’s two brigades begin their march into the city in an attempt to drive out the enemy into the open. The battle is going according to plan. All that is needed now is for General Laesche and the fourth brigade to arrive on the field. Across the battlefield, along the Teichblick Road, the sound of fifes and drums fill the air as the fourth brigade enters the city. They move south, staying close to the edge of the city before deploying near Hollenfaüst’s right flank. General Laesche positions his men forward with the batteries on the outskirts of the city. Three battalions move forward to engage while another two hold back in reserve. Needless to say, the Saddlers were not expecting more infantry support. General Laesche watches as two regiments slam into his brigade from a distance, his cannons positioned not too far away just in front of a small orchard. The two sides exchange blows as a Saddler battalion moves in to try and flank the left side of Laesche's front line, however his men stubbornly hold position allowing the cannons to redirect their fire. “Colonel Willich.” He calls out, riding up to the colonel’s regiment. “Bring your men forward and move in on the right. We'll flank these bastards.” “Yes, Sir.” Willich replies with a salute. Immediately he sets out to reposition his men. Pulling out his binoculars, General Laesche peers over towards Hollenfaüst’s position. He watches as Hollenfaüst’s men stubbornly hold their position. He takes notice as the Sadder infantry seems to break, falling back towards the city. Suddenly a bold Sadder battalion quickly pushes towards Hollenfaüst's right flank and Laesche’s left, attempting to break through the lines. They hope to turn the Deutsche lines in on itself. A massive volley from both sides of the line slams into the battalion. The battalion moves to a position of column of four, with two ranks firing on either side. Ultimately the losses are too much, forcing them to fall back. A short break in the fighting allows the southern line to be resupplied where needed. With General Trupiz and Colonel Von Schultz’s men having marched past the Deutsche center, more Saddler troops are being forced out of the city and into the open. General Wallenhorn’s men moved south, out of the city center, to reinforce Hollenfaüst's position. Several hours of fighting pass as Saddler forces begin to fall back to the coastline. The last remains of the enemy in the city have finally retreated after a brutal final push against General Trupiz’s men cost the Saddlers, in the city, almost half their way strength. Hollenfaüst couldn't be more relieved when he saw the fluttering colors of Deutsche infantry appearing on the field across from him. He has lost almost a quarter of his brigade in the fight. Late in the afternoon several small vessels began ferrying the enemy infantry back across the lake into Saddle Arabian lands. After the fight, they begin to gather the wounded, taking them to the makeshift hospital at city hall. Trupiz’s brigade stayed on the front watching the Saddler retreat. Just before sunset, a courier from Fort Makkah rides up with a letter to General Windstar “General Windstar.” He addresses. “Compliments of Colonel Wetson of the 82nd Saddler forces are in full retreat. Cavalry forces gave chase to the Saddlers for several kilometers.” “Good.” Windstar replies. “Damn good job you boys did.” Addressing the men around him. June 4th 7:45 am Canterlot, Equestria Royal Dining Hall. Princess Celestia sat enjoying her breakfast while reading up on the events of days prior. Turning the page in the newspaper, she sees a disturbing article, causing her to freeze. Equestrian Ship Sunk! Reluctantly reading on, the article told of a merchant freighter that was attacked off the coast of Saddle Arabia. Just then, her sister Princess Luna walks in. “By the look in your eyes, I see you've seen the news.” Luna states. “This is the fifth time this week that we've lost a ship over there, and it's only Wednesday.” “Sister why won't you allow escorts to travel with them. Dear sister, Equestria possesses one of the largest naval fleets in the world. All we use them for is hunting pirates.” “I will not push my nation into a war.” Celesitia retorts firmly. “Especially if it's not our war.” “Princess!” Shouts a royal telegraph officer as he stumbles into the room. Catching his breath, he delivers his message with a bow. “Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, message from Filydelphia naval yard. Three ships were attacked yesterday.” “Were all three cargo ships?” Princess Luna questions. The officer tone sours. “I'm afraid not. One of the vessels was a civilian transport. The RMS Friendship I believe. Most of the passengers didn't make it. “Thank you, my little pony.” Celestia solemnly says. “For delivering this important information.” After the telegraph officer leaves, Princess Luna turns to her sister. “Sister I ask you again, have the Royal Navy escort our supply ships to Saddle Arabia. After much hesitation, Celestia finally gives her answer. “Very well. Inform Admiral Coral. Have his fleet move up to protect our ships.” She pauses for a minute, taking a sip of her tea. “I still believe that I will regret this decision later.” > Chapter 10 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the days following the sinking of the RMS Friendship, the princesses declared that all civilian travel to Saddle Arabia by sea is prohibited. Travel there is not, however, completely forbidden. Princess Celestia made an announcement stating that necessary travel shall be made via airship. Airship, one of the newer wonders of Equestria. Despite being significantly safer than boats, it has its flaws. Being that it's slower and cannot carry as many passengers, thus making ticket prices much higher. It's seen as more of a luxury for the rich than a means of travel. There is also the issue of weight. Many shipping companies prefer naval vessels, seeing as more cargo can be shipped. Despite these drawbacks, Celestia insisted that the ponies rely on airships for travel until the blockade around Saddle Arabia had left. As added safety, for the commercial ships, the Royal Navy has been ordered to act as escorts for cargo ships. They hope that the sight of Equestrian warships may force the Deutsche to end their blockade around Saddle Arabia. Since the Battle of Ravensburg, the Deutsche infantry has gone on the offensive pushing back the Saddler's western army. Several months of brutal fighting through the south mountains ensues as the bodies pile up. Finally, in late October the Saddler army finally collapses and orders a full retreat, with the Deutsche hot on their trail. As is by some miracle, heavy rains set in behind the retreating army, forcing the Deutsche to almost a complete stop. In the east, with the initial 40,000 men holding strong against the Saddle Arabians, they engaged in a brutal slugfest. Numerous battlefields scatter the countryside. Late in June, General Kleist’s men pushed the Saddlers almost to the border. The Saddlers respond with a massive counter attack, catching General Meulle’s division off guard. Realizing he is outnumbered, he sends word for reinforcements. June 3rd, 8:15 am South Meditermarean sea As Celestia’s sun rises in the morning, bringing warmth and light through the fog, the passengers of the RMS Friendship begin to arise from their slumber. Those already awake make their way to the dining hall for breakfast. Currently, they are five days into their six day voyage; for they are bound for the horn of Saddle Arabia. With another day of clear skies ahead of them, they are expected to dock sometime tomorrow around noon. Making his way back to the pilot house with his morning coffee, Captain North Sea prepares the route for the day. Looking over the railing, he watches as the other two ships in their small sailing party slowly chug along the water. He watches as lanterns begin to be lit, as the crews start to awaken. North Sea continues on his way, greeting passengers as they pass, before he comes to one of his sailors, Thunder Cloud. Former weather employee in Cloudsdale. “Ah, Mister Thunder Cloud.” He addresses his Pegasus friend.” What do the skies have planned for us today?” “Supposed to be beautiful today, Captain. Half an hour to an hour we should be out of this fog.” “Good. As you were.” With that, Captain Sea makes his way to the bridge. He passes by a few passengers before entering the bridge. Making his way to his position, something catches his eye in the fog. Grabbing a pair of binoculars, he peers out the window. “What is it, Sir?” “I don't know. I thought I saw something in the fog.” Immediately, the first and second mates rush up to the window to look for a possible ship. Instead, they are met with the dull grey fog. For a brief moment the fog clears just enough for one of the sailors to spot sails in the distance. “ There!” He shouts, pointing in the direction. “Sails in the distance, Bearing 140.” Captain North Sea snaps to where the ship was spotted. As the fog begins to clear, he spots the mystery ship “Sweet Celestia, that’s an entire fleet. A series of flashes are seen coming from a couple of the frigates. “Captain, they’re trying to signal us!” The Second Mate shouts. “They want us to turn around!” “Get a signal out. Inform them that we are a civilian steamship.” North Sea barks as two crewmen head to the signal light. Suddenly a cannonball lands off the bow of the ship. "Oh shit! They're firing on us!" One of the sailors shouts. "Captain, your orders!" "Easy lad. It's a warning shot. They want us to turn around and that's what we'll do. Helmsman bring us around. We'll try and bypass this blockade, just as long as nobody tries anything." Just as the words were leaving his mouth. Two blasts are heard from the two freighters' small 3” deck guns. The first shot landing just short of a frigate, the second however slams into the side of it. Instantly the Deutsche navy returns fire with a full broadside. "Dammit." Captain Sea mutters. "Helmsman, get us the fuck out of here! Petty Officer Eel, make sure the passengers are safe. Keep them calm." "Aye, sir." Two shells strike the ship. The first slams onto the deck before exploding into a shower of shrapnel. The second hits the signal lamp killing the two sailors trying to message them. The RMS Friendship moves in behind the two freighters, as they continue to fire at the Deutsche ships. Many passengers watch in awe and horror, from the dining hall, as the small skirmish unfolds. Panic erupts as a shell explodes off the side of the ship, fortunately not penetrating the ship. For the next few minutes, the two freighters attempt to hold their own in hopes that the Friendship would make her escape. Three more shells hit the freighters, as smoke starts rising from below deck. “Captain, message from the Eclair. They want us to make a run for it, saying that they'll buy us some time.” With a sigh, Captain Sea replies. “Very well, full ahead to st-...” Before he can finish his sentence, the RMS Friendship takes two direct hits. One strikes her just below the waterline, flooding the lower compartments. The second slams into the boiler room, before exploding. “Oh shit.” Is all he can say before the entire ship violently explodes into a massive fireball, ripping the ship in half. 238 of the 250 onboard are killed in the explosion. The Deutsche fleet eventually continues on their way after disabling the last freighter. July 5th, 10:53 am Outside of Hausham, Deutschland The two armies clash into each other. The fields of the small town of Hausham turn to chaos. General Meulle’s division along with three other brigades. The 1st brigade led by General Erwin, the Pony Brigade commanded by General McColt, and the 5th Rifle Brigade led by General Cruitz. In total, about 20,000 men engage overwhelming forces. Three divisions of Saddler infantry stopped the retreat and pushed back. Two divisions are attacking from the south, and one from the west. Meulle deploys his division forward to the south, allowing the other three brigades to hold his right flank. He sends three of his brigades forward holding his fourth in reserve. Four Saddle Arabian brigades slam into Meulle’s division. Fortunately his men remain determined to drive out the Saddler invaders, and stubbornly hold their position. They fire a volley directly into the approaching force. The shock from the musket fire causes the Saddlers to halt and take aim, releasing their own deadly wave of lead. Several shells, from General Erwin's artillery battery, explode overhead raining shrapnel down on the unfortunate soldiers below. Despite the losses and incoming artillery, the Saddlers pressed their attack on the Deutsche position. Looking beyond his lines, General Meulle spots another Saddler brigade in reserve Just in front of a small farm, General Meulle watches the battle unfold. From his position, he can almost make out the Saddler's artillery position. Four sections of cannons are deployed while another battery is to the right targeting Erwin and McColt's brigades. Fortunately, it seems as though General Cruitz's brigade is too hidden in the trees for the Saddle Arabian cannons to be of effect. The sounds of the battle are deafening as the artillery of both sides target their enemy's position. Just to the left of where Meulle is standing rests his own batteries, twelve sections of 12 pound field cannons. Taking the brunt of the fighting on the right, the pony brigade, under General McColt, hold strong, positioning themselves just atop a small hill in front of a farm. The front three regiments unleash a volley of lead into the approaching infantry. Seeing a flanking option, McColt moves his fourth regiment to the right of his ponies. Despite the incoming fire, his brigade stubbornly hold their ground. Across the battlefield, Major General Aklim watches on as his corps assaults the Deutsche lines. While at first he was hesitant of his commanding general’s plan, the more he thought about it leading up to this attack, the more honored he felt leading this attack. Now he sees this as a heroic deed for his country and sultan. General Haldedge, commander of all Saddle Arabian forces in Deutschland, realized that his retreating army needed a buffer to allow space in between them and the enemy; and also to allow his battered army to resupply without issue. He ordered General Aklim to launch a counterattack against the enemy, hopefully taking out a corps or two, until the rest of the army can redeploy in assistance. He hopes this plan will work based on the reports from his scouts, that the enemy is spread out, slowly moving south. General Aklim now leads his corps back north towards the enemy. July 5th, 2:45 pm North of Hausham North of Hausham, a brigade of Deutsche infantry makes their way towards the fray. A fairly fresh brigade, only having seen light skirmishes so far, consisting of 5th Frankfurt, 23rd Rhineland , and the 18th Lippe. Commanding them is Brigadier General Edwin Boyd. The drums and pipes begin as they enter the town. As the sound of battle slowly approaches, Erik leans over and whispers to Peter “Do you think we'll actually get to fight this time?” He asks. “Probably.” Peter replies. “From how fast they want us down here I'd say we're going straight into the fight.” Michael adds, jumping into the discussion. Several others around them also chime in, hoping to finally see some action, before being silenced by an officer. The 24th Bremen infantry brigade, having only deployed last month, has participated in one fairly large battle prior. Even then, most of the brigade was held in reserve. The men of the 23rd Rhineland continue down the road in anticipation for the coming battle. The sound of battle echoes closer with every step. As they march, they pass by several wounded men laying and waiting outside a field hospital. Many residents are also assisting with treating the wounded. Many stop for a moment to watch as the brigade marches by. "Give 'em hell, boys." They hear several cheers from the locals. Serving as a morale boost for the green soldiers, the nerves of the brigade are calmed slightly. With spirits high, they press on towards the fighting. They move swiftly through the city and begin deploying to the south of Meulle’s position, hoping to sweep the enemy's right flank. Moving past Meulle’s left flank, the new brigade goes unnoticed by the enemy, as Meulle’s extreme left moves forward to cover General Boyd's men. "Battalion!" Colonel Lehmann shouts. "By right flank, march!" Instantly the 23rd Rhineland, just as they had been trained, forms their line of battle. The company commanders position themselves in front to assist in the forming of the line. "Battalion, forward march!" Several skirmishers march ahead of the main force, hoping to catch the Saddlers by surprise. Cresting a hill, the skirmishers open fire on one of the Saddler regiments. The skirmishers quickly reload and fire again into the enemy. As they ready their third shot, the rest of the regiment reaches their position. Holding fire, they regroup into the firing line. Realizing that they are being flanked, two Saddler regiments turn to face the new threat. "Battalion, fire by rank!" As they hear the order, the first rank fires; unleashing a deadly volley of lead. A few seconds later the second rank fires. Peter quickly reloads. He felt practically deaf as the rear rank fired their volley. His senses are assaulted as the overpowering smell of burnt black powder and smoke fill the air. The sound of the gunfire, cannons, and screams from the wounded fills his ears. A cloud of smoke appears in front of him. He jumps as the man next to him falls to the ground in pain, clutching his stomach. A quick glance down the line, sees that several others have also been shot. Reloading his rifle, he takes aim again at the opposition force. A pressure wave flies past him as an enemy cannon shell strikes the line several yards down. The front rank fires again, obscuring Peter's view of the battle. As the second rank takes aim, the enemy fires another volley. The sound of whistling minié balls fills the air. Two shots from Meulle’s artillery explode over the enemy, sending deadly shrapnel into the line. Two large holes are carved through the line, as the Deutsche unleash another volley. The constant pressure is enough to force the Saddlers back as Boyd’s brigade moves forward. As they march, the two Saddler regiments regroup and push again against their position, this time with two more regiments. July 5th, 4:37 pm As the battle rages on, both sides are becoming desperate to inflict the final blow the would determine the victor of the field. Ammunition began to run low, resulting in a bayonet charge from Cruitz and McColt’s brigades; sweeping the enemy across their right flank. With Cruitz and McColt pushing from the right, Boyd pushes from the left almost encircling the enemy. General Aklim, realizing that he is trapped, prepares for a final push. He hopes to break through the Deutsche center. As he's about to give the order, a rider from the main Saddler force rides up to him. “General, message from General Haldedge. The main body has regrouped and is resupplying south of the border. You are to withdraw with your corps and rejoin them.” “Very well.” Slowly the Saddle Arabian force begins to withdraw from the fighting. Many were relieved to see that the Deutsche weren't pursuing them. Most likely because of low ammunition. The battered corps moves south about 15 miles to the border of Saddle Arabia. When they arrive at the main camp, they are praised for their glory and bravery on the field of battle. On the Deutsche side of the border, the main force finally arrives at Hausham. They begin deploying a couple of miles south of the city. Both sides now wait to see who will make the next move.