Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich

RM Vol 4: War – Chapter 34: Case Yellow (Day 12 – Well, that was fast.)

The war rages on. Shortly after the fall of Darscen, the EEF is ousted and pushed way back, barely holding onto the stretch of lands around Dunkirk. Cities and towns like Gravelines, Bergues, Ghyvelde, and Hondschoote are the last perimeter stations the EEF still have between them and the Belkan Armies. The fights surrounding these stations are heavy, and the reason why the Eruseans and Loyalists are still holding out is that they are throwing literal bodies at the Belkan problem. If there's a cookie for the number of times the Allied forces' body counts to reach the hundredth, a certain Shoggoth would have enough cookies for an entire day. Nevertheless, casting a river of blood doesn't mean the Allied forces can hold on forever. Ever so slowly, the Eruseans and Loyalists can feel their walls and resistance cracking by the seconds, not minutes, not hours. Too many lives have been lost, and the eyes of the common soldiers reflect the haunting visage of their dying friends and comrades. Desertions are common, though not really to the point of rampancy. The Allied soldiers can't ensure their own survival, trying to cross the bloody mile that separates them from the approaching Belkans. Stray bullets and shells from both sides have inadvertently hit the deserters, owing to the sheer amount of ordinance in the air at any given time.

Today, well, it's much like any other day for the Allied forces, being shot at is their middle name nowadays. The EEF though, they're facing another major push by the Belkans, one that will put an end to at least one of their perimeter stations around Dunkirk. The situation is dire as, unlike the EEF, the Belkans have full access to their aerial arsenal. Whether it's a precision strike or a bomb carpet, the Belkan Air Force is always there to provide for their Army peer.

After an F-1 Phantom drops a dozen bombs to fill up a trench line, a Belkan armor spearhead quickly seizes the opportunity. They press forward under sporadic retaliation fires and obliterate the remains of what used to be an Erusean blockade. The Panzergrenadiers, otherwise known dubbed as Tank Riders by the Eruseans that fought them, disembark from the Puma IFVs and commandeer the Erusean trenches. Unfazed by the mutilated corpses of their enemy, the Panzergrenadiers either start using the position against the Eruseans or move along the trench line and clear out the remaining opposition. It's in situations like this that the fully automatic fire offered by their G1 rifles truly shines.

For clearing trenches, the Belkan soldiers are trained in the technique of 'Walking fire'. During an assault advance, the soldier's weapon is supported by the sling over the shoulder, or to be fired from the hip. The 'Walking fire' technique remedies the disadvantage of long-barrel weapons like the G1 while still giving a Belkan infantry the benefits of fast target acquisition and overwhelming firepower at the press of a trigger. It should be no surprise that the Panzergrenadiers dispatch the remaining Eruseans easily with these advantages. When their immediate threats are taken care of, the Panzergrenadiers focus on fortifying their positions with aid from the Pumas they arrived in and some Leopard MBTs. Thanks to prior SEAD flights, an Osprey flies in overhead. Hovering above the Panzergrenadiers' location, the Osprey detaches parcels that are sling-loaded underneath it. These parcels land heavily on the ground, enough to kick up some dust even with the Osprey beating first up everywhere. As the Osprey flies away, some Panzergrenadiers move to unload the parcels, thus revealing them to be heavy bulletproof barricades, fitted with firing positions. They soon carry these barricades and place them along the trench line, increasing the protection level for their recently bombed position.

Right when the Panzergrenadiers finish reinforcing their location, however, they're notified of an enemy attack wave coming their way. This is shocking, as by now, the Eruseans already know better than to advance through a killing field for an unsupported offensive. What happened at Arras was a glaring example of what would happen. Yet, surprise surprise, they really stick to their path of doom. The Panzergrenadiers don't know who will be attacking them, and frankly, they don't care. If they walk and shoot at you then they're the enemy, no matter the color of their coats.

Minutes later, the Belkans lay eyes on their attackers. Brown coats, Territorials with some armor supports. The Belkan MBTs and IFVs, already in a hull-down posture, turn their turrets and engage first. The crackle and booming of autocannons and smoothbore guns can be heard on the repeat. Panzergrenadiers, knowing better than to eat stray ejections from their armored companies, keep their heads low with their eyes looking through their sights. To conserve ammo, most of the Panzergrenadiers opt to wait. However, the marksmen and markswomen among them take a shine on targeting the enemy officers or leaders. The reports of their G1s are drowned by the sound of the heavier vehicular weapons.

Having the undisputed range advantage over the Eruseans, the Belkans face little to no return fire. .303 Erusea bullets fail to hit or dent the fortified positions of the Panzergrenadiers. Even the Territorials' 2-pounder anti-tank gun crews find their shots, those that land on target at least, shattering or bouncing harmlessly against the composite armor of the Belkan AFVs. Once again, it's a disheartening sight for the Allied forces.

Of course, the Eruseans ain't that stupid. When their AT guns failed to gain a worthy purchase on Belkan armor, the Territorials decided on a smoke-covered charge. Similar to what Frankforce did at Arras, the Territorials wish to use their superior numbers and squash this Belkan staging area at its infancy. The Belkans only have two Platoons of armor vehicles at best with some infantry protection. Clearly, with thousands strong, the Erusean Territorials should be able to dislodge, if not crush their enemy, right?

In the right circumstance, this particular Belkan detachment will have reasons to fear the Territorials. They do have a finite amount of munitions, after all. Killing thousands of Eruseans is hard with their Echelon-level of firepower unless they call in help from elsewhere to speed the process along.

Then, amidst the sounds of Erusean battle cries and, weirdly enough, bagpipes, the familiar screeching of Belkan supremacy makes itself known.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT

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"PIETT, YOU FOOL!!!" Lord Gort tears the military transcript into many pieces before tossing them all in a fireplace. "Bloody wanker might have just doomed us all!"

The entire room falls silent at Lord Gort's outburst. Having convened a staff meeting to address the current battlefield situation, what Lord Gort revealed to them has been... Alarming, to say the least. Lord Goth tries to take a deep breath, his face flushed from anger, before saying.

"Piett acted on his own, bringing with him most of the Territorials on the Eastern flank to attack Belkan positions. We all know that his move is the epitome of stupidity, that it will fail and we will lose men and materials needlessly. It doesn't change the fact that there exists a gap in our defense around Dunkirk now, something that needs to be fixed immediately. Hondschoote was Piett's responsibility, due to the delay in information, we have no idea how far the Belkans have pushed through that aisle, left open by his ridiculous offensive. So..." Lord Gort turns to General Franklyn. "Franklyn, I need you to take your Frankforce and shore up our Eastern side. There's no need to get to Hondschoote, just advance as far as possible to create a buffer zone between Dunkirk and the enemy. Take the Highlanders with you, they're the only well-equipped unit I can spare."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Seeing the General nod grimly, Lord Gort continues after breathing out tiredly.

"I know that some of you are feeling discontent with the decision to stage a retreat back to Erusea, especially the ones who have just gotten here. It's a tactical and strategic failure of the Kingdom in recent events, transporting you all expressly to here, only to have you all boarding the boats to be shipped back. Worse, we will have to ditch all our heavy equipment on the trek back home. Those are taxpayers' money, some of which hasn't been used a single time. Yet, all of them will be up for grabs by the Belkans if we don't destroy them somehow. Tanks, and artillery, are things that will be in short supply as we, in our infinite wisdom, have ferried them to Dunkirk for a battle that's destined to lose."

Lord Gort massages his face before sighing.

"The Kingdom will have my head for this, and I will accept my fate with open arms. However, I must ask you all to see past my failings and do you all, and the Royal Crown, a favor. Get these men back home. Use any means necessary, and buy as much time as you can, we need our soldiers to board those Royal Navy ships. War materials can be replaced, but Erusea can't stand if there's no one left to fight for her. Am I understood?"

Instead of a chorus of replies, the officers inside the room with Lord Gort salute at once.

"Good. I will be supervising the construction of additional piers if anyone needs me. Dismiss, and God save the King!"

"GOD SAVE THE KING!"