Battle Earth VI

Chapter 10

Taylor was glad to see Gallo waiting for them when they landed at the Major's base. A broad grin span across his face, and he had organised a welcoming party for the Battalion, including the Mayor of Naples. Taylor would have welcomed a rest, but appreciated the effort that had been made. He stepped out first from the copter to a round of applause from the several hundred-strong crowd, waving Italian, American, and British flags at them.

"This is Mayor Manciolino of Napoli."

Taylor shook his hand and put on a smile, but he felt more than a little awkward. They had secured victory over the enemy, for now.

"It is an honour to have such a distinguished officer here, thank you," said the Mayor.

Taylor nodded and couldn't think of anything to say.

"You must be hungry. The Mayor has prepared a meal for you and your troops here this evening."

That's the first good thing I've heard, he thought.

He couldn't see any way of continuing on. The crowd blocked them in against the copters.

"Mayor, your welcome is much appreciated, but you must excuse us. The men and women of this Battalion have fought hard and lost friends. What they need right now is some peace and quiet to recover. My apologies."

"No, Colonel, my apologies for keeping you. We welcome you back to our city and look forward to seeing you all this evening."

He turned around and shouted with a booming voice for the crowd to clear. They parted in seconds and let the troops through. Gallo leapt to Taylor's side to walk with him.

"Good to see you made it."

"Thanks, have you had any enemy contact since we've been gone?"

"Little, a couple of encounters. Colonel Harney left a company here to deal with them."

"So did you see any action?"

"I saw the enemy, called it in, and the Colonel's marines dealt with it."

Taylor could hear the sound of disappointment in his voice.

"Trust me, you didn't miss anything. Your time will come to face those things, and you won't long for it a second time."

He could see Gallo didn't believe him, but there was only one way to convince him otherwise, and that would be the hard way.

"How many did you kill?" asked Gallo.

"I don't know, not enough."

"You are here to help train us now. We couldn't hope for better mentors."

"Really? Are those our orders?" he asked.

"I believe so. We have been told to expect this equipment you use by the end of the week, and we are to follow a training regime as organised by yourself to see we are fit for combat."

"Mmm," Taylor muttered.

He'd looked forward to taking it easy for a while, not training near raw recruits, but it was hard to put down the Major who spoke with such fire and enthusiasm.

"You must need time to prepare for the grand meal which has been planned for you."

The idea of scrubbing up and having to look presentable for the Mayor doesn't seem all that rewarding for the work we’ve done, but who am I to refuse?

"We'll be there, Major."

Gallo responded with a smile before splitting off a happy spring in his feet.

"God save us," whispered Taylor sarcastically.

They reached their billets to find they were exactly as they had left them, though beyond their positions more accommodation had been assembled for whoever was to join them. Jones strode up to him.

"All this talk of amassing forces for a big push over the water. I only hope they understand quite what it will take to make any headway, and not get driven back into the sea."

"I think the World leaders will understand after they see what is going on at Jerusalem. We'll need hundreds of thousands of soldiers to win this war, let alone all the logistics and support staff that goes with it."

"Support staff, fucking MPs then."

"Inevitably."

"That's all we bloody need."

"A necessary evil."

"Sometimes, and just sons of bitches the rest."

Taylor had to laugh.

A grand marquee had been assembled for their evening celebration, and it was lit up as the sun went down. Taylor stepped out of his billet wearing a clean set of BDUs. It was a long way from appropriate for such a function, but the best he could muster. Parker joined him andthey walked towards the festivities.

"Feels good, doesn't it, to be able to enjoy an evening once more? You take it for granted until war comes around again," she said.

"Can't say I'm having much fun yet."

"You will."

He turned to see she was utterly confident of the fact, and that did boost his spirits a little. They walked hand in hand through the darkness until they came into the floodlights of the marquee and quickly let go.

Guards from Gallo’s unit stood at the entrance in their finest uniforms. They looked more like model soldiers than real ones, which he knew they pretty much were. They saluted across their chests with rifles held on the other arms. He was being given an excessive amount of attention and respect that was starting to bore him, but Mitch couldn’t see anyway to stop it.

As he entered the marquee, the music stopped, and the Mayor introduced him. He could tell the man had already drunk a good amount before the food had been served.

“Welcome to the brave Colonel Taylor! It is an honour for him to be with us this evening!”

Taylor waved off the Mayor and continued onwards to more familiar faces. The officers of Inter-Allied shared a table, and that meant leaving Parker at the door to find her own way. It saddened him to leave her on their night of celebrations, but he knew they had to maintain the divide between officers and the rest. It was a fact Jones was all to keen to remind him of.

“Come on, Mitch, join the exclusive club!”

He could already tell Jones had been necking wine for the last hour or more.

Wine? I’d kill for a beer.

As he approached, Charlie held out a glass of red for him. With the heat of the country and thick air, he wanted nothing more than something chilled, but he knew it had all been provided for them. He took the glass and turned to the Mayor, lifting his glass in gratitude.

Taylor knocked back a mouthful of the wine, and despite it being an ambient temperature red, it went down smoother than expected. It was soothing and warm, which was somehow comforting and relaxing despite the heat of the day.

“Just wait till the port comes!” yelled Charlie.

“Port?” asked Eddie. You decadent bastard!” he laughed.

Jones smiled and fully embraced the decadent nature of it.

He took a seat at the table and noticed the smell of the food being brought to the tables. It was fresh and oozing in flavour. They had returned to wartime conditions so quickly, but it had been a stark reminder of what they now had to endure. The prospect of a real meal was an immensely appealing idea even after a few days of MREs.

“Ahh, pasta!”

He knew exactly what Charlie meant and was starting to appreciate the occasion. In just fifteen minutes of good food and drink in a warm friendly environment, he began to see the lighter side of things and indulge a little. Halfway through the evening, the Mayor called for silence and stood up to address the people present.

His face was pinkish red and sweaty from the large volumes of wine and laughter. He wobbled slightly as he stood. That got a few laughs from the troops, which he also seemed to find funny. He started speaking to them in Italian but stopped himself halfway through his second sentence, realising their guests had no clue as to what he was saying.

"On behalf of our city, and our country, I wish to thank Colonel Taylor and the 2nd Inter-Allied. They have fought for many years for our safety and lands. For which ever country they fought in, whichever continent and even in space, they fought for us all."

Gallo was the first on his feet to clap and cheer. But speaking of the previous war was a reminder of how much work was to come, and how much more blood would spill. Many of the other Italians joined in the applause, but Taylor's people managed little more than a lazy clap. Manciolino called for quiet and could barely get any more words out, as he scoffed down half a glass of wine and held the other half up to a toast.

"To our friends and allies!"

It gained a round of applause but most were more interested in knocking back their drinks. He finally slumped back down to his seat.

"We're going to feel this in the morning," said Taylor.

"Yep, we sure are. But it's those poor devils who will be worst off," replied Jones, pointing to Gallo and his troops. "Tomorrow we start to train them."

Taylor smiled, thinking of the drunken Italians having to slog through his training drills the following morning. Drills he would let his own people forgo to rest from their recent duties. He got to his feet and was pleased to find he wasn't as far gone as some of the others. He walked over to Gallo who reached over to hug him. The short Italian struggled to do so, which only made him laugh.

"You said we'll be training you?" Taylor asked.

"Yes, and an honour it will be!"

"I hope you're ready then, 0800 hours we begin."

Gallo stood back with a puzzled expression. He looked as if someone had just cancelled the party.

"Surely not? This is a time for celebration. We have plenty of time to learn!"

"And if the enemy launch an offensive tomorrow? They start making raids against our landing zones, and we need to fight them off, what would you do?"

"But they won't. We have them boxed in."

"You think so? You think the enemy is completely predictable? Then you know nothing. 0800 hours, Major, have your troops formed up on the parade ground."

He turned and walked away, leaving Gallo speechless. Captain Grey had been watching and was clearly as sober as a judge.

"That was harsh," he said as Taylor walked by, causing him to stop.

He studied the Captain for a moment and was curious that he was not partaking in the festivities.

"Yes it was, but they need to be ready ASAP. No wine, Captain?"

"No, I saw a whole platoon in my regiment killed because they got into a liquor shop and went too far. Somebody needs to stay alert round here."

"There are sentries posted."

"Yes, but not ours. Theirs," he said, pointing to the Italians who were leaping around and making jokes with each other.

"Then you understand my position?"

Grey nodded. They both had to concede that the other was right.

"You haven't told any of us about this training tomorrow. I assume that means you were intending to do it yourself?"

"Yes, let our people have some time out."

"I'll join you. You need a task master, and that's just what I have done for my whole life."

"But you are an officer now."

"No excuse to drill them any lighter. I wasn't born an officer. Hell, I never asked to be one."

"But you've done a damn fine job of it."

"It's just the job of a sergeant with snazzier uniforms and better pay."

Taylor laughed and nodded in agreement. He'd always had respect for the senior NCOs of his unit, and most others he had met.

"You can join me, if you like. The help would certainly be appreciated."

"I will join you also."

Taylor recoiled slightly in shock to see Jafar standing behind them."

"Jesus."

"You see what I mean," added Grey. "I bet Jafar he couldn't get to within knife distance without you spotting him."

Taylor nodded humbly. It was a harsh lesson the Captain had played on him, and had it been almost anyone else, he'd have been less kind about it. Jafar still awaited his answer.

"Yeah, you'll be damn useful tomorrow. Can you get access to a Mech suit to use for training?"

"Yes," he replied confidently.

"Then it's a date. Time to shake these Italian boys up and get them into fighting shape."

Taylor looked at his watch. 0800 hours on the dot, and he could see Gallo staggering towards them. His face was pale, and he looked like he got gotten no more than two or three hours sleep. A hundred of his battalion followed him to the drill square. Grey was shaking his head at the display before them.

"Form up!" he yelled.

It was a booming voice that even Taylor couldn't manage.

They shuffled into a vague order, which Grey wasn't impressed with at all.

"Stand up straight!" he shouted.

Taylor lifted his hand to stop the former Sergeant Major before he reverted to old ways and tore them apart for their slack behaviour. Mitch continued.

"I am not here to be your drill sergeant, and I am not here to be your friend. I am here to make you the best you can be in a fight. To give you the best chance of survival in face of the enemy!"

He turned away and walked a few paces back to a doorway of one of the vehicle storage bays that surrounded the grounds. He hit the entry switch, and the door slid open, revealing a rack of Reitech equipment.

"I have ten suits here. These are spare units carried for our Battalion, so look after them. You may use them until your own arrive. I want ten volunteers!"

Despite their drunken and hung-over state, a flurry of volunteers stepped forward, eager to get their hands on the equipment they had all desired since first setting eyes on it. Mitch grabbed the remote for the dolly rack the equipment lay on and drove it out on the parade ground, pointing for the first ten who had come forward to continue.

They set on the gear like locusts and were quickly strapping themselves in. Many of those still standing watched, yawning and swaying from the lack of sleep and excessive drinking. The volunteers were ready within a few minutes, but as yet had no weapons. Taylor reached down to the dolly and pulled out what looked like the Assegai they carried.

"This is a training version of the Assegai. Same weight and size, but it uses an electric shock through your opponent. It will hurt a human, and even drop them to the ground if it hits bare flesh. To a Mech it will shock them for a second or two."

He passed out the training weapons and then walked over to another door. He hit the button, and it slid open almost causing a heart attack to half of the Italians. A full armoured Mech stood in the entrance. It was the closest they had ever been to one, and they were speechless.

"Don't worry, our own Jafar is at the controls. This is all part of the training exercise. Well, maybe you should worry."

Jafar stepped out into the daylight and stood with Taylor, who even though wore a Reitech suit, was half the size.

"The standard Mech suit is as heavily armoured as light reconnaissance vehicles and some APCs. Only well aimed close range fire can harm them with your current weapons. We soon learned in the first war that what you are using now simply isn't up to the job. I will not teach you how to fight the enemy with your old gear. It would be a waste of time."

"Colonel?" asked Gallo.

"What is it, Major?"

"This is a war of guns, bombs, and artillery, yet you teach us first to fight with, well, a sword."

Several of the Italians sniggered at the response, but Taylor didn't see the funny side of it.

"If you do go to war against this enemy, there will come to a time when you have to face them without a firearm. You mightbe out of ammunition, or not able to change your magazine in time. You may need to take them down quietly. Do not be under any illusions. This weapon was created out of necessity and experience. Think of it as equivalent to the bayonet."

"A what?" joked one of the Italian volunteers.

Taylor strolled up to the man. He looked down for his name, but it had been covered by the Reitech armour. He didn't care.

"You’re pretty confident for a man who's never had to face an enemy in battle. I wonder if the hundreds of thousands of young men and women killed in the wars with these aliens shared your same confidence when they met their end?"

The man did not reply.

"This is an enemy who should never be underestimated. The 2nd Inter-Allied have become expert at taking them on, and are now able to punch far greater than their weight would suggest, but that didn't come easy! We lost many friends to get to this point. We are here to help you the easy way so that you may not have to lose lives unnecessarily as a learning curve."

The man swallowed his pride and finally responded.

"Sorry, Sir."

"You will be if you aren't ready when your time comes. For now, you have volunteered yourself to go first. What's your name?"

"Rizzo, Sir," he said cautiously, as he looked at Jafar standing in the hulking Mech suit.

He handed one of the Assegai trainers to the man.

"The Mechs carry large weapons and may try to swing them at you at close quarters, but they are unwieldy. They are more likely to drop their weapons and use the power of their suit. Jafar will begin with open hands, whereas you have a weapon."

Rizzo seemed utterly shocked at the prospect of fighting the metal beast with such a small weapon and having to use his own hands.

"A real Assegai will push right through their armour like a cutting torch, but you have to place a good sturdy thrust into the armour. In this particular situation you, Rizzo, have the advantage. The Mech suit still has a lot of power, but with the Reitech equipment you have speed, flexibility, and a weapon which can bypass their armour entirely when used correctly."

Taylor moved back and gestured for the others to do so, spanning out in a crescent shape to watch. Rizzo's confidence seemed to vanish, as he stood alone against Jafar.

"I have instructed Jafar to simulate the fighting style of one of the common enemy soldiers. He will try to strike and fight as they could, and to minimise the risk of injury. However, be under no illusions, you are in danger."

"But you have not given us any training yet."

Taylor smiled back.

"A few minutes ago you were all too eager to get face to face with the enemy and prove your worth. Clearly, you think yourself up to the task. In order to win here, you must land a thrust into the torso or head armour."

Taylor lifted a shield from the rack and placed it on Rizzo's arm.

"Begin!"

The man formed a basic fighting stance as best he could. Jafar approached quickly and aggressively. Taylor could already see the Italians were shocked to see the strength and power of one of the aliens in action. Rizzo cowered behind the large shield, but Jafar struck him like a bull. Rizzo was launched off his feet and tossed through the air, landing on his back on the hard ground. The suit was all that saved him from spinal injury. The wind was knocked out of him, and he groaned in pain.

"Get up! Jafar may give you the opportunity for a second chance. The enemy will not!" yelled Taylor.

Grey watched on silently. He could see it was a lesson being taught brutally but effectively. Rizzo got to his feet and held the weapon before him. The Assegai was out in front, the blade protruding past the shield as he approached. Jafar swung quickly and smashed the blade with the claw of his armoured suit. The blade flew from Rizzo's grip.

Jafar followed it with a hammer blow from above. Rizzo lifted his shield to stop it, but the power smashed it down and dropped him onto his knees. Before he could recover, Jafar kicked under his shield into his chest, knocking him onto his back again and sent the shield hurtling across the ground with sparks flying up all around.

Rizzo tried to sit up, but Jafar stood on his chest armour and pinned him to the ground. He was helpless.

"Enough!" Taylor ordered.

Jafar released his hold and stood back from the stricken soldier. Taylor stepped forward and hauled him to his feet.

"The first thing you should see here is that you cannot treat this like you are fighting someone of roughly equal size and strength. This equipment has done wonders, but do not think for a minute that makes you equal. You must use speed and dexterity to overcome their mass and power."

He could see Rizzo was scornful for being shown up so badly. Taylor picked up the shield and Assegai the Private had dropped.

"Use the shield to approach safely against their weapons, and then to divert the energy of their strikes, not take it full on, not unless it is the only thing that will save your life."

He gestured for Jafar to come at him. His alien friend quickly responded and rushed at the Colonel with all the bullish speed and power he had used previously. Taylor stepped just a little off to the side and brushed off a heavy strike from Jafar with his shield, allowing him to tumble on past. As he did, Taylor thrust the Assegai under the shield into the gut.

The electric shock hit and momentarily incapacitated Jafar, sending him crashing face first onto the hard ground. The Italians looked on with shock. They had expected Jafar to give Taylor an easier go of it, but it was a brutal and short fight. Taylor knew Jafar had given it to him easy because he was a far better fighter than any normal alien soldier. He had none of the clumsiness he’d put on.

"You see, you are lighter, faster, and better if you use their strength against them and your own ability and weapons to your advantage. Rizzo was a perfect example of how much work is needed to get you into fighting shape. And so begins your real training."

Six months later.

The camp at Naples had expanded tenfold since they arrived, and it was just one of many such troop concentrations which had developed since the new war began. Taylor was walking back to the mess halls from morning exercises when a fresh armoured regiment rolled in. He stood and watched for a few minutes as dozens of armoured vehicles rolled on past. Many were brand new. Others were heavily modified and older. Eventually, he recognised one of the tank commanders on top of one of the vehicles passing him.

"Becker!"

Captain Lukas Becker, and in much better shape than when we last met.

The German Captain looked down and instantly knew Taylor. He spoke into his radio ordering his driver to pull over and out of the column.

"Colonel now?" he asked.

He jumped down from his tank and embraced Taylor with a hug. He could still never get used to such European mannerisms but accepted it as the sign of friendship it was.

"And you, still a Captain. I thought you'd be in charge of the regiment by now."

"I could have perhaps come close to it, but that is not the life for me. Let me worry about my own crew, and that'll do just fine."

"You must be one of the old men of the regiment now."

"Yes, a veteran of more battles than I care to remember, but not as many as you."

"Any news on when all this kicks off?"

"No, but it can't be long now. Every unit I have contact with has been moving to the southern coastline. You may be able to go by air, but much of our armour will have to go by sea."

"So will a lot of our infantry, I'm guessing. With this large a force, we simply won't have enough aircraft for everyone. I'm glad to see you made it through all this and are still fighting on. Last time I saw you, I thought you looked ready to pack it all in.”

"Yes, I was, but the enemy had other ideas."

"Well, I'm glad to have you with us."

"Likewise," he said, climbing back onto his tank.

"I'll see you around, Colonel."

He gave a casual salute as the tank rolled on to join the seemingly endless column. Jones appeared at Taylor's side and had just caught sight of Becker as he left.

"Sending German armour to North Africa? Didn't work so well last time."

Taylor had to laugh.

"I wouldn't remind him of that."

"We must be close now."

"Yep, I guess another day or two, and we'll be ready to move."

Just as he said it, a voice came over the loudspeakers mounted around the base.

"All senior officers report to the briefing room, immediately."

"I guess this could be it."

Taylor's hunger from a busy morning completely subsided at the realisation they might finally have news. They rushed to the large briefing room that had been established at the centre of the base. Over fifty officers had assembled, and Commander Phillips stood on the stage with several other higher-ranking officials. Chief among them was General Schulz. Taylor hadn't seen him since the first war had ended, but they seemed to have settled their differences back then. Schulz stood up to address them.

"At 2100 hours tomorrow Operation Freedom will begin. That is the operation to take the fight to the enemy!”

Cheers rang out. Few wanted to have to fight, but all wanted to see and know that an end was in sight. He lifted up his hand to call for silence.

“At 2100 hours the infantry forces stationed here, as well as along many other bases throughout the Mediterranean, will set off for designated landing sites in North Africa. Their deployment will be timed to land just hours before a massive beach landing of armour and additional forces. Be under no illusions, this will be the greatest military operation in the history of the World.”

The room fell silent as they took in his words.

“Operational details will be handled at Company and Battalion level and is being organised and dispersed presently. Tomorrow it all begins, and it does not stop until we have seized absolute victory. These bastards have occupied our lands long enough. Let’s take them back. I want all of you to rest easy tonight and be ready for the road that lies ahead. That’ll be all.”

They all exited the room in a stunned state. All thought of the day to come and knew they wouldn’t sleep that night.

“You really think this is it?” asked Jones.

“Yes. We’ve given those boys all the training we can. We have amassed all the forces we can. It’s time to move.”

“You think it’ll be enough.”

“Sure, why not? We fought the first war on their terms in their time. This time we do it on ours.”

The night passed slowly with little sleep for any of them. Everyone knew the time was nigh. Some hoped for a delay, but most wanted it to begin now. The fact they had to go to the enemy was certain. It was time to get it over and done with. When the sun rose, the camp was eerily quiet. There was no time left for training. They were the best prepared they could be.

At 2000 hours the megaphone sounded. The Battalion had been sitting in the warmth of the evening outside their billets, coffee and tea their only comfort.

"All personnel to begin boarding and prepare for take off."

Taylor looked down at his watch.

"The ships must already be at the coast by now."

"Then let's hope that armour gets ashore."

They had poured over intelligence gathered from the enemy positions for weeks and months, and now it was time to finally act.

I only hope we’re right about it all.

"Let's move!"

The order was carried on down the line, as the base was becoming a sudden hive of activity. He strode for Eddie’s copter, knowing the pilot was always waiting to be his personal pilot. It brought him a sense of security to have Eddie at the controls. They had been shot down and gone through hell together more than a few times, but they always survived.

As he climbed aboard, he looked down at his Mappad to study the area one last time. The allied landings would be taking place along the coast of Tunisia from Gabes to Tripoli, but their job was to go beyond in the largest airborne operation in history.