Latest News «
Submit News «


Articles «
Comics «
Journal Entries «
Squad Reviews «
Rat Profiles «


Infantry Bootcamp «
Creating A Squad «
Maps & Radio «
FAQ «
Dictionary «


Official Forums «
Chat Room «


Previews «
Screenshots «
Book Listing «
Equipment Specs «
Links «


Feedback «
Site Info «
Link to Us «

"Philippeville Patrol "
by Dagger

The sounds of a distant battle reached me over countless miles. I lay in agony, wondering when I might join my comrades in battle again. I was suffering from numerous ailments including several cracked ribs, a mild concussion, and blood loss from the gash in my leg. Any hopes of returning to battle seemed far off.

The rollover was a mistake that might have been easily avoided. Unfortunately mistakes cost lives, and the life of our commander was no exception. How he loved the wind in his hair...

As I lay there, strength returning, I noticed a change in the once consistent sound of shell impacts and machine gun fire. A deafening silence breached the hospital walls. Philippeville was only a stone's throw from Flavion, the source of most of our aggravation. If Flavion fell, Philippeville was next to go. After more silence and careful consideration, I roused my crew and gained enough enthusiasm to run a patrol to Flavion.

As we approached the recently repaired A13, we all noticed something missing. The radio antenna had been crushed in the rollover, and rendered unusable. We all climbed into the tank, resolved to complete our mission, radio or no. Our driver, Willem, revved the engine with a triumphant roar as I tested the mobility of the turret. We pulled out of the garage slowly, but it did little to raise our spirits. The suspension on the A13 is negligible, and moving at all is akin to rolling down a hill in a steel drum. My ribs screamed in pain as my body was rocked repeatedly against the seat. Our new commander stuck his head out the hatch and scanned the horizon. He pointed East, and so we traveled, beating a path out of Philippeville following the winding road, creeping ever closer to Flavion.

The road winds through a small woodland area separating Flavion from Philippeville. Many an ambush has been set here by both sides, and many an ambush has been dreadfully effective. We rolled cautiously down the road, and I continually scanned the surrounding territory as the forest is lush, and cover abundant at this time of year. Surprisingly, we passed through unmolested and stopped in the middle of a four-way intersection. The new commander paused, scrutinized our surroundings and told Willem to turn right. The path to the right lead straight to Flavion, but was much more dangerous than the road we just put behind us. It curved off to the North and ran along the side of the forest. If someone was waiting for us, we would be dead before we spotted them.

Willem dropped the A13 into gear and whipped us around to the right. We crept down that road for what seemed like an eternity, paying careful attention not to run into the drainage ditches and fences bordering the road. As we approached the bend to the North, a halftrack loaded with soldiers burst around the corner and ran off-road, creating a shortcut around the edge of the woods to the road on the other side. Willem was the first to spot them and threw us into a ditch and through the rough terrain beyond. I brought the turret around to bear, but before I could fire, the new commander yelled, "Wait! They haven't spotted us yet. Wait till we get closer. We're cut off from the rest of our forces, so don't screw this up! We've got to get them... NOW!"

It seemed as though an eternity passed as Willem closed the gap between the halftrack. It loomed ever larger in my reticle, and my trigger finger itched. We almost lost it around the side of the woods when I couldn't stand it any longer. I launched a shell across their field of view hoping that they might turn and provide an easier shot, but the driver was made of sterner stuff, and stayed his course. He soon vanished behind the cover of the forest before I could line up another shot. Willem gave that poor A13 everything it was capable of. We erupted from behind our cover and I showered the troops in the back with machinegun fire. An entire ammo belt later, everyone was still in one piece and the halftrack had nearly reached the road, which now ran perpendicular to our path. Swearing to myself I screamed at Willem to stop so I could line up a decent shot.

Soon we were as stationary as possible and I squeezed the trigger. The shell went high, passing over the halftrack and spraying its passengers with mud and debris. The loader frantically shoved another round into the barrel. No sooner had he closed the chamber had I fired again. Wide to the left, elevation was just right. Then, without warning, a scream from our commander was followed quickly by a jolting explosion. His body, slumped into the tank, and we were slammed by a shockwave. A Stuka circled overhead as we lay broken next to a bomb crater. Willem was bleeding from shrapnel taken through his viewport, and I hit my head on the side of the turret. We sat in shock for a moment as we regained our wits. The wounds would be fatal, but we weren't dead quite yet.

The halftrack had completed its dash to the road and was gaining speed with every passing second, racing against time to the crest the hill. I mustered the energy to fire again and another shot skimmed just over the driver as he passed behind a hedgerow. I only had time for one more shot before he would be gone, and Philippeville lost. I lined up the final shot at the top of the hill. The halftrack passed through a gap in the cover just long enough for me to note his location. I squeezed the trigger and the shell seemed to fly in slow motion as it covered the ground to the top of the hill where it tore through the bushes, results left unseen to all except the targeted.

Willem wasted no time and thrust into gear, launching us up the hill as fast as the crippled A13 was capable. Yet, as we crested the hill, visions of revenge and failure were replaced by shock and amazement. The round had passed through the drivers seat and into the engine block, removing any hope that the hapless passengers ever thought they had. The passengers themselves were nowhere to be seen, however. Willem rolled up onto the road where he slumped over the controls dead. We sat in the open road, exposed to all the world, a derelict hulk of former greatness. It was only then that I noticed movement in the bushes. The infantry had taken refuge in the grass. I zeroed in on one soldier and sprayed the area with molten lead. At the sound of the machine gun, the other two soldiers broke their cover and attempted to run away. I caught one of them before he could get off his knees, and the other was gunned down before he completed his first step. I let out a roar of laughter, sealing our victory as the last of my life slipped slowly, slowly away.