"There, out there, see it?"
"No, I don't see 'it', you idiot. Newbie." The other private grunted, dropping back into the bunker, the nice, warm, bunker. Frozen tundra, woodlands, and abandoned houses, thats what was out there. Ever since 1200 and something, that was what most of northern Europe looked like. A frozen patch of culture, the past.
The first private, Thomas Riggs, peered into the flurry of snow, sure that he saw something. It wasn't a human, it was larger, beyond the tree-line. It was like a monster, a vile filth from the bowels of hell. Making sure, Private Riggs dropped back from the vision slit, and slid the cover back into place. The 10th British Regiment had hated the posting in Germany, right on the Oder. Most German regiments were tanks, walkers, or aircraft. Rely on France and Britain for the foot-soldiers. The Oder was actually behind them, so technically they were in Poland, but the EU didn't care. "Defend your brother countries" was their cry, and every man had answered. The forests of firs, pines, and hundreds of other trees were scattered before his bunker, half-hidden in the flurrying snow. Mid-day was about to come, but the thick cloud cover hid every trace of light.
The bunker was a eight-man affair, with two ports to look out to the winterland of Poland. Shaped like the letter B, it was one of many emplacements along the Oder River line, supported by artillery, rockets, aircraft, mechanized units, and hundreds of other troops in the rear. Luckily, there was a small town behind their lines, with an internet link to London. He enjoyed talking to his girl.
"Bunker 106, report," the captains voice was on the bunker radio, calling in for some reason. Captain Rutherford "Ruff" Young was tough, reliable, fair, and bold. Three weeks before, he had stolen into the PAC sentry base, killed five, abducted two, and captured several important documents. One was the supply dossiers for ammunition, fuel, batteries, and a couple other lists of materials. For war.
"Cold, calm, nothing to report."
"Your sure private?"
"Yes he's sure, sir." The other private, Private Jacob spoke up, looking over at Riggs with the 'don't contradict me' stare.
Nodding, Private Riggs turned back to his thoughts.
Ten minutes later, the very earth shook.
"What the hell was that?" Private Jacob spoke, shaking himself awake from the bunker step.
Stepping up to the slip, Private Riggs pulled back the slit cover.
Outside of their bunker, the trees shook. They rattled and moved, and then, like the beast of old, was a PAC walker.
"Crap." Private Riggs said, as the walker turned to face his bunker.
With a thunderous roar, four rockets spiraled from the launch tubes, blowing the bunker apart.
The town of Kiewiecz was empty of civilians, full of soldiers. The Pan-Asian Coalition had broken through the Oder sentry line, three battalions of infantry and at least eight walkers and three tanks, plus three more APCs. Captain Young had warned his colonel about the PAC, and their attacks. However, Captain Young was shrugged off, in favor of EUIA intelligence about a PAC attack along the northern coast, by means of the strong ice sheets along the shore. The Baltic Sea was essentially an icy desert, flat and cold.
Now, the PAC battalions were pushing in on Kiewiecz, and the only support was a mechanized battalion across the river. They wouldn't get here in time.
"Fire support shift right, APC, APC!" Captain Young ordered, watching three PAC APCs rumble up the road. The PAC troops had been probing the town, and the second line of defenses. PAC commanders didn't understand the word blitzkrieg, and this one probably couldn't even spell it. He was hesitant, not willing to commit to much in a single blow. Young would make him pay with every passing second.
"On my command, Roger, Frenchie, unload your rockets on their turrets, wheels. Support gunners, give Henry cover fire after rockets fire. On my command." Young spoke on his inter-regiment radio, the others dead in the forward sentry posts.
Five lights blinked on his headset, the men acknowladging their orders.
A few seconds past, as the three APCs rumbled along the road, and then the dull whump of the road mine. It ripped the lead APC apart.
"Fire," Young ordered.
Smokey trails of fire spewed from two posts on either side of the pasture on the road-side, smashing into the side of the two APCs. More followed, smashing the APC apart. BAUR H-AR assault rifles opened up, filling the air with lead, and Henry rushed the lead APC. Carrying a couple explosives, he threw them onto the rear APC, aiming for turrets, grenade ports, and the rear door. Then he threw himself onto the pasture, and pressed the detonate button. With a thunderous roar, the APC blew apart, flames gushing from the ports. The PAC soldiers threw themselves out of the APC, and were filled with tungsten and lead rounds from the BAUR and SCAR rifles. Another round of rockets pummeled the last, and that one exploded a second after the rear APC.
A few minutes later, an EU armored column allowed him to evacuate across the Oder, and into Germany.
