World in Conflict

[Marshal Murat]

Diary
November 23th, 1989.

Dearest Louise,

While my writing from the past week has been scarce, it was because we had to pull back into the Cascades, and dodging Commie helicopters doesn't leave much time for writing. In Nebraska, we didn't have these kinda mountains, and that was why I made us move to Seattle, just to see these snow-capped peaks. Now as we trek through the thick brush, I can understand why the Sierra Club loves these peaks. I found a nice little spot, on some mount, where we could build a cabin. Unfortunately, there is a burned-out M-1 Abram sitting in our front lawn, and a couple smoking Commie tanks nearby.

My first taste of command was a couple days ago. Sergeant Ippley was shot, and had to be taken back, and he later died. It was tough not having Ippley there, but we pulled through, and the men know what kinda leader I am. Hopefully I don't let them down. Anyway, we had an ambush situation. There were four platoons of infantry, and two Sheridan tanks. The Soviets, they have been pushing for weeks, driving into the mountains. Lieutenant Parker, he actually used a couple demolition pieces to drop an avalanche on a Commie convoy.
Well, the Soviet column had to drive along the river-bank, and we were deep in the woods. Well, the river curves around, and sitting in the blind spot we dug in the Sheridan tanks. The anti-tank infantry, we were spread out in the forest and across the river. Mutual support was what Ippley called it. I didn't care, I was a sergeant, not a lieutenant or anything.
So, we were set up in the forest, and the scouts reported the Commie 'Hormone' as we call it, circling with a thing of 'Hip' transport helicopters. Well, the Commies like to drop in infantry, with funny bright-blue berets. I got one, to show you, but anyhow, the Hormone finally landed right at the bend. Well, the Sheridan tanks were hidden, but the upper-ups got worried. Then the 'Hip' transports landed, and the Ivan troops disembarked, and got a perimeter set up.
We kept real still, and soon enough, Ivan drove up. He parked not a hundred yards from us. Well, he has all sorts of armor pieces. T-72s, BMDs, T-80s, and a company of infantry, all packed up in their transports. Well, since the Hormone helicopter hadn't gotten anything yet, they were going to sit there and then push on.

We didn't want to say anything, but the order was passed, by mouth, to ready the rockets. Well, we did, and the Sheridan tanks readied a round. I thought we were going to wait for a artillery strike or bomb, or something. Nothing happened, but a couple of the Ivans walked out to take a piss.

The TOW rocket guys got spooked, like a Nebraska bronco, and let loose. All hell followed. The Soviet infantry guys, they were taken out first. The helicopters tried to take off, but we put a rocket into the engine or the drivers seat, stopped them dead. We were firing like mad, and the Soviets tried to pull out, but Corporal Emder, he got a round into the rear T-72, stopped up the whole column. Then the Commies tried to go forward, but they were blocked by a big-ole helicopter. So they tried to ford the river. Then the other platoons opened fire, and but not before the Ivans had gotten across. The destroyed vehicles, they started to leak gasoline, and sure enough the water was on fire.
Needless to say, I was having fun punching the snot out of the Ivans, when they started back to the woods. I expected a bunch of scattered sheep, but they were the paratroopers. Nasty brutish Ivans they were, so we had to use out M-16 and CARs, liberally, to pick'em off. I even got a TOW through a whole corporal, before it hit a tree and exploded. That knocked over a tree, smashing another two Ivans. I even saw a couple young guys in the Commie force, but they scattered like jackrabbits.

I hope to see you soon, I miss you.
Provost-Sergeant Johnathon Berara

[Marshal Murat]

French Water

Captain Pierre Daugas shifted in his seat. The combat flight over the English Channel was one few men enjoyed. Every day Soviet soldiers tried to use boats to either cross the English Channel, or skip around NATO front lines. Either way, the French Air Force had to stop them. Being the Weapons Control Officer on a Mirage was a thankless job, especially since he had to use the television to guide in missiles. Miles up and away, killing men with missiles.
"Hawkeye-Four, Hawkeye-Four, we have a disturbance off the coast of Netherlands. Check it out. Square Alpha-Alpha-Foxtrot-4-0-0-3, Over."
The British air force had a habit of reporting fishing dingies as Soviet Battleships. Captain Daugas knew that it was probably only a yacht or fishers boat, but he was obligated.
"Roger that Barn-Owl. Out."


The sea seemed to shake as several bombs struck the water. The 'disturbance' were actually several Soviet amphibious assault vehicles. Hundreds of fighters now circled above the rumbling sea, rockets threading across the skyline. Flares trickled down into the sea, where the Soviets were being hit.
"Hawkeye-Four, Hawk-eye Four, two landing ships moving out. Alpha-Beta-Beta. Out."
Captain Daugas slid into the goggles, using them to scan the rumbling, roiling sea. There they were.
"Fire."

[Marshal Murat]

Going to post another story, but I wanted to ask you guys a couple things.

1. How is the first person?
2. Is there anything I can do to improve?
3. Is there a particular series that you enjoyed?

[Marshal Murat]

Soviet invasion of the Cascade Mountains

"White-capped mountains flashed by, the lower heights covered in thick evergreen forests." Those were the words of one Soviet Ka-25 pilot.
The Cascade Range passes of the mountains had been open, allowing the steel pillars of Soviet might to shove into the deep rocky mounts of the Cascade Range. A recent storm, however, closed all but a couple of the mountain roads, slowing the Soviet offensive and bottlenecking their assault. The American defenders, using MLRS and 60mm mortars, they pummeled and blunted the Soviet armored forces. Then, using local knowledge and local superiority, American armored strikes quickly surrounded and annihilated the leading Soviet spearheads. The Communist army ground to a halt.

To revitalize the offensive, the Communist commanders shifted three VDV brigades and a DsPH brigade from the counter-insurgency operations to the southernmost pass, shadowed by Mount Emerson. This pass was one of the few open, and the American defenders had beaten back several infantry and mechanized assaults, using superior position on Mount Emerson to direct precision strikes and provide air cover against Mi-26V gunships. The reinforcements were then tasked with capturing the American positions.
The Americans, meanwhile, rested and re-supplied. Using any means of transportation, supplies were being poured into American bases, to be used against the numerically superior Communist forces. Mount Emerson was considered a secondary defensive position, since the northern passes were closer to Fort Teller. However, the position was an important position, and Lieutenant Parker had shifted a couple tanks and infantry companies to secure the position, and had also used the interlude to cut down the evergreens surrounding the position to give clear fields of fire. These reinforcements and the defensive measures by Lieutenant Parker probably prevented a swift Soviet capture of Mount Emerson, when they launched their assault.

Mount Emerson is one of the many glacier-formed mountains that are the Cascade Range. The mountain is a horseshoe in shape, with the rising crest forming into a rocky plateau at the bend of the mountain. The curved bowl was a lake, now frozen over in the winter. The two ends of the horseshoe were also anti-aircraft and infantry positions, to prevent the enemy from working up the road to the main American positions on the plateau. A colonel in the 22nd Infantry Brigade had called it ‘impregnable’, after his brigade was mauled by the artillery and mortars. He was almost proved correct.

This position had to be secured, however, and the four Red Army brigades tasked with this offensive began to prepare. Calling on the Soviet air forces, they prepared the assault force. The VDV brigades were still relatively unscathed. Unfortunately, a brigade of VDV and DsPH infantry was annihilated by the American forces at Pine Valley. These brigades, the 11th, 21st, and 9th VDV brigades and the 5th DsPH brigade, were organized under General Dmitri Polskasky, a veteran of the VDV drops into Fulda Gap and Hamburg.
General Polskasky realized the critical points on the assault on Mount Emerson were these. The two roads leading up to the main American positions were the key to re-supplying the MLRS and mortar teams. Second, the Americans, while enjoying air denial ability, were prevented by the rocky terrain and forests from maintaining a lock on the Soviet air elements. With these two items in mind, General Polskasky organized a plan of assault.

The operation was organized as such. The 11th VDV brigade would assault from the south, and cut the southern road. The 21st VDV brigade would secure the northern road, and the 9th VDV and the 5th DsPH would assault up the western slope, after the AAA weapons had extinguished their supplies. The operations were then to be supported by the 22nd Infantry brigade and 4th Mechanized Division, which would secure the American positions, and then use Mount Emerson for a control center.

When the assault kicked off on November 22nd, it went wrong quickly. The Ka-25 scout helicopters, meant to drop in the 11th and 21st VDV brigades, were unable to transport the bulk of the VDV forces. General Polskasky had to either take helicopters from the secondary assault, or he had to send in the brigades piecemeal. Oddly enough, General Polskasky decided that the brigades were to be dropped in piecemeal, and then sent in an assault on the roads.

As per a report by Private Dolmosky, the operations went as such.
“The Ka-25 helicopters were unable to take us all in, so my platoon was to be dropped in, followed by the 2nd and 3rd platoons, until we could mount an assault. Our drop-zone was screened, but only a couple hundred meters up the hill, there were American positions. As soon as we formed a skirmish line, were were subjected to intense small-arms and mortar fire. We quickly lost the sergeant, corporal, and several other privates. We were being ripped apart."

The American corporal, Arnold Hamhein, reported in his journal of the first Soviet paratrooper assaults.
"The Commies landed within the mortar range. They used those squat helicopters. Flew in low, so the radar units couldn't pick them up. The Abrams tanks were called in, to take them out. There weren't as many Soviets as we thought, especially after the amount of enemy pulled out of counter-guerrilla operations in the south. We were told brigades, not platoons."

As the VDV brigades were slowly being lifted in, the American forces were, as Corporal Hamhein reported, bringing in Abrams and Sheridan tanks to support the infantry positions. The Soviet commanders had calculated the VDV would be in place to prevent any armored reinforcements. However, the American tankers swiftly took up position, preparing to open up with HE rounds.

Lucky for the Soviets, at least one VDV commander possessed situational awareness, calling in smoke shells. They quickly obscured the Soviet forces, and the shells continued to fall, preventing the accurate suppressing fire that had decimated the earlier drops. The American tanks tired to open fire with their HE rounds, but they only injured a few soldiers. The men were dropped in, and mortars, RPG soldiers readied, and the VDV soldiers prepared for an assault. Both prongs of the assault then began their assault.
Charging up the mountain flanks, the Soviets soon began to take losses befitting a sudden human assault. The American forces, now given targets and height, began to take advantage. Snipers picked off leaders and radio men, who were trying to call in artillery strikes. Two tanks began spewing shells filled with glass and steel nails. Soviet soldiers fell in droves. Many of the Soviets dug in with spades, and called in another artillery barrage.

[Tran]

The title can't be missed

Nice story, telling from first person perspective is good. However, you might also want to tell story from the third-person perspective.

While it is interesting to hear story of soldiers from the front-line (battlefield), you might also want to tell about what actually happen within both Kremlin and White House. Political decisions, plot, commander briefing, hidden agenda, secret deal, conspiracy (might be ), and such, therefore the audience know more and get the "bigger picture" about the situation. You can also tell about story from both navy and air force view (sailors and pilots)

Also, I am kind of confused with the timeline in the story, are they supposed to take place long after the other? For example in Orange-12 Alpha, was the martial law took place long after the war ended, or was it took place when the war still raging on? (AFAIK, Paris and other French cities were captured by the Soviets some time during the 'game')

Well, that's just my opinion. I like "what-if" Cold War and WW3 hyphotethical scenarios. Try to put the story in your signature, maybe that'll attract more people's attention?

[Marshal Murat]

Thank you for the feed-back.
Definitely going to try some different story-lines and perspectives.

Orange Alpha removed.

[Marshal Murat]

Rouen Horatii

I was tired. Every bone from my heel to skull, it ached. My ballistics helmet was still strapped on, but it was worthless. The steel and ceramics had taken more than it's fair share of bullets and shrapnel. My head felt like it was splinting apart. My body was wet from head to foot, the chill slowly sinking in. But it was worth it. I did it. A Humvee pulled up, along the muddy riverbank. Already, the Soviets were counter-attacking. There were some even attempting to hit him. Well they would try to hit me. The green-brown soldiers seemed to rise from the ground. The .50 cal. gun on the Humvee opened fire, and I could hear the bullets zip and crack. The medics leapt out, pulling the stretcher apart. I heard a bullet thump into the mud-bank. Then, as the medics hit me with morphine. I felt myself going to sleep, eyes closing, darkness descending. And I smiled all the way back to the aid station.


"Goddamn it, Delta-Jupiter, where is my fire support?" I listened in on the company net, sitting high in my Apache helicopter. The Warsaw Pact forces had been pushing into France, riding high on a steel wave. Now, as they were driving in on the Seine, Rouen their target. My helicopter unit was assigned air-support.
"This is Lumber Six, requesting Hound-Epsilon-Longbow-Iroquois strike, Square 4-4-1-2 Foxtrot. Target Mu-Beta-Tango, out." My radio crackled, and my pilot slowed the rotors to drop the Apache gunship. Overhead, two Mirage jets streaked across the blue sky. They were on the way to deliver a napalm strike. Bloody Soviets. I looked around, using both my television screen and infra-red scanner. Then I saw the site.
Hundreds of Soviet soldiers, tens of BMDs, T-80 tanks, all like black ants in a roiling smoke cloud. The IR scanner, it showed what he was looking for. The Soviet Main Battle Tanks, driving into the American position. They had hoped to avoid the TOW weaponry, using smoke to obscure their positions. Not their heat signatures.
Unlocking the missiles took only a couple seconds, and the missiles streaked straight and true. They were ripped apart. The chain-guns roared and grumbled, copper shells tingling in the sunlight. I launched more rockets, exhaust streaking across the screen. Flying over, the other Apache helicopters launched their payloads. Then away, flying high over the roiling smoky boil that were the American forces, defending the bridge against Soviet columns.
"Lumber Six to Delta-Jupiter. Withdraw across the bridge."
"Captain, we got the Commies on the run! That heli strike broke their assault!."
"Delta-Jupiter, we transmit in code. You are ordered to withdraw. Across. The. Bridge. Laser-bomb strike will destroy bridge. Out."
My Apache lifted itself higher, rockets almost entirely expended. I looked around. My entire group had expended the rockets. Now we circled, waiting to be replaced. Every strike required another helicopter shift, and Lumber Six, Command & Control, they had two more squadrons waiting to replace my squadron.

"Lumber Six, the demolitions were duds. Soviets massing for another attack. Request fire support." Delta-Jupiter called across.
"Negative, we have no support for you."
"Lumber Six, I suggest you find me support, or we are losing this bridge!" Delta-Jupiter had yelled into his set. I watched from high, the steel bridge stood. Rouen was now a gushing behemoth of fires and black smoke. I had already seen several Blackhawks swerve across the landscape, followed by Little Birds. The Rangers were blowing the bridges across the Seine, to stop, or slow the Soviets. I couldn't agree more, and as the Delta-Jupiter soldiers, regular GIs, tried to blow the bridge, the Soviets poured in.

"Squadron, we need to blow that bridge. Use rockets, anything. Hit the bridge." I ordered over the squad vox. They followed me in, striking the bridge with the remaining rockets. The engineers scrambled over the bridge structure, setting new explosives. Two T-80s rumbled up the road, aiming for the nearest engineers.
I spoke to my pilot.
"Take us down, in front of the bridge."

My trigger finer pressed the trigger swiftly, the machine-gun rattling and clanking, firing armored piercing bullets. The BMD tanks could stand that fire, but not for long. Seven T-80s, two T-62s, and three BMDs. All were destroyed. My helicopter wasn't in any better shape. My left wing was gone. Hundreds of bullets had passed through my cockpit. I was ready to simply drop the bird. My squadron kept flying. They had actually re-loaded, contributing to my stand. Now two Hellfire rockets smashed through the BMD. Another one down.
"Pilot, get the hell out. You've done enough. We are going to blow the bridge." Delta-Jupiter called out. His Bradley tanks had supported my helicopter, but their guns weren't able to fend off the strongest armor.
"Captain, we got two engineer battalions of Ivans in amphibious vehicles. Their driving down to take the bridge."
"Hold them off lieutenant!"
"I am! There are eight or nine of the turtles, and their supported by half the Red Army! Capt...."
I looked to my left, and I saw the eight black shapes churning down river. There was also a column of T-80s, supporting them with their fierce blackened snouts.
"Blow it. Save yourself, pilot."

I knew my pilot was gone. The roof was blown off, he was in the water. I didn't blame him. I kept on firing. The Soviets had tried to take out my helicopter with an RPG. The Apache was a dead-duck. Hundreds of rounds had passed through the rotors, engines, blades. My gun still worked, that is, my Heckler and Koch submachine gun. It purred as it fired, striking the Soviets as they navigated towards me. Then I felt the world shake beneath me, and I let go.