Author Notes:
I don't know man, I can kinda get why even the elite 501st will get PTSD lol
Anyway! Big shoutout to Private heller8284 for paying an entire year of Tithe! UmU, big thanks to the man indeed! I can breathe a bit easier somewhat now.
In case you don't know, I kinda miscalculated the household funding and the fact that my bank will straight up not work at the start of next month, which is when Vietnam will have a national holiday and my rent is due. So yeah, I will appreciate any help that you all can provide, just so that my Mom won't have to see the houseowner's annoying face and can focus on getting well properly.
On behalf of my Mom, thank you, and don't forget to enjoy the new RM chapter!
P.S: I think my AI art generator program is finally dead after a long period of abuse, fuck my life...
https://www.patre-on.com/Heartbreak117
https://ko-fi.com/heartbreak117/goal?g=0
Income goal 790/8800 USD (Mom is now signed up for medical therapy every week, so the increase is to help me cover the treatment cost. Many thanks to whoever is helping me reach that mark.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Although the Polanian Revolutionary Command Council has just decided on a mass retreat south of their nation, getting that particular order to the Army units that are neck-deep in mud and uncertainty is a challenge and a half. So, even if the directive is made in the morning, there are still Polanian soldiers and officers waging pitched battles or running around headless on the frontline in the twilight of Day 19. It's expected that the intense fighting in Eastern Polanian will last for around a week or so due to the surprisingly stubborn resistance of the defending Polanian Army units on that side of the front. Unlike their Eastern counterpart, however, Western Polanian units are being subjected to a devastating grinder and are herded like livestock to anywhere other than the West. Their prior impressive numbers and investment notwithstanding the sheer technological and doctrinal superiority the Belkans have brought to bear. Each passing minute means more of Polania's territory is subsumed by a ceaseless tide of steel and gunpowder. The Belkans could have forcefully seized their portion of land according to the Molotov-Ribbentrop in around three days if they chose to do so. But they didn't for one understandable reason:
They don't have enough manpower.
Unlike Belka's bout with the Allied forces when they brought to bear three whole Army Groups, the Reich only deployed one singular Army Group in its war against Polania. This means 400000 men and women had to contend against a force more than twice their size... Well, the numbers have plateaued, and both sides have long since narrowed the quantitative gap between them. Nonetheless, the fact remains that Army Group D is still being outnumbered. Unwilling to invest more of their abundant, but understandably precious Reichsmarks still, it's decided by the Reich's military leadership that, for the most part, there won't be new military units being deployed other than what's already assigned to the Polania theater. Subsequently, Berlin has decided that, while swift progress can be made whenever possible, it's still better to take it slow and steady... Well, slow in the eyes of the Belkans while extremely fast still anywhere else across the world.
The point is: As long as the job gets done in a reasonable timeframe and with acceptable losses and investment, then that's high efficiency alright. How to balance those aspects, however, is mostly up to the field commanders. For the most part, they have been doing well enough of a job thus far. There's been no egregious loss of lives or materials, at least not yet, and the pace of battlefield advancement is adequate enough to leave the Rusviets in the dust. Nonetheless, this blisteringly fast speed sees the Belkans already gobbling up multiple Polanian towns and cities is still not enough for them to deal with the Western Polanian Army in one fell swoop. There are still a significant number of them left either marauding or trying to band together to form guerilla cells. Even when the Belkan Air Force is working overtime, it's very hard for them to deal a significant blow when their prior advantages, those of concentrated enemy formations and up-to-date intelligence on HVTs, are now made quite desolated. One can't just ask the enemy to continue being one big happy family, or the undercover ONI agents to keep coming up with credible intel when more than half of the enemy's information being passed through their hands is obsoleted. These scattered Polanian warbands are small in size, but there are multiple of them. Keeping track of each and every single one of them is a tall order, even for ONI.
As such, it isn't a surprise when one or multiple of these bands escape the surveillance net and stumble across something they shouldn't, only to perish together as a result. One such particular incident is happening right now, just as the sun has shed its last ray of sunlight. In one of the many villages that have surrendered to Belkan occupation, a Platoon of 501st paratroopers is staging a high-stakes defensive battle against what used to be a single enemy Company that has long been bolstered to a Battalion worth of units. This particular village in the Greater Polania region was supposed to be converted into another logistical node between the three Belkan Airborne Divisions and Army Group D. Still, it appears the Polanian Army also has similar ideas, hoping to use this village as a recuperation and reorganization point. After all, it's observed that the Belkan Air Force doesn't like bombing an area that is populated with civilians whenever possible.
Is this a ruthless, irreconcilable move? Yes, but it is effective, holding your own citizens hostage to save your hide. However, these tactics don't necessarily work all the time. If it means it's much riskier to stage a normal ground operation, then it's bomb away all the same. Now, back to the village being fought over.
Already, this fifty-soldier strong Airborne Platoon has expended half of their allocated ammo supply. Casualties are mounting, a few of them fatal. And the singular C-RAM they just managed to set up before shit hit the fan is now completely expended. Whatever artillery the Polanians still have left in the treeline now have free rein on shelling the flimsy village walls and building the airbornes are taking cover in. Civilian casualties be damn, these Polanian soldiers here sure don't have the same moral conundrum as the Belkan Air Force. They don't even think twice before bombarding the area near the village's church where its basement is used to shelter the elders and the children of the village. A couple of fires are sprung up in the town square by the shelling, but given that it's all men and women on the walls and the high ground, the Belkan soldiers are thus unable to combat them. The task is left to the volunteered, and young Polanian women who don't want to see their village made into a burning pit. As exposed as they are to the stray mortar shells and bullets, these village girls are fighting their own battle, just like the airbornes that are fighting theirs. The situation has grown to a point where it's not just a battle for logistics in the eyes of these Belkan soldiers, it now concerns the unfortunate lives behind them. Given the sheer disregard, the Polanian soldiers on the other side of the wall show to their own citizens, the Belkans have a legit cause to fear for the lives of the Polanian civilians.
After all, what's stopping the Polanian Army from executing these 'defectors' that capitulated to the Belkan Reich? It's a legitimate fear, given the misleading propaganda that is fed into the Polanian Army by the Revolutionary Command Council. Sure, maybe not all of their civilians are good-natured spirits, but think about the kids in the church's basement, the young ladies trying to put away the raging flame, or even the brave few who are helping the airbornes stabilize their wounded. These images aren't the things that you will look at once and retreat away from the moment the heat of war burns your nape.
So, fight on they will, and fortunately, it's not like the 501st Airbornes are flying solo. Despite being outnumbered since the very beginning of the engagement, it doesn't mean that they're outgunned. At first, when it was just a Company versus a Platoon, they had UCAVs in the air to provide precision strikes against a concentrated group of enemies. When another enemy Company was thrown into the mix, a battery of M777 150 mm howitzers from the 263rd Airborne Division responded to the call for aid and started a ceaseless bombardment of their own against the attacking Polanian forces. Still, when the situation escalated into a brawl between a Battalion-level unit and a Platoon worth of airbornes, the Belkan military pulled out all the stops. Now, Harriers and Guns-a-go-go Ospreys are circling the air, dunking bombs, rockets, and even guns and napalm in abundance. More reinforcements are on the way as well, with them being minutes away from the very, very active battlefield. By now, when being shelled and bombed with impunity like this, surely the Polanians must have understood the futility of their action, right? They may as well retreat or should surrender outright, right?
Apparently not. Oh no, they seem to even intensify their suicidal attack... Suicidal charge even.
Firing a short burst from his MG1 machine gun and forcing a Polanian soldier to either go down from being hit or to dodge the bullets, a Belkan paratrooper adjusts the barrel of his gun to a different target, only to realize that his rifle is now empty, given the audible clicking he keeps hearing but no bang. It's not as much a rookie mistake when his position was hit by what's probably an anti-tank shell and his head is still rattling like a washing machine. Ducking just below the battlement, barely in time to avoid incoming return fire, the paratrooper removes the empty mag, only to further realize that his ammo carrier is as light as a Helium balloon a moment away from being stuck in a tree. Cursing lowly in a very, very unkind manner, the Belkan paratrooper tucks the empty magazine into one of his empty pouches while crawling on the floor to peer down at a lower level of the wall.
"Hey, John Doe! I need ammo!" The paratrooper shouts to his Platoon mate below him.
Similarly tucking himself away from incoming fire, John Doe looks up at the paratrooper in askance.
"What the fuck, brother!? I just gave you a mag two minutes ago and you already used it up!? You machine gunners will bankrupt the Reich one day!"
Nonetheless, John Doe brings out a full magazine and tosses it into the waiting hand of the paratrooper above him.
"For the Mother Goddess' sake, be deliberate with your shots! That's the last mag for you so make it count!"
As the machine gunner moves away from the edge to reload his machine gun with the spare 20-round magazine, the man hears his friend shout in annoyance. "And for the last fucking time, my name is Johann Doer! Not John Doe like them Eruseans!"
The machine gunner barks a laugh despite his throat feeling quite dry. Inserting the magazine and slapping the charging handle home, this 501st paratrooper is ready to let it rip with his MG1 once more... Albeit to a much lesser extent, given that he doesn't have access to any of his 100-round drum magazines now. They've long been expended in early suppressive fire maneuvers before the Air Force shows up. Peering through a different firing position, only to see a great many Polanians desperately trying to charge at the 501st position as if their lives depended on it, the machine gunner ponders only momentarily about the peculiarity of the circumstances before taking kill shots against the ones that are the easiest to hit... Which basically means the soldiers closest to the battered village walls.
It's only when the "Cease fire! Cease your fucking fire!" order is given to the entire battle net by his Lieutenant does the machine gunner removes his finger from the trigger. And by then, he has only one or two 8 mm Mauser cartridges left to use. Nonetheless, through the hazy smoke generated by the hot barrel of his MG1, the paratrooper manages to see that the enemy is now running at them with their hands raised, their rifles and weapons being discarded one by one. They're scared, frightened as they run out of the treeline they have been hiding in, regularly peering back behind them as if they're fear of being chased by Death herself. They clamor for surrender, for safety, for protection... Not at all like the very soldiers who have been zealously or maddeningly attacking the 501st's village just moments earlier. When did this twist in behavior occur? Were they just mowing down potential POWs? And what has caused this change in the first place?
It's saying something when the For of War makes it so that even with the OWL vision devices, it's hard for the 501st or other Belkan observers to make sense of the burning batch of Polanian forest just outside the village. Whatever has happened in there, dead or alive, is a probable cause for concern if it managed to frighten the Polanians to the point of running away. So, ignoring the surrendered Polanian soldiers who are now huddling beneath the city walls with their backs against it for security, the 501st Lieutenant orders the rest of the Platoon and local Belkan units to pay attention to suspicious activity. And that's, that's when the 501st starts seeing figures, burning and scorched by the napalm previously dropped by the Harriers above them.
"Fuck me..."
"Oh, for the love of all that's holy..."
"Not this again..."
Having seen what has appeared, and in great numbers at that, the elite 501st Airbornes can only groan in utter distaste and sheer annoyance. Once again, they have come face to face with their archenemy:
Demons and Zombies.
They still remember the wounds, the scars, and the mental traumas inflicted upon them by these unending, silicone existents that only someone with a screw loose in the head would love. Sardegna is one time too many for anyone involved. Yet, to see a full line of Demons and Zombies of multiple kinds, seemingly infused with flame and are raring for another showdown with the 501st? Yeah, they ain't dealing with this shit, even with a ten-foot pole.
So, unironically, when the Demonic horde is spending its time posturing and forming up more and more of its line, the horde is seemingly created by the resentments of war and attracted to the slaughter, the 501st also asks for help of its own. Reinforcements arrive via Ospreys and Puma IFVs at last, either rappeling or forming up mechanical bastions to welcome the amassing horde. More gunships come to hover above the wartorn village as the night sky is lit up by the afterburners of Phantoms. Still, once again, the 501st has nowhere near the number the Demons seem to be bringing out from the woodwork. Since that's the case, then it's probably just the right moment to call in the big gun.
"Thomas, this is Hawk 8, fire for effect."
"Hawk 8, Thomas, fire for effect."
"Grid 491 tack 705."
"Grid 491 tack 705."
"Target, multiple Demons and Zombies in the open, requesting a full salvo of thermobaric rockets, request splash."
"Multiple Demons and Zombies in the open, requesting a full salvo of thermobaric rockets, request splash. Out."
The first rocket is fired:
"Shot."
"Shot. Out."
All of the rockets are fired.
"Rounds complete."
"Rounds complete. Out."
Five seconds to impact. The fading rocket exhausts are barely visible on the horizon.
"Splash."
"Splash. Out."
Then, the last thing the Demons and Zombies can hear as they turn their head upward is the shells' whistling sound. Afterward, nothing but miniature suns are detonated right on top of them. Even if they could resist the effect of napalm, they clearly can't withstand the flash-heating effect generated by the thermobaric warheads and are thus promptly vaporized, silicone bodies notwithstanding. This is probably the last, major Demonic gathering in the foreseeable future, and it ends with an anti-climatic yet is nonetheless a resounding bang.
While it's not their preferred target of vengeance, Thomas the Train and its crew have once again racked up more war merits by virtue of lugging yet more ludicrous firepower behind it once again.