5th January, 2044
It was late. The sun had already set, leaving nothing but stars to illuminate battlefields scattered across Europe. Here, in northern France, it was snowing lightly, filling areas yet untouched by war with natural beauty. Caen was one if such places. Yet untouched by war. Yet.
The column of armored vehicles of various designations moved slowly through rather small, covered by a thin layer of snow road. They were moving slowly, barely faster than a man walking. Their engines making little sound and smoke, their movement exposing dark grass as the snow sticked itself to trucks and wheels.
Inside of one of the tanks eastern France sat, nervously looking at the map displayed on the screen before her. Blue squares and triangles, symbolizing the sneaking army, were slowly approaching a red line of fascist defences. In the bottom right corner, small timer was ticking to show for how further they could sneak before being detected. It was this little number the kingdom was paying so much attention to. As it got smaller, she repeated the entire plan in her head.
Sneak up as close as possible with the vehicles, then send the signal. After receiving it, nearby carrier will dispatch fighters to destroy key roads and buildings. Before they leave, we come in and storm the defenders while they're focused on the air attack. Since they're running low on anti tank ammunition and fuel, we can spearhead all the way to the city. After it gets captured, we stop for a day to regroup and then push further.
Seemed like a good plan. The only way they'd not shatter these defences along side the westerners' morale was that Brittany was lying from the very begging, but that wasn't very likely as it would cost him his life, France thought looking at the timer. After waiting for the perfect moment, she gave an order.
- Stop! - one word was enough. The tanks at the front stopped almost immediately while other vehicles behind started to drive around to create a proper battle formation. The white-golden country gave the screen one more look. 0.03 meters to the detection zone. She released the air she didn't realize she was holding in earlier. Had she waited half a second longer, the entire operation would have to be cancelled and no progress would be made. She should be more careful in the future.
- Send the signal - she told the tanker next to her. With a ping sound, a message was sent, it's meaning simple: "frog". One word, if it was intercepted it would only bring confusion. After it was sent, France turned to the periscope. Using it, she watched the troops they will be fighting with soon. It didn't took long for the local radar group to notice incoming planes and their officer to raise the alarm. Men ran into various buildings and trenches, trying to avoid incoming bombardment, and the local anti-air prepared to fend off upcoming attack. Now was the best moment to strike.
- Move to engage - she told the driver and radio operator, holding her nerves. The man with headphones repeated the command to the rest of the group and they all moved, speeding up towards the enemy line.
It didn't take long for them to get noticed, but before the fascist soldiers could react the planes came, releasing their rockets. The bombardment, despite both missile and bullet based anti-air presence was stunningly successful and before the smoke of explosions have fallen, the jets were gone.
Seeing this success, France decided to overwhelm the defenders while they were still unorganized.
- Fire on the trenches, but do not stop to clean them up. After we pass, tell the artillery to shell them so they don't attack us from behind - she told the communications operator. He nodded and turned to his devices to prepare the message. Without stopping, charging tanks and infantry support vehicles opened fire to the first line of defense with cannons and heavy machine guns. The return fire was scarse; Brittany must have been telling the truth.
That or it's a trap and they are just luring us further, eastern France thought. She decided to stay alerted. Their tank shaked noticeably, showing that they crossed the weakly defended trench. As they were getting closer to the actual city, the white-golden countryhuman turned to the man behind the radio once again.
- Contact the carrier and tell them we're entering the city. Next attacks must be more careful to avoid friendly fire - she told him before looking through the periscope.
- Anti tank gun on 2 o'clock! - hearing this, the gunner rotated the turret, aimed and pulled the trigger. The tracked machine fired without stopping, directly hitting the target and destroying it along with it's crew. Another cannon fired at them, but their reactive armor was much better protection against such rounds than anything an undersupplied unit could have at their disposal. The self propelled cannons started to drive backwards, knowing their fixed superstructures would cause a lot of problem if the attackers got too close, but ultimately the monarchist forces catched up. They drove past them and rotated the turrets. At this range and firing at the back of the vehicle, heavy mgs and small automatic cannons mounted on top of the main guns were more than enough. Seeing how well the attack goes, France smiled rakishly. While hating any unaddressed problems, she just loved to see her plans go smoothly and efficiently.
As they approached the city, some scarce anti tank rockets were fired, but failed to disable any tank. Following fire exchange was one sided; regular rifles weren't made with frontal tank armor in mind, and concrete buildings the defenders were hiding in were demolished by cannons. Some of the explosion noises came from behind, meaning the artillery kept the forces they rushed earlier in check. Now came the hardest part: urban combat. All vehicles slowed down, infantry was finally deployed. They advanced cautiously through the streets, leaving no building unchecked. Everything was empty, civilians must've had left when the airstrike begun.
As the silent march continued, France felt more and more uneasy. Usually being in a tank meant a lot of protection, but in an ambush-friendly environment like cities these were the primary targets.
- Comms, how much until we reach city center? - she asked.
- We'll see it after this turn on the road - man answered, not taking his eyes off the map that was currently displayed on one of his screens.
- Gunner, be on guard - at this point the anticipation caused first droplets of sweat to appear at her forehead. Everything was quiet, but her subconsciousness was screaming at her that she was surrounded by danger, despite all the evidence of safety.
When they started to turn left, the white-golden country watched through the periscope as the road showed itself, ready to see some sort of powerful force ready to stop them. What she saw instead was... A small barricade. It surely couldn't stop a tank, and infantry could climb over it. Furthermore, it was empty, there was nobody there. Just one piece of towed artillery, not even manned, pointing it's dark barrel at the street. France ordered to approach cautiously in case it was mined.
But when they got closer, the cannon somehow fired itself without anyone pulling the trigger. The countryhuman almost fell of her seat from the sudden shockwave. The fire alarm went off, so the engine must've been hit, and all the screens went black, meaning that the electronics got fried aswell. Smoke was coming from the front.
Almost immediately after that shots were heard from the outside. France unlocked the safety belts, took her SMG from the side of her seat and headed for the exit hatch. Once she opened it and took a peak out, bullets ricocheted around her and she ducked back into the broken machine. Moment later the white-golden country rised up again, this time ready to return fire. The hatch was behind the turret, so whoever shot at her must've been doing it from the buildings. Noticing the man aiming at them from above, France fired a short series at him, making him duck below the window he was shooting from. Holding the submachine gun in one hand, she cravled out and jumped off the tank, crouching to get cover from behind.
- Stupid Allemange and his frontline leader mentality. I knew I should have stayed behind and coordinate the attack from safety - France groaned to herself while recalibrating her wristcomms to the carrier's bridge.
- This is Lilly 1! We've been pinned down, we require arieal support! - she said. The response wasn't what she wanted.
- It's impossible at the moment. All aircraft available here are fighting off the fascist airforce south to you - this made her curse before emptying the rest of her magazine on one of the top shooters. The man dropped his rifle through the window and fell. Mag on her gun was automatically released and she wasted no time putting in a new one. One reload left, she would have to be more sparse with bullets. What else can she use to get out of here? Artillery. There was a risk the buildings would collapse on them, but she didn't have better idea at the moment. As she connected to artillery command, a grenade went off at the other side of the tank she was hiding behind, shaking the wreck and propably killing people on the other side. She finally got in touch with the support commander.
- This is Lilly 1! We are being ambushed, precision strike is required! - this was the last thing she could think of. If they refused for any reason, the attack would stop in the middle of the city. Her radio clicked, and spoke with the voice of support commander.
- Lilly 1, we hear you. You're on the road east to the city centre, correct? -
- Yes! - that was all she could say before another fascist soldier targeted her. Pressing her back again the wreckage, French monarchy held the submachine gun in both hands and fired two series. The man fell letting her talk again.
- Hurry up! -
- We're aiming already. The strike will come soon - well this was relieving. It was good to have a plan for everything. France got up, waved her hand and yelled
- Precision strike incoming! Take cover! - she started to crawl back into the tank without waiting. An eerily whistle came through the air, heralding the impending doom. At this point both sides realized what's going on and everyone was looking for a place to hide safely from falling shells. The Kingdom has finally got inside the wreck and ducked away from the entrance hatch. The whistle got louder and louder, until it was cut off by two explosions that made France thankful for partially soundproof helmets. She peaked out of the hatch for the third time in the same battle. Roofs of both tenements were completely destroyed, all windows shattered, glass and dust lying on the ground and mixing with whatever snow was there. All of this was illuminated by the white light full moon from above and red one from burning buildings.
It was all quiet for a moment.
Until a third explosion hit the front barricades.
Book example of supporting surrounded allies. Two shells for the sides, one to the front. Very risky, even with modern arc calculations chances of friendly fire are high. Eastern France noticed that soldiers were reorganizing and preparing ro resume fighting. It was now or never.
- Infantry, clear out the buildings and find the wounded! - she shouted. Of course the enemies understood what she said too, but she didn't have the time for readjusting her comms. She ran to the working mechanized transporter from behind the destroyed tank and banged few times at the side to catch driver's attention, then used hand gestures to command him to move forward. Running back, the countryhuman picked up a dropped rifle - much more useful than a half-empty submachine. Checking the ammo, the magazine was full, original user was probably killed early in the ambush. 'Another French killed by French' - a thought flew through her mind, but she shaked it off, moral dilemma of the situation wasn't something she could focus on during a battle. She ran towards the front, vehicles behind her starting to catch up. Shots rang in the ruins as western soldiers were either captured or killed. Still running, France replaced the gun's scope with a conventional hindsight for closer range. When movement started to show in front of them, she ducked to the side and let the machines deal with the problem. The autocannon fired repeatedly for only few moments before the countryhuman, now accompanied by few infantrymen who were done with cleaning the ruins buildings, jumped out of cover and into the town square. Before even looking, she fired a series into the corner where the movement was before. Cries of pain confirmed that soldiers were hiding there. When shots came from the opposite side, France hid behind the armored truck which was firing its autocannon without stopping.
She peeked out with the rifle ready. There was a fairly large group defending the town hall - or party headquarters, if that mattered - using large stone pillars at the entrance as cover. They didn't seem to have any kind of grenade or rocket launchers, as nothing like that was used to get rid of the support vehicle that was attacking them right now. France joined her soldiers in shooting until she ran out of ammo. When her rifle ejected the empty magazine, she ducked out of the line of fire just before few rounds bounced off the place she was standing.
Dropping the now useless rifle, the white and golden country shifted focus to the phone-sized plate on her left arm. She pressed few buttons to adjust the frequency and contacted her second in command.
- Lilly 2, this is Lilly 1. My husband left me and we're having a divorce in the main court - she cringed at the codewords, but continued speaking. - Do you have some spare boyfriends? - This one was stupid. They agreed to use words "husband" and "boyfriend" for tanks, which made calling armored support uncomfortable for a woman that was running a country and was a fifty year old single. Even if being a personification meant she was practically under her thirties. On the bright side, this wasn't a code expected by Spaniards.
- Lilly 1, this is Lilly 2. The children are naughty, can't find you anyone now. Have a great day - now this was what she wanted to hear. The sentence's end meant it was a reverse, so this way the rest of the city wasn't much problem and she was getting what she needed. They just had to hold the defenders until the big gun came, which shouldn't be hard with a mechanized truck for help.
As if the devil heard her, the vehicle she was hiding behind stopped firing to reload. Seconds after, fascists noticed and send a barrage of bullets at the small tower, ultimately managing to disable the small cannon.
Merde.
France pulled the submachine gun again. Well, they can't exactly give up the main square, these compromising documents were worth their weight in gold, which propably wasn't much considering that such buildings held one larger folder of those on average. Still, letting them evacuate it wasn't wanted. They can't lose momentum of attack.
- Does anyone here have a grenade launcher? - she half-yelled.
- I do - one soldier, a bit taller than the rest said. - But I wanted to keep it in case we encounter a tank -
- It's not worth it. Use it on my signal - she commanded.
- Yes sir. My queen -
They continued the firefight, but without the autocannon support they were clearly outgunned. As their enemies got bolder, they paid less attention to cover and more to their shots' precision. Seeing this, France commanded the soldier with the grenade launcher.
- Now! - as the man fired, the countryhuman felt sharp pain in her arm; she got shot. The force was enough to send her few steps back, but someone caught her and pulled to himself. It was the squad medic. He had let her sit, and pulled out a bandage from his first aid kit. It hurt a lot, but she stayed still and allowed the man to patch up the wound without complications. After he was done, France rejoined the others in exchanging fire, but first, she checked out her arm. The bullets stinged painfully, especially when she moved her arm, but it was still possible to carry something like her SMG. When she poked out again, she smiled slightly. Her plan worked and they regained initiative.
The shootout continued until a heavy sound came from their left. It was the tank France called for before. Fifty tonnes of steel moved in and blew the walls fascists were hiding behind up in one shot. Her soldiers shouted in euphoria as the fearsome machine drove closer, it's barrel rised theatrically.
If only that was all they needed to capture the town square.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the only tank arriving here. Western French forces decided to call in their own reinforcements, which managed to caught them off guard. First shell bounced off the back armor of their own tank, making the driver push it backwards to hide behind buildings. Mechanized crew also realized they can't withstand direct hit from a cannon and pulled back without picking anybody. Infantry, along the countryhuman, scattered around the battlefield. The enemy tank attacked them with machine gun mounted at the turret's side, and if not the soldier in front of her, France would be dead. Instead, the body fell on her and knocked her down. She groaned as she fell on her hurt arm before pushing the now deceased man off of herself. It seemed that not just she wasn't recognized, but also ignored. The metal beast seemed to be completely focused on destroying it's royalist counterpart, not checking if the attack was lethal or not. The white-golden country got up and ran towards the tank just to see another one right behind the first one. The crew clearly saw her as the turret moved in her direction, but didn't fire. She used this and half jumped, half climbed on the tank in the front which was slowly going after its opponent. Moment later, it stopped, letting it's companion catch up. The latter tried hitting her with it's barrel, but it was mounted low enough to be jumped over. For a split second she wondered why isn't she being fired at with a machine gun, but then it came to her - they were on low supply! Maybe only one of them actually had ammo for it! When dodging the second swipe, she noticed something. Turret of the tank she was on was slightly higher, the gap between it and the main chassis large enough to fit a fist. France quickly pulled out a grenade, put it in the gap and then pulled the pin out, rolling down before it went off. The countryhuman yelled in pain when she fell on her hurt arm, but managed to roll out of the way of the second tank, which was still trying to hit her or run her over. When she got up, she noticed that both tanks stopped trying to kill her and focused on the royalist machine. Preparing the submachine gun, France checked if anything else was coming as reinforcements, but no. Only two tanks, one without half the ammo and other badly damaged were stopping them from capturing the city centre. At this moment the eastern French tank drove through the rubble it was hiding behind instead of peeking out and fired at the tank to France's right, the one with broken rotation mechanism. The shell flew right beside the barrel, hit the turret's front and penetrated it. The explosion was strong enough to bend and rip it from inside, tearing many holes in the structure. The second fascist tank fired in the tracks and managed to immobilize his opponent, but it wasn't enough. The crew from the white army managed to reload and aim first, hitting the same spot as before, with the same effect. As she was watching, her radio chirped.
- Lilly 1, this is Lilly 3. The enemy is retreating. We're cutting off city exits, so don't cut the chase if there's one. I repeat, cese any chases to avoid friendly fire - It spoke when she turned it on.
And just like that, the battle was over.
They have won.