“How does it look, Major?”
“Come and see for yourself, Colonel!”
He offered out his hand to hoist her up. She initially looked insulted at the sentiment. It was never made easy for a woman in the military, even less so for Chandra who operated in an elite unit. Taylor smiled in a way she could see was both being friendly as well as larking about. She smiled back and took his arm. Taylor hauled her up onto the vehicle where she could see the wonders before them.
For a moment she let herself revel in the victory they had achieved. Seeing the enemy crushed was the most heart warming experience since the war began. Then, as Jones and Taylor continued to gaze at the fruits of their labour, Chandra turned back to look at their own lines and felt a sickness in her stomach.
Tanks and artillery were in ruin and hundreds of soldiers lay dead or wounded across the lines. She could see similar devastation in the distance. The alien forces had attacked across a several kilometre-wide front. She estimated that thirty percent of the troops of the units she could see had been decimated. It was a brutal reminder of the losses in Brest, and a horrific insight in what was to come.
“We paid a high price for this small victory,” she said.
Taylor and Jones turned to look at the grim sight. Their smiling faces were quickly muted as they looked at the carnage on their own side.
“I hope they are losing as much as us, because we can’t keep this up forever.”
“We have no choice, Colonel. This isn’t a war of our choosing. They want our homes and we have nowhere to go, we fight or we die as a race,” said Taylor.
“Our American friend if right, Colonel. No price is too high, for extinction is the only other option.”
She nodded and turned to look back out towards the battlefield. She could just make out the last of the Mechs and vehicles retreating.
“They’ll be back soon enough, and in greater number. No one likes taking a beating and they’ll be eager to set the record straight.”
“We’ll be ready for them!”
“Captain, get on the line, we need ammunition and re-enforcements brought up immediately. I am guessing their next assault will be twice as strong as this one was. Also make sure we get plenty of water, and organise the wounded to be moved back!”
“Yes, Sir.”
He leapt from the tank to carry out his tasks. They had made the city of Paris a fortress, and in doing so they all realised what a siege it was about to become. The first of the re-enforcement detachments were already clambering over the rubble on the road from the centre of the city. They poured into the trenches as the wounded and dead were pulled out, more lambs to the slaughter.
“Colonel!” shouted Lieutenant Green.
She turned to see the man pointing at a fresh wing of enemy aircraft heading for their position.
“Into the trenches! Take cover!” she screamed.
She leapt with Mitch from the tank landing hard in the trench below, crumpling to the floor. Seconds later the first of the strafing runs began and bricks and mortar peppered their positions. They watched as half a section of re-enforcements were annihilated on the road east before they could reach any solid cover.
The strafing run was just the beginning. Moments later they were overhead and bomb-like objects dropped all around them. The defences burst into light as continual explosions erupted. The troops could do nothing but huddle in their trenches and hope for the best. The remaining tanks tried to counter the aircraft with their secondary mounted anti-aircraft weapons. They knocked out a couple of the alien vessels, but it had little effect.
Taylor could see Chandra shouting orders, but couldn’t hear a single word despite her being only a metre away. The ground shook and rumbled continuously as if hit by an earthquake. A nearby bomb struck Price, blinding him instantly and leaving his face cut and mangled, he was alive but no good to anyone. Taylor saw him moving and wailing but couldn’t hear his screams over the deafening noise.
The bombing run raged for fifteen minutes until friendly aircraft arrived to once more do battle. However it was too late, the alien planes were already returning west and the EUA fighters were forced to turn back in fear of being over hostile lands.
Taylor and Chandra stood up to survey the damage. Both tanks were now utterly destroyed and another eight men were dead in their trench, as well as many more wounded. The Colonel remembered dispatching Captain Jones just moments before the attack had begun, she could only pray she hadn’t sent him to his death. Seconds after the distressing thought the Captain appeared from behind one of the burning wrecks to report in.
He stopped and looked around at their trench for a moment. Blood trailed up his armour but it seemed it wasn’t his. He looked back to the Colonel dumbfounded.
“Sir, you had it light here, I suggest you take a look.”
Chandra clambered back onto the tank she’d been on before the bombing began. The vehicle was smouldering and she could feel the heat through her boots. Looking along the line of defences she gasped at the carnage. There were gaping holes in their defences where entire trenches had been left as ragged craters. Most of the armour on the front line was blown apart or still burning.
In the distance came the frightful sound she had been dreading. Tank tracks in vast numbers were rolling towards their positions. Still a couple of kilometres off but in great numbers, she doubted they had more than fifteen minutes before all hell broke loose. Jumping off the vehicle once more she strode to the wired phone in their trench and ripped the handset from its cradle.
“This is Colonel Chandra, get me Commander Phillips!”
“This is Phillips.”
“Sir, we’re in deep shit here! We’ve got heavy casualties. Our armour is mostly gone. Enemy is approaching in substantial numbers, I do not believe we can survive another assault!”
“Understood, Colonel. Brigadier Dupont is receiving the same reports across the line. I am ordering you to withdraw immediately! A defensive line is being setup along the banks of the Seine. Fall back and take up positions there. Good luck, Colonel.”
The Commander cut off the transmission, but Chandra had already heard everything she needed to know. She turned to look at the troops in the trench. A few were helping others to patch over minor wounds, though most were awaiting her orders.
“Immediate fall back to the Seine! Carry all wounded! Leave the dead! Let’s move!”
The troops hated leaving their fallen comrades, but were also relieved to be leaving the site of such slaughter. Their previous victory had been bittersweet after the mauling they had just received. As they got to their feet they could see that the other infantry regiments and surviving vehicle crews were already pouring down the main roads.
Seeing the front line armies in full retreat was a morale destroying experience. It was half an hour before they reached the river bridges and streamed over them. Two fresh EUA divisions had deployed along the banks of the Seine and erected even greater defences than they previously had.
The clean and fresh soldiers stared in silence at the battle fatigued and battered combat troops as they rushed back behind the new line of defences. Not even the best-trained and equipped armies of the world had faced such a voracious foe. The new line of defences had thick concrete barriers inset either side of the trenches creating blast defences. Heavy armour was lined up all along the roads facing across the river.
Officers from the signals units directed the combined company to their new area just twenty metres off from the entrance to a wide road bridge. They had been allocated a line of four-storey buildings built as defences for the bridges a hundred years before. The thick walls and strong structures were a welcome sight to the troops defending the vital area of the river.
Taylor and Jones were quick to deploy their troops to every defensive position that they could. Even the wounded no longer able to carry their own bodyweight were propped up with plenty of ammunition. Within five minutes the troops were ready and taking a much needed rest.
The two officers found their Colonel on a roof looking out west from where the enemy was approaching. Charlie and Mitch walked up to her as she panned across the city. Smoke plumes still rose from the battleground they had fought on that morning.
“They’ve stopped,” said Chandra.
“You sure?” asked Taylor.
“Listen.”
The three officers stared into the distance just listening for anything. Troops continued to march on the roads behind them, but the front was quiet.
“Do you think they’ve had enough?” she asked.
“Not a chance. Think what we would do if the enemy had retreated to greater defences. They are pausing to amass their forces before a grand assault. This could be it, this next battle could decide the fate of one of the greatest cities in the world,” said Taylor.
The troops of the 2
nd
Inter-Allied Battalion had laid about in their defences for over an hour. Ammunition supplies were brought up and troops continued to pour in from the west. Their communications were working as normal, though the signals staff were still working hard at installing wired connections in readiness.
Taylor, Jones and Chandra sat in a corner of the rooftop defences of their building. It was the calm before the storm which all of them had now experienced more times than they had ever wished. They had re-supplied and were as ready as they could be. Now the only thing to do was wait. Despite the communications lines working, they had received little contact from Headquarters.
“Jones tells me a Sergeant that you’re very close to is in a critical condition in England,” said Chandra.
The Major looked over to Jones with a humbled expression. Both the British officers understood that he had more than a professional relationship with Parker, but didn’t mention it.
“How is she?” she asked.
“Last word the Commander was able to get said she was still in surgery.”
“Then she’s in a better place than us,” said Jones.
“Really?”
“She’s got a solid chance of survival, better than our odds.”
The Major smiled, he appreciated the Captain’s humour in an attempt to settle his grief. The huge advertising display boards on the buildings opposite flickered and caught their attention. The EUA logo appeared on all the screens that had survived the earlier bombing raids. The three officers and the few troops sitting about the rooftop got to their feet and walked to the far side of the building.
They didn’t know what to expect as the huge building-width displays flickered and then faded to a conference room with the EUA logo and lines of the countries’ flags. A podium stood in the centre of the image. It was the familiar set up from which all key speeches and announcements were made by the heads of the EU.
The scene was vacant of any sign of life or movement. Suddenly a woman stepped up behind the podium. She was dressed in a smart suit and looked confident and calm. She turned to the camera looking directly into the lens.
“This message is for all EUA forces and allies thereof. I have with me the representatives of all thirty-one states. We come to you live from London where the President of France and his Majesty the King of the Great Britain and the Commonwealth have travelled to address you personally. Please welcome President Andre Francois.”
The woman left the podium as all the troops at the defences were fixated on the screens. None were ever particularly interested in what politicians had to say, but in this time of need, they clung onto any news they could get.
“Greetings to all of you. To the men and women of the European Union Army, and the many troops who have joined the fight. I want to extend my gratitude to every one of you that is fighting for the freedom and survival of not just our country, but the entire world. I am well aware that time is not on our side and will therefore be brief. You honour us all with your courage. Thank you, and good luck. Now may I present to you, his Majesty King Richard, the Twelfth.”
The French President moved aside and the King stepped up to the podium. In his fifties, and a former soldier himself, the graceful and confident royal wore his blazing red tunic and full regalia.
“Ladies and Gentleman. We have lost the west of France. We have lost Spain. North Africa has also fallen. We cannot lose Paris! I have just received word that four divisions are en route from Russia and its allies. Troops from the Middle East are already arriving in Italy and Yugoslavia. Help is on the way, you have my word! All that matters now is that we all accept that failure is not an option. To fail is to condemn our families, friends, comrades and children to death. The world is looking to you, and you will have our eternal gratitude for the sacrifices you make. Good luck to all of you.”