Authors: Nick S. Thomas
"A real Assegai will push right through their armour like a cutting torch, but you have to place a good sturdy thrust into the armour. In this particular situation you, Rizzo, have the advantage. The Mech suit still has a lot of power, but with the Reitech equipment you have speed, flexibility, and a weapon which can bypass their armour entirely when used correctly."
Taylor moved back and gestured for the others to do so, spanning out in a crescent shape to watch. Rizzo's confidence seemed to vanish, as he stood alone against Jafar.
"I have instructed Jafar to simulate the fighting style of one of the common enemy soldiers. He will try to strike and fight as they could, and to minimise the risk of injury. However, be under no illusions, you are in danger."
"But you have not given us any training yet."
Taylor smiled back.
"A few minutes ago you were all too eager to get face to face with the enemy and prove your worth. Clearly, you think yourself up to the task. In order to win here, you must land a thrust into the torso or head armour."
Taylor lifted a shield from the rack and placed it on Rizzo's arm.
"Begin!"
The man formed a basic fighting stance as best he could. Jafar approached quickly and aggressively. Taylor could already see the Italians were shocked to see the strength and power of one of the aliens in action. Rizzo cowered behind the large shield, but Jafar struck him like a bull. Rizzo was launched off his feet and tossed through the air, landing on his back on the hard ground. The suit was all that saved him from spinal injury. The wind was knocked out of him, and he groaned in pain.
"Get up! Jafar may give you the opportunity for a second chance. The enemy will not!" yelled Taylor.
Grey watched on silently. He could see it was a lesson being taught brutally but effectively. Rizzo got to his feet and held the weapon before him. The Assegai was out in front, the blade protruding past the shield as he approached. Jafar swung quickly and smashed the blade with the claw of his armoured suit. The blade flew from Rizzo's grip.
Jafar followed it with a hammer blow from above. Rizzo lifted his shield to stop it, but the power smashed it down and dropped him onto his knees. Before he could recover, Jafar kicked under his shield into his chest, knocking him onto his back again and sent the shield hurtling across the ground with sparks flying up all around.
Rizzo tried to sit up, but Jafar stood on his chest armour and pinned him to the ground. He was helpless.
"Enough!" Taylor ordered.
Jafar released his hold and stood back from the stricken soldier. Taylor stepped forward and hauled him to his feet.
"The first thing you should see here is that you cannot treat this like you are fighting someone of roughly equal size and strength. This equipment has done wonders, but do not think for a minute that makes you equal. You must use speed and dexterity to overcome their mass and power."
He could see Rizzo was scornful for being shown up so badly. Taylor picked up the shield and Assegai the Private had dropped.
"Use the shield to approach safely against their weapons, and then to divert the energy of their strikes, not take it full on, not unless it is the only thing that will save your life."
He gestured for Jafar to come at him. His alien friend quickly responded and rushed at the Colonel with all the bullish speed and power he had used previously. Taylor stepped just a little off to the side and brushed off a heavy strike from Jafar with his shield, allowing him to tumble on past. As he did, Taylor thrust the Assegai under the shield into the gut.
The electric shock hit and momentarily incapacitated Jafar, sending him crashing face first onto the hard ground. The Italians looked on with shock. They had expected Jafar to give Taylor an easier go of it, but it was a brutal and short fight. Taylor knew Jafar had given it to him easy because he was a far better fighter than any normal alien soldier. He had none of the clumsiness he’d put on.
"You see, you are lighter, faster, and better if you use their strength against them and your own ability and weapons to your advantage. Rizzo was a perfect example of how much work is needed to get you into fighting shape. And so begins your real training."
* * *
Six months later.
The camp at Naples had expanded tenfold since they arrived, and it was just one of many such troop concentrations which had developed since the new war began. Taylor was walking back to the mess halls from morning exercises when a fresh armoured regiment rolled in. He stood and watched for a few minutes as dozens of armoured vehicles rolled on past. Many were brand new. Others were heavily modified and older. Eventually, he recognised one of the tank commanders on top of one of the vehicles passing him.
"Becker!"
Captain Lukas Becker, and in much better shape than when we last met.
The German Captain looked down and instantly knew Taylor. He spoke into his radio ordering his driver to pull over and out of the column.
"Colonel now?" he asked.
He jumped down from his tank and embraced Taylor with a hug. He could still never get used to such European mannerisms but accepted it as the sign of friendship it was.
"And you, still a Captain. I thought you'd be in charge of the regiment by now."
"I could have perhaps come close to it, but that is not the life for me. Let me worry about my own crew, and that'll do just fine."
"You must be one of the old men of the regiment now."
"Yes, a veteran of more battles than I care to remember, but not as many as you."
"Any news on when all this kicks off?"
"No, but it can't be long now. Every unit I have contact with has been moving to the southern coastline. You may be able to go by air, but much of our armour will have to go by sea."
"So will a lot of our infantry, I'm guessing. With this large a force, we simply won't have enough aircraft for everyone. I'm glad to see you made it through all this and are still fighting on. Last time I saw you, I thought you looked ready to pack it all in.”
"Yes, I was, but the enemy had other ideas."
"Well, I'm glad to have you with us."
"Likewise," he said, climbing back onto his tank.
"I'll see you around, Colonel."
He gave a casual salute as the tank rolled on to join the seemingly endless column. Jones appeared at Taylor's side and had just caught sight of Becker as he left.
"Sending German armour to North Africa? Didn't work so well last time."
Taylor had to laugh.
"I wouldn't remind him of that."
"We must be close now."
"Yep, I guess another day or two, and we'll be ready to move."
Just as he said it, a voice came over the loudspeakers mounted around the base.
"All senior officers report to the briefing room, immediately."
"I guess this could be it."
Taylor's hunger from a busy morning completely subsided at the realisation they might finally have news. They rushed to the large briefing room that had been established at the centre of the base. Over fifty officers had assembled, and Commander Phillips stood on the stage with several other higher-ranking officials. Chief among them was General Schulz. Taylor hadn't seen him since the first war had ended, but they seemed to have settled their differences back then. Schulz stood up to address them.
"At 2100 hours tomorrow Operation Freedom will begin. That is the operation to take the fight to the enemy!”
Cheers rang out. Few wanted to have to fight, but all wanted to see and know that an end was in sight. He lifted up his hand to call for silence.
“At 2100 hours the infantry forces stationed here, as well as along many other bases throughout the Mediterranean, will set off for designated landing sites in North Africa. Their deployment will be timed to land just hours before a massive beach landing of armour and additional forces. Be under no illusions, this will be the greatest military operation in the history of the World.”
The room fell silent as they took in his words.
“Operational details will be handled at Company and Battalion level and is being organised and dispersed presently. Tomorrow it all begins, and it does not stop until we have seized absolute victory. These bastards have occupied our lands long enough. Let’s take them back. I want all of you to rest easy tonight and be ready for the road that lies ahead. That’ll be all.”
They all exited the room in a stunned state. All thought of the day to come and knew they wouldn’t sleep that night.
“You really think this is it?” asked Jones.
“Yes. We’ve given those boys all the training we can. We have amassed all the forces we can. It’s time to move.”
“You think it’ll be enough.”
“Sure, why not? We fought the first war on their terms in their time. This time we do it on ours.”
The night passed slowly with little sleep for any of them. Everyone knew the time was nigh. Some hoped for a delay, but most wanted it to begin now. The fact they had to go to the enemy was certain. It was time to get it over and done with. When the sun rose, the camp was eerily quiet. There was no time left for training. They were the best prepared they could be.
At 2000 hours the megaphone sounded. The Battalion had been sitting in the warmth of the evening outside their billets, coffee and tea their only comfort.
"All personnel to begin boarding and prepare for take off."
Taylor looked down at his watch.
"The ships must already be at the coast by now."
"Then let's hope that armour gets ashore."
They had poured over intelligence gathered from the enemy positions for weeks and months, and now it was time to finally act.
I only hope we’re right about it all.
"Let's move!"
The order was carried on down the line, as the base was becoming a sudden hive of activity. He strode for Eddie’s copter, knowing the pilot was always waiting to be his personal pilot. It brought him a sense of security to have Eddie at the controls. They had been shot down and gone through hell together more than a few times, but they always survived.
As he climbed aboard, he looked down at his Mappad to study the area one last time. The allied landings would be taking place along the coast of Tunisia from Gabes to Tripoli, but their job was to go beyond in the largest airborne operation in history.
Gabes,another city I’ve never heard of, despite spending weeks preparing anoperation there,
Taylor thought.
He'd poured over photos and maps to the extent he felt he was intimately familiar with the land.
"Two minutes!" said Rains.
Anti-aircraft pulses burst in the sky before them and were increasing at a rapid rate. The massive aerial offensive was hopefully enough to hold back their air power. For the Battalion and all the others in the sky, they could only wait and hope. He couldn't see anything from his seat, but neither did he want to. Their time finally came.
"Thirty seconds!"
"Line up!" ordered Taylor.
They were all glad to be getting out of the copter. They'd rather face the enemy themselves than wait to be blown out of the sky. Their job was to secure the land north of Gabes, a narrow patch corridor between the salt lake Chott el Jerid and the sea. It was the opposite end of the offensive to where the ruins of the K'til lay, but he knew it was vitally important until they had secured a beachhead.
There’ll be plenty of time yet to find Demiran.
He counted down on his watch as they all stood and approached the door.
"Good luck to you all," he said through comms.
Several nodded in agreement. Jones was first at the door. Taylor was halfway down the line with Jafar at his back. The green light at the door lit up, and Jones leapt without hesitation. The rest of the platoon followed him. As Taylor reached the door, he realised how dark the area was. There was no lighting on the ground. The moon provided minimal amounts. Only the enemy pulses and explosions provided streaks and bursts around them.