HEAVY TYPE:
Manshoba'sMackenzie's Maulers
The night sky was alight with tracer shells. The ground shook furiously as a hail of artillery fire cratered the loose sand surrounding Mackenzie's Maulers.
[Manshoba]
"Platoon! Point Charlie, and stay loose! Move!!" The infantry platoon skittered like a herd of ants over the rough ground of the Barrington Basin. Lt. Mackenzie Diana led her platoon across the battlefield toward the designated waypoint. The Southern Republic's 4th Division had launched their third assault of the day, trying to drive the remaining forces of the Western Frontier Protectorate back to their home in the north. The two infantry platoons and the sole remaining armored regiment held onto their staked land, recently found to be rich with minerals in a caved-in McAllen Cave.
The southern artillery fire ceased as the two mobile artillery squadrons shifted position. Lt. Mackenzie yelled over the comm as two Black Mambas crested the dune before her, "Down!! Tirez, circle around the base of the dune and get the one on the right! Czerny, you're with me!"
The two Mambas sprayed the ground with their 30mm autocannons, the shells easily tearing through the lightly-armored infantry-men. With terrible pops, grenades were sent forth from the Mambas' shoulders, instantly killing almost one quarter of the Maulers' remaining men and women. Mackenzie was on the ground, making use of the warm sand to scatter her heat signature. She let go with her rifle a the left-most Mamba, just scratching the armor plating. Beside her, Sr. Corporal Mark Czerny, acting Sergeant, fired a 50mm anti-armor rocket. The left-most Mamba staggered backward as the rocket punched through its torso, the autocannon still gripped in its right hand held high, firing wildly. The Black Mamba on the right was being pounded by Tirez's 15 or so men. It fell forward, smoke billowing from its V-engine, a moment after the Mamba on the right rolled backward down the dune. "They're both down. Let's move!"
Running off into the night again, the Maulers, now 24 strong, headed to point Charlie as the air whistled again with impending artillery bombardment.
"That's an order, Corporal!!" Acting Sergeant Czerny stood holding Corporal Jameson's arm. "We can't do anything to help her now! We must stay together until the 63rd gets here, is that understood?!"
Jameson yanked his arm free, staring daggers at Czerny and said slowly, "Look around you, Mark. We've got 8 wounded among only 17 soldiers. The Lieutenant is out there with Tirez and they're still alive. We can't just leave them!" Jameson crawled out of the foxhole and headed towards a dark speck on his night-vision goggles. Tirez and Lt. Mackenzie had fallen with minor wounds while heading for the foxhole at point Charlie. They now lay on the sand, guns clutched close, trying to stay alive as southern infantry marched to take the foxhole. Jameson felt a tug at his leg.
He looked down to see Czerny holding on to him. Jameson hopped to his feet with fury and lifted Czerny to his feet. "You asshole! I'm gonna kill you!" He yanked his survival knife out of its sheath and lunged at the larger acting Sergeant. Czerny parried with his rifle and tripped Jameson, coming down on top of him with his knees. Jameson, lying belly-up with Czerny on top of him, slashed at the Sergeant with the knife, just barely missing the neck. To his right he could see the Lt. and Tirez, sitting back to back as a squad of infantry poured over the nearest dune and cut them down. Jameson screamed and Czerny looked to see what had happened to the Lt. His jaw dropped when he saw the southern infantry squad advancing.
"SONUVABITCH!!!!" Jameson slashed hard and was rewarded with a warm spray of blood on his face. Czerny fell backward, limp, his blood turning the dry sand around his head into red mud. Jameson crawled out from beneath Czerny and grabbed the fallen man's rifle. He screamed in rage, emptying the clip into the incoming infantry squad. To his surprise, the southern infantry men fell, each one of them, riddled full of holes. Then Corporal Jameson turned around, and saw Mackenzie's Maulers, even the injured ones, standing around him, guns in hand, breathing heavily. They had seen the struggle between Jameson and Czerny and they had seen Lt. Mackenzie get slaughtered. They all looked to Jameson expectantly.
Jameson pulled himself together and sucked in his belly, displaying his proud chest and exclaimed, "Pla-TOON! Get Corporal Tirez and Lt. Mackenzie into the hole. Let nobody say that the Maulers left there own behind!"
In the light of the 63rd Airborne's attacks, Mackenzie's Maulers carried there fallen comrades back to point Charlie to be picked up by the 63rd's Evac choppers. As the choppers took off, carrying Mackenzie's Maulers home, Jameson cried, for the platoon had lost their commander, and their mother.
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