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Hello There, Guest!

13-06-2012, 04:33 AM | Post: #1
Well, here it is. My first attempt at a serious war story. I hope you guys like it.

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Chapter one, part one.

“Alright boys, strap your ‘chutes on. We’re nearing the drop zone.” The pilot tried to sound casual but we could tell he was just as scared as we were. I could feel the cargo plane rumble under my feet as it soared through the air, carrying me, my five squad mates, and the pilot, whose voice penetrated through the bulkhead via radio.

Slowly, methodically, I tightened the straps on my parachute and adjusted my goggles. Then I checked Louis’ chute and he double checked mine. “All set.” I radioed forward.

“Opening drop bay. Get ready boys – and good luck.”

The roar was deafening as the door opened, revealing the pitch black sky. I held tightly to a safety belt and motioned for Dresden, a sniper, to prepare to jump. Behind him stood Hal, a sub-machine gun strapped extra-tightly to his backpack. Suddenly our radios crackled with static.

“We’ve been spotted by National AA guns! Jump NOW!”

Even as the words registered in my brain, the sky was lit up with the exploding shells of anti-aircraft artillery, their thunderous booms reverberating through the creaky cargo plane. It took only one look at Dresden to invoke a response. Immediately he hurtled himself out the plane and disappeared into the night sky. Without hesitating, Hal and the others followed suit. I was last. Taking a deep breath, I ran the last few feet to the edge and leaped head first into the inky blackness.

The first thing I noticed was the coldness. Though normal, given the altitude, it still startled me. Then the coldness changed to heat as a shell exploded several yards away. Twisting my shoulders I turned my body just enough to see the cargo ship take a direct hit and split in half. The shelling soon stopped. Trying not to think about the pilot and co-pilot, I judged I had been falling for quite a distance. I ripped the cord on my parachute. As I floated gently down to earth I tried to remember everything I would need to know for the mission that lay ahead.

Lieutenant Commander John Gallagher had been captured in a National raid on the coast. He knew vital information concerning the Royal offensive on the western front. Hastily, a rescue plan was assembled. Myself and five others were rounded up and given the task of rescuing him. Our plan was to parachute undetected into enemy territory under the cover of darkness and sneak our way into the POW camp where he was held. Unfortunately, the Nationals now knew that someone had just parachuted into their homeland. The odds were not looking so good.

Looking down, I noticed the top of a tree branch peering out of the darkness. Adjusting slightly, I avoided it and landed on solid ground forcefully. I buckled my knees and rolled as the parachute drifted lazily to the ground behind me. As soon as I could get my feet under me I unbuckled the parachute from my body and rolled it up, then stashed all of it in a tree.

Ripping my helmet off, I replaced it with a floppy brown officer’s hat. Then I checked my equipment. My sniper rifle was intact, as well as my pistol, which sat in a leg holster. Other than these, my knife, and my map, I had almost no equipment on me. I was thankful I was wearing a heavy paratrooper’s coat. The night air was frigid. After rubbing my gloved hands together, I pulled out my map. A small area had been marked as our landing zone, but no doubt we had missed it. If the trees all around me were any indication, I was close. Assuming we had jumped five minutes ahead of the scheduled time, I was able to roughly pinpoint my location, which was about a mile southeast of the original target. There was no moon, so I used my compass to get my bearings. Then I set out at a brisk run.

When I felt I was nearing the landing zone, I slowed to a jog, then a slow walk. Creeping silently, I kept all my senses on full alert for Nationals.

Then I heard a twig snap to my left. I whirled towards the noise. I could see nothing. I strained my eyes, trying to peer into the darkness, but then I felt someone behind me. Before I could turn something struck me on the back of the neck, and I collapsed. As I fell on the ground I swung my legs, trying to knock my assailant down. It worked. His knees buckled and he landed beside me. I then tried to roll away from him but he was too fast and pinned my arm down. As he drew back his fist to strike me I caught a glimpse of his face. It was Hal.

“Casey! Stand down!” I snapped.

Hal Casey’s eyes widened as he realized what had just happened. “Sergeant Anderson!” he cried, “I’m sorry; I thought you were one of them.” He extended his hand to help me up. I grabbed it and he lifted me to my feet.

After brushing myself off, I asked, “Have you made contact with any of the others?”

He swallowed. “I found Louis. He landed in a tree and broke his neck.”

I looked away.

He continued, “The others were found by a National patrol. I was the only one who escaped.” The finality in his voice confirmed what I had guessed. The two of us were the only ones left.

“We’ll have to complete the mission ourselves then.” I said.

“It’s going to be a lot harder than we thought,” he replied, “The Nationals know we’re here. They’ll be waiting for us.”

“Those were good men we lost. I won’t let their deaths be in vain.”

Hal nodded. “Then we’d better get started.” Motioning towards the clearing, which had been the original landing zone he said, “There’s a road on the other side of that valley. It leads to the prison.”

“Lead the way.” I said.

Silently, we made our way through the trees and underbrush on the right-hand edge of the valley, which was several hundred square yards wide, headed north. We did not speak, only listened. The only sounds we could hear were the sounds of our breathing and the crackle of leaves and twigs underneath our boots. Light from a full moon streamed through the dense tree tops like minute amounts of water dripping through a sponge.

When we drew close to the road Hal motioned with his hand to stop. Crouching behind some scrub brush we listened intensely for several seconds for any sign of life. Assuming we were still west of the POW camp, we would have to turn right. I motioned such to Hal and he nodded. Turning, we made our way west parallel to the dirt road.

After several minutes of silent plodding, I heard something. I motioned with my hand for Hal to stop. We both listened. Faintly but surely we heard a growing noise. It was the sound of an automobile, coming up the road from behind us. Immediately we turned and plunged deeper into the trees and brush away from the road. Finding a small hill with a bush on top we sank down as low as we could. The sound grew louder and before long we could see light from headlamps piercing the darkness. We both ducked our heads as it rounded a bend in the road and its lights shone above our hiding place. We had not been spotted however, and it roared on. I looked up at the last second and caught a glimpse of it as it sped away. It was a National truck.

Once the noise had subsided and the truck had disappeared from view, we emerged from our hiding place and resumed walking. Eventually I could see lights coming from an open field ahead and we stopped. Pulling out my binoculars I peered ahead through the thicket. I could see a metal gate with barbed wire atop. On either side were two small buildings serving as guard posts, and illuminated by the lamps inside I could see at least two guards in each. In front of and beside the little buildings, sandbags were stacked up as barricades, and I could see National soldiers crouched behind them.

We had reached the POW camp.

Lowering my binoculars I handed them to Hal. “That’s it alright. Our objective is in there.”

Looking through them he said, “I can make a distraction.”

Upon outlining the plan to me, he slipped off into the darkness towards the right of the camp. I watched him for a moment then quietly made my way directly towards the camp.

The prison camp was in the middle of a square field, with about fifty yards between the outer fences and the tree line on all four sides. The camp itself looked to be a couple hundred square meters in size. The road led strait to the gate. When I had come as close as I dared to the tree line, almost next to the road, I lay down in a pile of brush and unlimbered my rifle.

The rifle held eight shots before it would have to be reloaded. Peering through the scope I surveyed my targets calmly. There were ten men total. Two in each guard post and six hiding behind the sand bags. I would have to remove the guards on the left guard post the moment Hal had taken care of the two in the other.

I inhaled slowly, and then exhaled even slower. I focused my attention solely on one thing: the man that I was about to kill. My finger rested lightly on the trigger and the crosshair wavered slightly before settling on the face of my first target. At this range it was impossible to miss. I felt nothing; my breathing was slow and concentrated.

Seconds passed, then minutes. The man moved slightly to the right. I compensated. By the expression on his neatly shaved face I could see he was incredibly bored. He blinked slowly, and hearing his comrade say something he turned his head.

Then several things happened at once. There was a “thunk” noise coming from the right hand guard post. Before anyone could react, I squeezed my finger. The rifle bucked, and at the same moment a blinding explosion lit up the night sky. Throwing the bolt in less then a third of a second I peered through my scope once more.

What remained of the right hand guard post sat smoking. The two men inside were long gone, and the legs of one that been standing outside rested on the grass. The five that remained outside turned in the direction that the grenade had come from, and a couple fired their sub-machine guns. The other man standing in the guard post was trying to decide whether to duck or move. He hesitated a little too long and his brains hit the wall behind him. Deftly, I slammed the bolt once more. The Nationals still had not quite figured out what was going on. All were facing Hal’s general direction, and the one in the front was still firing his gun. Letting the scope rest on the chest of the one behind the others, I squeezed the trigger, cocked; fired again. Another dropped.
The three others turned, but it was too late. The crack of my rifle sounded twice more. The last man tried to run, but I compensated, and he fell backwards with a hole in his chest.

All was silent. Then alarm claxons began to sound.

I was up on my feet and running; the ground pounding beneath my feet. We had mere seconds left if we wanted to keep the element of surprise. Hal had burst from the tree line a moment before I had, and we raced perpendicular towards the front gate. Suddenly I was illuminated by a bright light coming from the tower on the far side of the camp. I slid down on one knee and with my last bullet I shot at the spotlight, which was almost impossible to miss at my angle. It shattered and went out. By this time Hal had reached the front gate and had picked up an SMG lying on the ground. He fired point blank at the lock on the gate, shattering it. Then he dropped the gun and shoved the gate open. I caught up to him and we both took off to the left, racing for the corner. When we got there we stopped for a moment.

Hal was breathless, “We did it. We got in,” he said, “Apparently these things were designed to keep people in, not out.”

“Well, now we’re the ones who are in,” I replied. The sirens were still wailing. “We’ve got to move fast if we want to keep ourselves and the Commander alive.”

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope to write part two as soon as I can, so stay tuned!
Edit: I tried to indent each paragraph, but it wouldn't let me, so I double spaced them. Hope this makes it easier to read.

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Hey forum regulars! Click here to read the Noob Chronicles! (This post was last modified: 15-06-2012 02:06 AM by AlphaDawg.)
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13-06-2012, 11:14 AM | Post: #2
Nice story. But maybe you should put them in paragraph phrases. Would be easier to read then.

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20-07-2012, 10:38 PM | Post: #3
Not that much attention.

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25-08-2012, 04:03 AM | Post: #4
Here is the rest of the story. I finally found time to finish.

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Chapter one, part two.

The sounds of pandemonium began to fill my ears as I bolted past the buildings, the fence whizzing by in a blur. Then I heard gunshots and yelling. The entire camp was in an uproar.

Hal was doing his job well. Our spur-of-the moment plan was simple: Open the prison barracks and cause a ruckus, making it easy to slip past the heavily-guarded building where the Commander was being held. So far it was working. The first to escape grabbed the weapons of the men at the front gate, and it went from there. Now Hal was leading an assault on the enemy garage, trying to secure a vehicle for escape. I was attempting to rescue the objective.

As I ran past a building, a National man burst from a door just ahead of me. I stopped, leveling my pistol at his chest, and fired. He dropped without a scream.

I drew close to the wooden building where the Commander was being held, or at least I assumed he was, if what the other Royals had said was correct. I slowed, gripping my handgun cautiously. Sidling up to the adjacent building I peered around the corner then jerked my head back quickly. Two National guards jogged past. When the coast was clear, I lunged past the open clearing, rammed into the wooden door, and slammed it behind me.

Inside I took in my surroundings in a heart beat. Two men stood merely ten feet away and to the left, their guns relaxed at their sides but rising in my direction. A third man was sitting on a bench across from them, a machine gun resting on his lap. All three looked slightly surprised, but were obviously prepared, and had been since the alarm went off. Their surprise would be fatal.

My pistol was already aiming in front of me, and I pulled the trigger with careful precision. The first man flew backwards into the wall, blood blossoming from his chest. His comrade managed to aim his gun in my direction, but was just not fast enough, and he flew backwards with a hole in his abdomen. I turned to the third man and fired, but he was too quick. Diving onto the floor with his machine gun in his grasp, he rolled to a squatting position and aimed at me. This, however, gave me plenty of time to compensate, and I fired at near point-blank range into the top of his head.

I ran past the three lifeless bodies and to the doorway at the other side of the room. A quick glance showed me a room with three barred cells, one of them empty. I strode forward and looked through the bars.

An exited gasp could be heard. “You’re Royal!” it exclaimed.

“Lieutenant Commander Gallagher?” I asked.

“By Jove, you’ve come to rescue me! I knew something was happening when I heard the gunfire.”

“Where are the keys to this cell?”

“Did you kill the guards? One of them probably has a key,” the man whispered.

I turned and ran back into the other room. A quick search yielded what I wanted. Gripping the keys, I returned to the cell.

“What is going on out there?” came the voice from the other occupied cell.

“Prisoners are loose. We came to get the Commander out,” I replied, fumbling with the keys. Before I could unlock the door however, a loud crash could be heard from the other room. Leaving the keys, I drew my handgun once more and turned to the doorway and peered around. I saw two men standing in the threshold, surveying their three friends lying on the floor. Then they saw me. One of them yelled and opened fire, but not before I fell backwards onto the floor. The deafening roar of automatic fire ceased almost as quickly as it started. Apparently they did not want to hurt the Commander.

Taking the chance, I lunged back towards the doorway and fired my pistol at the two assailants. One fell, but the other dove behind a pile of crates. I fired at his hiding place, hoping one of the bullets would penetrate it, but he rose up unharmed. Now I was out of ammunition, and he knew it. I swung out from sight as he vaulted over the crate. No time to draw my knife. As he came around the corner, I lunged into him like a bull, hoping to knock him off balance. The back of his head hit the doorway and his gun arm went wide, the gun flying from his grasp. Then he brought both his hands down upon my neck and I fell to the floor, taking him with me.

We landed apart from each other and rolled to our feet. I drew my knife, but he swung his leg and kicked it out of my hand. Then he struck at me with his arm, and I leaned in and took the punch while driving my own fist into his abdomen. His strike glanced off my shoulder while mine drove the wind out of him. Without hesitating I extended the fingers of my other hand and jabbed it into his throat, then began to barrage his head and neck with blows.

Even as I beat the man senseless, another stepped through the open door with his gun leveled. Seeing him, I grabbed my assailant and held him in front of me, in an attempt to use him hostage. He squirmed, but I held fast. His friend leveled the gun at us both.

“Don’t shoot!” cried the man in my grasp, “He has no weapon!”

“I’ll break his neck!” I yelled.

The man with the gun hesitated, and then said, “Give it up. There’s nowhere you can go.”
I knew I was trapped. There was no way out of this one.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot from behind me and the man flew backwards. I looked over my shoulder to see the prisoner who had been in the cell next to the Commander. They had both gotten free with the key I had left in the keyhole, and now the former stood with the gun that had dropped to the floor.

Raising my arm above my head, I brought it down on the National’s neck and he slumped to the floor. Turning around I picked up my pistol and reloaded it. Then looking at my rescuer I said, “What’s your name?”

“Jake Mullen, Sir,” he answered. Jake Mullen had a full beard of jet black hair from rotting in prison, and was incredibly broad shouldered, dwarfing Gallagher beside him. His bright blue eyes were hardened by war.

“Commander,” I said, turning to him, “The chaos is still raging. We have to go now. Both of you stay right behind me.”

Turning, I strode to the door and peered outside. The immediate coast was clear, so I bolted for the nearest building with both men on my heels.

“How are we going to get out of here?” asked the Commander when we stopped.

“You’ll see,” I answered, then peered into the courtyard. I could see the dusky grey light of dawn, but Hal was not in sight. The doors of the garage were closed. Suddenly half a dozen National guards spotted us and began to fire at our hiding spot. It was now or never.
“CASEY!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

No response.

“Put down your weapons!” came a cry. I answered with a couple of blind shots.

Hiding behind the corner of the building, I could not see the Nationals, but I could hear them as they moved to try and surround us. I was about to tell the Commander to run for it when a deafening crash came from the direction of the garage. Looking from cover I saw a National truck burst through the door, followed by more trucks and jeeps. All were manned by Royals in their prison clothes wielding National machine guns. The Nationals completely forgot us as they were scattered by the onslaught of vehicles.

A jeep pulled up in front of us. Hal was behind the wheel.

“Good timing, chap,” I said as I motioned for Gallagher and Mullen.

“We’re not out of this yet,” answered Hal Casey even as more Nationals appeared, “Get in!”
The National jeep had two seats in front and a bench seat in the rear. I helped Gallagher into the passenger seat, and then sprung into the back. Lying on the floorboards were two National heavy machine guns.

“Jake Mullen!” I yelled, “Can you operate one of these?”

“Yes, Sir!” he hollered back over the gunfire as he climbed in beside me.

“Hit it, Casey!” I pounded Hal on the shoulder.

Then Hal hit the gas and the jeep roared to life. It shot forward towards a National, who just barely got out of the way.

“Keep your heads down!” Hal cried as we raced toward the fence. We all ducked as low as we could just before we struck the partially open gate and shot through it.

A National guard tried to shoot us as we passed by, but Gallagher dropped him with a well placed burst with his stolen SMG. Then we sped away, leaving the prison camp in the dust.

The jeep bounced and bumped along the dusty road Hal and I had traveled to reach the camp. Soon we passed around bend after bend, leaving the POW camp far behind. I could see the sun peering through the trees now, its light illuminating the forest greens in a soft light.

“What about the other prisoners?” asked Gallagher after he had caught his breath.

Hal answered, “I told them they were on their own from here. There’s nothing more we can to for them. Our mission was to get you out, and we’ve accomplished that.”

“Not yet,” I said, pointing to up the road, “They have a different idea.”

As we came around the curve, several trucks came into view. They were blocking the road, and were surrounded by armed soldiers.

“Hold on to your hats, mates!” yelled Hal.

With that, he yanked the steering wheel to the left and we shot straight into a bush, flattening it.

“Are you mad?!?” cried Gallagher.

Hal did not answer; he was trying to avoid the trees.

Crashing and thundering through the woods, the jeep felt as if it would be ripped apart. I clutched the MG as hard as I could.

Then, all of the sudden, the jeep bumped right back onto the road, and we roared on.
“How did you know the jeep would make it?” asked Mullen.

“I didn’t!” Hal yelled back.

“How did you know which way to turn when you got out?” I asked.

Hal was about to respond, but when we came around the corner, he was shocked to discover a roadblock sitting in our path – the same one we had just avoided.

A group of stunned Nationals turned towards us, trying to decide whether friend or foe even as Hal slammed the brakes and spun the jeep around. Jake and I fired the MG’s, but our shots went wide and the Nationals jumped into their trucks and began to pursue.

“Casey, you numbskull!” I griped.

The National trucks roared after us, both of them churning up the gravel road. We fired our MG’s at their tires, but to no avail. In response, a machine gun appeared over the cab of the lead truck and began to light up the road with its thunderous roar. I yelled to Hal to attempt evasive maneuvers, but he had already heard the shots.

The shots whizzed by, sending up showers of dirt which were left behind in an instant as we sped down the narrow road at top speed. Mullen was obviously more prepared to use the machine guns than I was, and his bullets came very close to the National truck, but to no avail. I aimed for the windshield of the cab, only to find that it was bulletproof glass. The truck swerved, but held its course. A stray bullet found our rear bumper. Were it not for the Commander, we would be Swiss cheese.

Hal yelled something I could not hear. “What?!?” I screamed back.

“Lose the MG’s!” he yelled, louder.

“Are you crazy?”

“Do it!”

Jake and I unceremoniously dropped the guns. They were crushed seconds later by the truck, which roared louder than ever in its attempt to overtake us.

After a few moments, however, the truck began to drop back. Even though the MG fired as thunderous as before, it gradually began to grow farther and farther away as Hal pushed the jeep to its limits. Before long we were out of its range.

“We’re losing them!” said Jake.

“No, they’re slowing for a reason,” I replied.

“Might it have something to do with that bridge?” inquired Gallagher.

The bridge which Gallagher had indicated was a couple hundred yards ahead. As we crested a hill it came into full view. It crossed over a ravine several hundred feet deep, at the bottom of which was a flowing creek. The bridge itself was a wooden beam bridge two lanes wide, and almost 30 feet across – or, at least, it used to be.

“They’ve blown the bridge! We’re trapped!” Now Jake was truly afraid.

Hal did not slow, however. I knew what he was thinking.


Gallagher looked at Hal, then at me. Then it dawned on him. “No, you can’t! That’s suicide!”
“It’s our only chance,” Hal shot back. The bridge was drawing closer.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Gallagher feebly.

We were mere yards away from the bridge now, all of us holding on to the jeep in sheer terror. The bridge loomed closer and closer.

“I can’t look,” said Jake, and closed his eyes.

Next chapter coming soon! Feedback is welcome! Constructive or otherwise!

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Hey forum regulars! Click here to read the Noob Chronicles! (This post was last modified: 25-08-2012 05:05 PM by AlphaDawg.)
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31-08-2012, 07:48 PM | Post: #5
Very well written, worth the read guys!

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07-09-2012, 08:20 AM | Post: #6
awsome story

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04-10-2012, 07:53 PM | Post: #7
Cool story bro! Well written. Keeps my interest. Great first try.
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04-10-2012, 08:09 PM | Post: #8
Cool story bro! Well written. Keeps my interest. Great first try.
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24-10-2013, 04:34 PM | Post: #9
Pretty good story.
If only we could apply it in the game.
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