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Realistic or Modern Ｂｅｓｉｅｇｅｄ

Suddenly, a barrage of bullets escaped from the dense forest, hitting the jeep with loud pings. One of the bullets hit Manuella's arm, making her yelp in pain. She quickly jumped out of the jeep and knelt beside it, using it as cover. She hoped the others were fine.
Pulling the shotgun's pump, she was ready to fight, although she didn't get to see where the attackers were situated in the forest.
"Can't get a visual on the enemy's location!" She announced, wondering whether to blind fire or not.
Kabboom Kabboom
 
"Northwestern COP." I said to myself, turning and jogging toward them. As I was jogging I saw a jeep that was under some heavy fire, with a few others around it. I ran over and slid into the jeep, pressing up next to it. "Ensign Ashley Winters, I'm with 2nd Battalion, we are getting you back to the FOB, M'am!" I told her, propping up for a second and fire into the treeline, hearing a shout of pain as I managed to hit someone. I crouched back down and glanced at her, suddenly realizing who she was. "Wait, your the woman who made the defib thing, right?" I asked.
 
Manuella stared blankly at the woman, surprised to hear her question. Despite still being under fire, behind her balaclava, she smiled. It seemed like word of her defibrillator had spread around here quickly, and she was glad that was the case.
"Yeah, but right now we've got more pressing matters on our hands." She said over the gunshots. Manuella peaked up from behind the jeep, searching for the attackers. She spotted a few of them behind the dense vegetation and got up, shooting her shotgun in their direction.
She managed to take down three of them before her brain was crushed by assault rifle rounds, jerking her body backwards and maing it land on the dirt with a sickening thud.
LoneSniper87 LoneSniper87
 
"Wait, no!" I shouted, but my words came to late as I watched the medic take a bullet to the head. I clutched myrifle tighter and closed my eyes, mumbling a small prayer for her. I opened my eyes and stood up, quickly swapping from enemy to enemy, taking small bursts and killing the remaining three enemies. I dropped back down and sighed, shakily searching her for her difibtilator. I grab it and put it into one of my pouches on my vest. I also, after a moment of searching, grabbed her dog tags. "Sergeant Lawarance!" I say, moving over to him. "Are you alright?"
 
July 18, 2017
12:16 PM
D Company's 22nd day in Grindes

Cpt. Richter Wiltshire

Fuck.

Things are getting worse. I can see enemy fire pouring onto all 3 COPs now. The Northwest COP's defenders seem to have been neutralized, as the firing has died down there. Oh no. But on the bright side, gunfire is still sporadic and continuous on the two remaining COPs, so that means they're still alive. For now.

I turn to my men again. The medic's advanced to the North-West COP, but I couldn't find her there on my binoculars just now. Some of the men I ordered to move appear to still be prepping. I take my right hand out, and throw it haphazardly in a commanding gesture. "C'mon, move it, move it, move it! Our boys are dying at the front!"

I turned back to the front, and after a few moments of scanning the horizon with my binoculars, I spot a jeep near the North-East COP, taking heavy fire. Wait, that's where my XO is. Forrest, shit, is she okay? She better not be dead, it's rare to find good Lt.'s on this part of the line. I can see they're taking a few casualties.

My radioman turns to me, apparently having found a signal. A faint one, with heavy static. Short-wave comms. It's a guy from B Company, they've sent him here to contact me on a jeep. That confirms my suspicions. There are enemy jammers. They're not fucking around this time. The voice of the panicked man reported a grim situation.

"Word from B Company, sir! Enemy attack on their position, with artillery support and armored vehicles! We need backup, over!" Without hesitation, I replied into the radio. "Copy, we're facing the same thing here. Reinforcements inbound to your position shortly! Over!"

This day is getting worse and worse.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sgt. Lawrence Lambert

"Ah, shit!" I exclaimed as enemy bullets whizzed my way. Like a cat, I sprung from my seats, and behind the comfy cover of a metal jeep. The metallic plinking indicated that a lot of enemy guns were trained on our position. And based on that high pitched fizzing noise I hear... I'm gonna have to drive on a flat tire on our way out. If we get out, that is.

I could hear a bullet digging into someone's flesh, and then a thud, as the defibrillator girl's lifeless corpse dropped to the ground with a hole in her helmet. Shit. Richter's not gonna be happy about that. As retaliation, I got my M16A2 from the usual spot from the jeep, narrowly avoiding a few bullets in the process, and begun returning fire. Blind fire, that is. I don't know how effective it is, really, but it's better than sitting around.

A girl, seemingly a medic, who had joined us shortly after we came under fire, came over and inspected the body, grabbing her defibrillator and dog tags in the process. She turned to ask about my situation. "Yeah, I'm good! We're waiting for the Company XO to join us, then we get the hell out of here!" I replied, giving her a thumbs up, as I took a break from blind firing.

Where the hell is that Lieutenant?

Trappy Trappy LoneSniper87 LoneSniper87 The Cobalt Killer The Cobalt Killer The Omen of Death The Omen of Death Illusive Illusive Loki777 Loki777 Elekta Kount Elekta Kount adrian_ adrian_ Pilgrim59 Pilgrim59
 
Day 1 - 12:36:31 FST (Femos Standard Time)
Designate: Romeo-Victor "BRAVO 1-1"
Pfc. Dimitri "Dima" Mayakovsky
22nd Division, 3rd Battalion, B Company
Northern Barracks, Grindes, Femos


Before Dimitri could get a response from the man, a few rounds whistled by and lodge itself into the grassy soil and whatever is left of the barrack's defensive structures. The Ambrian quickly grabbed and threw the shot-gunner into the ground, and hugged the ground shortly after - just as a rifle grenade exploded just barely ten meters away from them. Getting from the ground, the two grabbed cover. Dimitri unsafetied, bolted and raised his SKS, returning fire. As he peak from his cover every now and then, he can spot a sizable amount of hostile forces advancing towards their position in dispersed formation, accompanied by some light vehicles stationed in the distant treeline. The situation was clear, Grindes is now part of the front line, and all that remains of a dull life in the rear was now all but gone.

KA-PICH KA-PICH went Dimitri's rifle in controlled bursts, reserving as much ammo as he can, while the rest of B Company organize a defensive formation. The skirmish lasted about half an hour long before the last of the wounded was driven back to the FOB. By now, the barracks was barely holding with a platoon-sized garrison. During the exchange of fires, Ambrian forces displayed firepower superiority, albeit at the expense of the compound's garrison ammunition, while hostile forces have acquired a higher amount of casualties. Hostile forces broke off and attempted to regroup within the northern woods, giving the garrison a moment to catch their breathe. Taking cover behind a broken wall, Dimitri reloaded and redistributed his extra magazines from his load-bearing vest. Just as he got up to scan the surrounding area, the silent truce was broken by hostile cries of war.

Breaking from the treeline, waves of dispersed infantry and light vehicles converged on the barracks. The enemy, despite their mediocre tactics, was determined to take the Ambrian grounds. Fearing for the worse, Dimitri turned towards the men and stated:
"We need to regroup with the rest of D-Company north of the FOB. This compound is done for. Return fire and go in groups of three."

Dimitri then proceeded to suppress fire as the rest of the garrison take their turns falling back to the FOB. Being the last group to leave, Dimitri grabbed his canteen of water, along with two tin cans and some cut paracords from the barracks. He then loaded and bolted as much weapons as he can find lying around, with the help of his shotgun companion. Attaching the extended paracords together, he positioned the tin cans on top of each other. The one on top being filled with water, while the bottom attached to the paracords. His partner would position the rifles in stable, static positions that would mitigate the recoils. Having done so, Dimitri poured some water onto the top can, burdening the pressure of the bottom, which in turn triggered the paracord's attachment to the rifles' triggers. The two then make their way southward towards the FOB, while Dimitri's device goes off on its own, firing towards the woods - deceiving the enemy into thinking that the Ambrian garrison was still inside. Before the attacker could find out about the empty compound, the garrison was already long gone.
 
Last edited:
Lt. Elizabeth Forrest

"CLEAR THE BUILDING! MAN YOUR POSTS I SAY! GET UP GOD DAMN IT!" I yell at the soldiers and officers in the room, cowering behind cover, stunned and shocked by the surprise attack. Good heavens, what the fuck has gone wrong?! Someone at home owes us an answer for this, a proper one! Just why are we getting attacked?! I turn to a support gunner present in the room, lying in a corner with a frightened expression on his face and his shaking hands pressed hard against his ears. I reach, pull on him and yell. "Get to your firing position gunner! Return fire! A sitting duck is a dead one!"

I said it, and I meant it. We are surely going to die if we don't act fast. Based on the whizzing sounds of bullets being fired at us, we're looking at a large force. A major, deliberate attack on an Ambrian outpost. Madness. I leave the room, and head outside. No, I do not intend to abandon this outpost and flee before the rest of the men. It is expected of a commander to remain by their men's side in a battle, and that is what I plan to do.

The path leading to the trenches had no cover whatsoever, and so corpses litter the narrow path. Poor lads didn't even get a chance to fight back. They were brutally mowed down the moment they left the buildings. I make it to the defensive positions with an uneasy, mysterious feeling in my chest. The trenches dug around the outpost's main facilities are mediocre at best. They are barely higher than my waist, and severely lacked sandbags and other reinforcements. Shit, we're in no position for such a fight. Can't really blame the engineers, none of us expected this to happen. But it seems despite all preparation of our defenses, there is still room for improvement.

Men crouched along the shallow, dusty trenches, rifles in their hands. A sergeant with a proud moustache gives me a proper salute as I enter the small, low bunker, to whom I raised a salute in return. He is accompanied by a number of high-ranking staff, gathering around a small, round table with a map of the outpost and an old radio.

"A jeep is waiting for you outside, Ma'am. The Captain sent for you."

"I'm staying, Sergeant, I'll oversee the defence of -"

Before I get to finish my sentence, the tall sergeant stepped forward, hands balling to form a fist.

"Lieutenant Forrest, you are required by the Captain. You're the Company XO, not a bloody infantryman. Please bring our wounded with you back to the FOB. We'll buy you some time."

And before I could open my mouth, he interrupted, again.

"Some-time. Lieutenant. Go, now!"

I turn to face the rest of the staff. Young men with determined looks on their faces. I couldn't talk them out of it. They've already made up their minds then, fully aware of the consequences. Fuck, why is this happening?! God damn it. God-fucking-damn-it!

I dash towards the jeep and spotted Sergeant Lambert with a medic. The uneasiness keeps getting worse and worse. It feels like there's a bag brick stuffed into my chest, choking and weighing me down.

"Drive, Sergeant." - I say bluntly, before spotting a corpse with a deformed head near the jeep. The defib girl, though I barely recognise her now. I read the reports about her the other day. Fuck, the day gets worse and worse.

LoneSniper87 LoneSniper87 The Cobalt Killer The Cobalt Killer The Omen of Death The Omen of Death Illusive Illusive Loki777 Loki777 Elekta Kount Elekta Kount adrian_ adrian_ Pilgrim59 Pilgrim59 Kabboom Kabboom
 
"Lieutenant?" I ask cautiously, seeing as she was obviously in a bad mood. I rose and opened up one of the doors for her. "Word of warning, it'll be a rough ride back, a tire blew during the encounter, M'am." I told her, shutting the door whenever she entered. "Sergeant, you should be all set to get us back." I said to him, hopping into the back of the jeep, flicking the safety on my rifle and letting it lean against my left leg, barrel skyward.
 
Day 1 - 12:49:00 FST (Femos Standard Time)
Designate: N/A
Pfc. Dimitri "Dima" Mayakovsky
22nd Division, 3rd Battalion, B Company
Northern Barracks, Grindes, Femos

Dimitri and his partner was now back at the FOB. There the young Ambrian stood in awe for a while at the sight of his nervous, but battle-ready B Company. He himself could not be anymore prepared than what he was taught in basic. While the NCO's were tending to their men, Dimitri was only able to report to the Captain himself. His shotgun partner took off and filled his defensive position just a couple meters from the bridge, while Dimitri headed towards the Captain's tent.
"Captain, sir. Private First Class Mayakovsky, B Company reporting. All wounded and KIAs are accounted for. Our company's barracks and main compound are overran, they're hot on our heels, sir. I'd thought it'd be best to gather what's left of our company here instead of sitting there and eat the rest of their mortars. End of report, sir!" Dimitri saluted, before giving the report, followed by a shaken expression of fatigue.

There he stood, awaiting further orders from the Captain, before heading back out towards the next line of defense - the dirt road leading towards the bridge.

Kabboom Kabboom
 
July 18th
1203 hours
Cpl Jason Crowley
3rd Battalion, D Company, 2nd Platoon

I'd been lying prone on a ridge overlooking the city of Grindes for the past five hours with my spotter, Pfc Craig Horrocks. We both lay in silence under the dense and damp foliage, I've never fired my weapon in anger since arriving in this sweatbox but you can never be too safe. My forehead was moist with sweat and my eyes stung as it dripped from my brow but I knew even a second out of focus could be fatal, for myself and for my comrades 100 feet below me. As we both sweltered away in our ghillie suits, Craig elbowed me in the ribs.

"Looks like we got activity alongside the eastern treeline."

I re positioned myself quickly, one eye trained through the scope of my Accuracy International AWM. Trees burst to life as a flock of tropical birds flew in all directions, obviously something or rather someone, had disturbed them. I must have waited one minute but it felt like one hour until I heard what sounding like a series of low cracks of thunder, the sound of light artillery. Enemy mortar rounds arched through the air, finally falling after several seconds with sharp thuds.

"Holy shit...it's happening." Craig says to himself, barely above a whisper.

Company's CO came through the radio but then static. 3 clicks to my 11'o'clock, two violent explosions rocked the northwestern outpost. Whether it was larger caliber arty or they hit an ammo or fuel dump, I don't know but you'd be lucky to make it out of there alive. Suddenly, tracer rounds zipped out of the treeline. They could see our guys on the ground but they were too far out of my effective range and I couldn't get to them if I wanted to, through the density of the trees.

"We have to re position, let's get a move on."

I grabbed my gear and ran into the undergrowth, weaving through trees and dodging thick vines and low hanging branches. My chest pounded and my legs felt like lead as I jumped over a bush of thorns into a shallow puddle, barely keeping my balance. I couldn't feel my hands, I wanted to sit down and vomit but I knew my brothers and sisters lives depended on me and that kept me going.
 
1234 hours
Cpl Jason Crowley
3rd Battalion, D Company, 2nd Platoon

I exit into a clearing, below me, sporadic fire peppers the northeastern COP. I immediately dig in above the ridgeline, training my sights once more into the treeline.

"Fifty plus foot mobiles, roughly two clicks."
"Copy that."

I hold my breath and look through the scope of my rifle. I adjust for wind, south-east, 19 mph. Not bad. The shot rings out across the valley like the crack of a whip. My spotter confirms my kill. First kill since this tour began. First in five years. I can taste something metallic in my mouth. I feel like I'm on auto-pilot as I load another round in the chamber and fire until my mag goes dry. Five rounds, five kills. Thank god I didn't see their faces. Thank god.

The skirmish lasted a half-hour and Craig confirmed another ten kills. The enemy appeared to have retreated, but I knew better. They were just testing us, probing for our weaknesses. My theory proved correct as a column of enemy light vehicles roared out into the clearing with dozens, no, hundreds of soldiers.

"Fuck..they're serious about evicting us. Our men are pulling back, we gotta cover their exit."
"I need another mag here."

I slam another magazine into my rifle. My body has gone numb. My body has gone numb and I wish I was home.
 
July 18, 2017
12:50 PM
D Company's 22nd day in Grindes

Cpt. Richter Wiltshire

I saluted back to the random helpful soldier, the same one he sent to B Company barracks. The troops have successfully been evacuated, and medics are coming out to get the wounded into the tents now. "Alright, thank you, soldier. Get to the front! Defend the bridge! Nothing can get across! Link up with the North COP!" I yelled at the soldier, as he ran off, probably to do that same thing.

As I turned my head, I spot Platoon 2 moving out on jeeps, their pedals to the metal. I get my radioman, and contact their vehicle. "Platoon 2, I need you on the North COP, defending the bridge. Forget Northwest, that place is overrun. I repeat, Northwest is overrun, do you copy? Over." I looked back towards my men in the FOB, fully armed and ready for action. Most of them are moving out on trucks, or jeeps, their platoon commanders acting on the NCO's orders. Good fella, that officer.

A muffled crack enters my ears, snatching my attention back into the horrendous nightmare that is the frontline. Sniper fire? Is that friendly? I look at an NCO, telling him non-verbally to check it out on the comms. He complies, and runs towards a radio room, checking for all known friendly sniper units within the AO. A call then came out, but I'm too focused on the battle to hear what it says.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sgt. Lawrence Lambert

"Yes ma'am!" I said, as bullet after bullet plinked off my jeep's metallic hull. I released the handbrake, and off I went, with a slight jerk backwards, as my body unnaturally accelerated from 0 to 20km/h within less than 5 seconds. There's a slight rocking motion to the left of the vehicle, probably that blown tire.

The gunfire gets quieter as we move away. Not by much, but a bit quieter. Occasionally, a sharp crack of sniper rifle fire could be heard, making my body involuntarily jerk in anticipation for a bullet through my cranium. Mortar fire could be heard echoing through the air, as sporadic gunfire can be heard from other COPs. Damn, I thought we were gonna catch a break here, in Grindes.

The radio set in the jeep has at least 3 medium sized bullet holes through it, so contacting HQ for orders is out of the question. My jaws are shaking ever so slightly, but I can't control it. With a nervous laugh, I try to spark a short conversation. "H-H-Hell, what a day, huh?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sgt. Faris Woods

"AMMO!"

"Cover, get cover!"

"Son-of-a-bitch got me! Need a medic! Aaaah, it hurts!"

"Momma! MOMMA! WHERE ARE YOU?"

These sounds keep echoing through my head, barely audible above the supersonic cracking noises from bullets whizzing by, and the deafening sounds of gunfire, both hostile and friendly. I'm crouched behind a concrete wall, bullets making a dry yet vivid noise as they smack directly into it on the other side. The dust being kicked up from the impacts is making my eyes water.

Three of my men, two of them fresh troops, are being pinned down in a dugout, 3 meters to my right. Also in the concrete bunker with me, are two men, one being a medic, tending to the other's wounds while trying not to vomit over the stench, and the other being a grenadier who is desperately trying to put pressure on a sucking wound that has devastated his neck artery, leaking blood all over the place. On the floor, in the spent bullet casings, in my boots, and my knee pads. And I haven't even started on my own blood.

"Return fire! Put some lead on these fuckers!" I yell desperately over the gunfire, my voice almost trying to tear itself apart, as I manage to get out 10 precise semi-automatic shots, putting down 4 Femosi rebels, charging into grenade range of my men in the dugout. Bullets then started pouring into my position, leaving room for my 3 men to fire. Another mortar round hits very near our position, leaving my left eardrum ruptured, and my face full of dust. Somewhere in my other ear, I can hear faint screaming coming from one of my men. Behind me, the grenadier has succumbed to his wounds, and the medic is reaching for his M16A1.

This North COP can't take much more. We need help. Lots of it.

The Cobalt Killer The Cobalt Killer The Omen of Death The Omen of Death Illusive Illusive Loki777 Loki777 Elekta Kount Elekta Kount adrian_ adrian_ Pilgrim59 Pilgrim59 Trappy Trappy
 
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