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Closing with the Enemy Chapter 3 Death on the Front
Posted By: monitor101<wasup1989@hotmail.com>
Date: 17 November 2003, 11:12 PM
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(Firebase Echo, Planet Jericho II, grid fifteen by twenty five, sector four, three miles north of Firebase Delta, 1110 hours, 2552, Major John Lance, commander Baker Company)
"Alright men get settled in its going to be a long day," Major Lance said as he crouched down in the newly dug Baker/Juliet Company's command foxhole. The hole had been dug in fast and it was small and cramped.
For the past five or so minutes the force of the combined company's had pulled off an old layer of fake grass to reveal several small and large foxholes, then they put sand bags around them. The men of Echo base had dug these foxholes three weeks ago and covered them with metal plates so nothing would fall through and covered them with fake grass. Lance had two command foxholes, one for him and Olsen to command Baker, the other for Sergeant Major Chris Cove, a rugged six foot four inch giant of a man who didn't take kindly to pansy Marines who didn't take the war seriously. Cove and his second in command LT. Dan Jackson occupied the second command foxhole.
"Well Johnny old boy recon's a saw them Covies moving up, lets give 'em some hell eh!" the forty four year old Sergeant Major yelled over to Lance not ten feet away.
"Hell yah," Lance said smiling at the old Hill Billy's remark.
"Alright boy lets give it to them nice and hard," the restless Cove said as he cycled the bolt on his MA5B and aimed.
"Fire on sight," Lance said into his com link. He received acknowledgments from each of the platoon sergeants.
The Marines had placed a line of Marines and Warthogs, dug into foxholes and hiding behind sandbags, the line was about a hundred yards across and fifty yards from the opening in the forest (from the Wraith).
Cove took aim just as two Grunts popped out of the bushes. They were instantly cut down before a plasma orb could escape their weapons. "Did the Covies grow a brain and decide to go another way?" Cove asked no one in particular.
Suddenly several bushes began to rumble and Grunts and Jackals poured out of the opening and plasma poured from their ranks.
"Nope their still stupid!" Jackson blurted and opened with his MA5B.
"Figures," Cove muttered as he sprayed a group of Grunts charging the line.
Tracers cut through the air mowing down the front lines of the Grunts. The Jackals were able to hold for a few seconds longer until an endless barrage of human projectiles found their marks. The MA-60s especially did their part as their thick rounds popped into the charging enemy.
"Shit!" Lance screamed as a plasma orb flashed past his head. He ducked and felt he air crackle. The sand bags in front of them were peppered and peppered with orbs of plasma. Lance looked ahead at the opening in the forest; endless waves of Covenant kept streaming out. All around him men were getting hit.
"Fuck!" Collins screamed as plasma washed over the sand bag and molten bits flew everywhere. Collins gripped the MA-60 and opened up on the tightly packed group of Grunts who had fired on him. Ahead of him the tracers flew into the Grunts and they all fell head over heal, tripping over their dead and confusingly running around while getting shot.
Suddenly his ammo runner, PFC James Galloway was hit by one of those pink needles that Grunts shot. Galloway fell back, dropping his SMG, screaming. The needle exploded in his chest and blood sprayed out, covering the side of Collins face, the screams stopped.
"Shit medic!" Jones yelled at top of his lungs, dropping the ammo belt and crawling to the other side of the foxhole and picking up Galloway. Jones looked down at his lifeless friend, his face was pale and blood flowed from his chest in a steady stream.
Then a plasma bolt slammed into Jones back and he slumped over, falling onto Galloway. The ammo carrier PFC Buzz Trenton finished his MA2B clip and dropped the weapon. He crawled over to Jones, dropping the belts of ammo snaked around his neck.
"Dammit I need ammo!" Collins screamed at Trenton.
Trenton grabbed a belt and jammed it into the 60 and Collins opened up again, in short bursts so not to waste it all. The slightly larger foxhole for the MA-60 which barely fit four men, was crowded and the two standing men could barely move.
"Hey is Jamie dead?" Collins yelled to Trenton.
Trenton ducked from plasma and pulled Jones off Galloway. "Yah he's dead," Trenton yelled back.
"Then get him outta the foxhole, there's not enough room," Collins yelled as he fired the MA.
"I'll miss ya buddy," Trenton said as he struggled to lift the lifeless Galloway out of the hole. As soon as he dropped him his body was riddled with plasma.
"Ah I'm hit...I'm hit!" Collins screamed, clutching his shoulder, blood seeped in between his fingers.
Trenton leaned over to Collins and pried his hands off. The plasma had flash fried all the muscle and most of the blood had boiled. He could see the white shoulder bone poking out of the wound. Already blood was creeping out. Trenton pulled his pack of his back and took out a tube of self sealing bio-foam. After squeezing some into the wound he pulled out a little morphine syringe, out of a plastic bag. After biting off the protective plastic cap he poked it into Collin's arm and injected the fluid.
Medic Sam Caskey was covered with blood; he had crawled from hole to hole and patched up wounded. The challenge was keeping the wounded still and crawling with a thirty pound pack, twenty pounds of body armor, and a heavy weapon, meanwhile throwing his pack along as not to get it shot at, and shooting of an occasional burst. All around him men were screaming "MEDIC" or "Caskey we got a guy hurt bad."
He was towards the left end of the long line of foxholes. Caskey slowly crawled over to one of the four MA-60 holes. A bloody body lay outside the hole, the body was scorched with plasma, in the hole on one was firing the big gun and two guys were sitting with wounds, one looked dead and the other was breathing heavily, passed out. A fourth man whom Caskey recognized as PFC Trenton, he was exchanging fire with the charging Covenant.
"What's the situation here?" Caskey asked, dropping into the six foot deep hole.
"Jones and Collins are hit, and Galloway's dead. I patched up Collins but he went into shock. Jones is pretty screwed up too," Trenton replied then got back to firing.
The little medic turned Jones over to see his back wound. Blood flowed in a river from it and blackened muscle showed. Caskey pulled out a knife and carefully scrapped off the dead muscle off the spine and other bones. He put some antiseptic on the open wound and pouted in bio-foam. He injected a shot of morphine into the unmoving Marine. After covering the foam with gauze he remembered to check for a pulse...there was none. "Dammit!" he screamed throwing of his helmet only the put it back on as plasma shot past his head. He set it aside and went on to check on Collins.
Trenton quickly dropped his assault rifle as a needle hit it and exploded. A shower of micro shrapnel sprayed into his face. His hands flew up to his face and covered it. He fell to the bottom of the hole with a loud "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
"What what is it?" Caskey demanded as he pried Trenton's hands away from his eyes. Blood was flowing down in a stream from several deep gashes that were scattered around his face. Caskey was dabbing Trenton's forehead with gauze when two plasma bolts slammed into the hole; one hit his med pack and the other into the dead Jones.
Caskey screamed and grabbed his pack to see how extensive the damage was when two needles hammered into his back and exploded. Caskey went limp and slumped into Trenton's lap.
"Oh shit," Trenton murmured. He gently set Caskey's body off his lab and looked at the carnage surrounding him. Trenton said a quick prayer, scooped up some belts of ammo and opened up with the MA-60 on the closing enemy. It would be later discovered that he had killed over a hundred Covenant around his hole (he later won the Silver Star).
Lance ejected a spent clip from his weapon and slapped a fresh one in. He knew his men couldn't hold. The enemy had kept on coming and wouldn't cease. Little did any of the Marines on the frontlines realize that it had stopped raining and the fog was setting in, making visibility zero. Lance peered in through the low fog at an approaching hoard of Elites. He killed one with the rest of his clip, dropped the weapon, and pulled the pin on a grenade. After a warning shout he ducked behind the sandbags and a bright explosion rocked the battle field followed by several others.
Suddenly a bright green blob of plasma raced past and exploded in a hole to the left, not six feet away from Lance's hole. A heat wave washed over Lance and others. The sandbags on the left side of his hole, blew into the hole; the sand inside them had turned to glass.
"What the hell was that?" Olsen screamed next to him, followed by screams.
"Damn spec ops Grunts," Lance said looking up.
Sergeant Ted Murphy stood behind a LAAG turret in the back of a Warthog, which was one of fifteen parked behind the long line of foxholes. "Whoa" he muttered as a plasma orb raced past dangerously close to his neck. The black sergeant wiped the rain drops off his mustache and opened up with the LAAG on the group of spec ops Grunts who appeared out of the fog. His whole body shook as he fired for a minute at the charging enemy. "Shit!" He screamed as plasma washed against the protective plate and one went in between them. He ducked and came to his feet only to see that the barrel was melted over. "Well that blows," he said as he hopped out of the turret and took out his MA5B and opened fire.
"Sergeant Murphy every turrets been destroyed," a Marine named Private Connor said coming up to him.
"Well then tell the gunners to take up their rifles and join me at the front," the brave Sergeant said running among the foxholes and hopping into one.
"Yes sir, come on you heard him let's go!" Connor yelled at his squad mates.
"Major you guys doing okay it don't look to good from here?" Colonel Hood's voice filled Macmillan's field radio receiver.
"Give me that," Lance said taking it from Macmillan.
"Yah Colonel things aren't looking to good," Lance replied.
"Yes it looks like you guys are getting hammered pretty well."
"That's not even half of it."
"Well I'll send in a few Pelican's to pick the wounded and finished off that wave of Covenant, our scopes show that there are nearly two thousand in a small field and in the trail that's about two miles long, that trail was made by that first Wraith."
"Sir we need to pull back, we can't keep fighting them off, and we have a hell of a lot of wounded and dead. Our ammo is low and both company's will be nothing in a short time if we don't fall back," Lance urged.
"Are...okay I'm sending in Pelican's to pick you up, we're withdrawing your force from the frontlines," Hood said with hesitation.
"Yes sir thank you sir, what's your next game plan?"
"Don't worry about that right now, just worry about you and your men, expect in under a minute, Hood out."
"Mac tell the platoon commanders that we'll be picked up soon, and as soon as the Pelican's arrive to load up the wounded and dead first then the living, but tell squads A through F to load up their dead and wounded then their living mount up on the Warthogs and drive them back to base," Lance said, throwing Macmillan the handset.
Lance sprayed bullets into the approaching Covenant. They mostly consisted of Grunts who tripped over their dead and blindly ran into jackals, knocking them over, while being caught in barrages of gunfire. Lance was on his last clip when a low hum came from overhead and a snapping sound filled the air, as several Pelican Dropships came in low and sprayed the oncoming enemy with their chain guns. They also launched their payload of rockets into the ranks of the Covenant. Bright flashes lit up the thickening fog.
Lance and Olsen got out of their hole and walked to a Warthog. Lance got into the passenger seat and looked ahead at the carnage. The foxholes that were fifty or so yards from the opening, the holes were blood splotched and the part of grass that the Covenant had amassed between the foxhole line and the forest trail was covered with dead Covenant bodies. Thousands were scattered across the fifty by one hundred yard area. Some wounded Covenant would try and crawl away or get up and hobble away but were shot. Craters from explosions were scattered among the foxholes. Lance glanced at the Pelicans that were hovering above the ground and were being loaded with men. He could see blood dripping out of the troop bay deck and into the muddy grass.
"Let's go," Lance said as Macmillan hopped into the driver's seat and turned the Warthog around.
Of the one hundred and thirty men of the combined forces of Baker and Juliet companies, ninty six died, and only twenty three were not injured.
(Field Master Orna 'Orsamee, commander of Covenant forces on Jericho II)
"Well how did it go?" 'Orsamee demanded impatiently .
"Well the humans placed frontline troops as expected and they fought our oncoming forces. All the 1500 troops were annihilated. But we inflicted heavy casualties of the humans," 'Fasamee replied shaky.
"Obviously another mistake, never attack the enemy's front, I didn't think the interlopers would be this smart we will have to think of another strategy. How is the progress of the second base?" the main gold Elite demanded again.
"They are meeting great resistance since that base has more numbers of humans than the main one, but they are slowly pushing them back."
"Well tell him to progress faster or you and he will face the Council, gather our field commanders so that we can plot a strategy and to keep the enemy from doing anything stupid at the main base, send in Banshees to harass them, we will plan for now."
"Yes Excellency," 'Fasamee bowed and went off to carry out his orders.
To Be Continued...
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