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The Maiden Fight:The Mouth of Hell
Posted By: pj-NYkr90<phantomf4@earthlink.net>
Date: 12 July 2003, 4:05 AM
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Recording...
Personal Data Recorder 0234.09.34
Staff Sergeant Randall E. Daniels
Location:UNKNOWN
Pelican Echo789 sped over the landscape, barely 15 feet above the ground. Three others are following her, stocked full of troops and material. I'm on Echo789, along with the eleven other troops that make up Fire Team Sierra. I could overhear the pilot yelling frantically over his COM, talking about a hot LZ. I thought it might be a good time to boost my squad's morale so that they couldn't hear of the events that are sure to come. So I began my pep talk.
"Alright, when we land, regardless of what happens, what's the first thing that you're going to do?" "Get of the dropship," they all replied in unison. "Good, and when we're off the dropship, what are ya'll gonna do?" "Kill the enemy!" "Damn right! Men, will die. So when you stick your hand, into a pile of goo, that used to be your best friend's face, you'll know what to do. Now, when we meet the enemy on solid ground, we're gonna grab 'em by the nose, and we're gonna kick 'em in the ass. And we're not gonna stop kick'n 'em in the ass until they're all dead. We're not going to stop kickin' 'em until they're all smoldering fucked up piles of shit scarred up and pumped full of lead. And when they're all dead, we're gonna take their guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. Is that clear?!" "Yes sir Sergeant."
The fire team was all riled up now. Everybody was a lot more talkative after my pep talk. They were ready to kill the enemy. After all, I've been with them since they were inducted in the Corps. I trained them. Now, they are assassins and warriors, trained for five years to kill the Covenant vermin. They will not stop until they're all gone. They will not question me. I tell 'em to shit, they ask how long, how wide, what color, and where, not why. I tell 'em to shoot, they shoot. They're ready, as they'll ever be.
The chief warrant officer stepped out of the cabin and walked over to me. "We'll be arriving in two, get your men ready." "Right." I set my watch timer for two minutes. "Alright men, let's lock and load." I took out two clips of carbide tipped 5.56mm and put the first into my SOMA5B. The second I put in my ready clip pouch. Then, I pulled out eight shotgun shells. I pumped them into the action and then envisioned a Grunt who would get his head sheared off and splattered against a wall. I cocked the rifle and then put it into 3-round burst mode.
"Let's go!" I jumped from the dropship and then urged my troops on. Enemy plasma screeched overhead. The air around my squad sizzled and scorched. "Grenade!" My Sergeant, Arthur Sanchez, primed a frag grenade and threw it. It landed in between a group of Grunts who were advancing on Fire Team Alpha's position with Fuel Rod Cannons. In a furious explosion, seven Grunts went up in flames and burned into little piles of ash. When all of the fire team was clear of our dropship, it dropped of our Warthog, Sally.
Sally has been with the division for a year. Her guns have claimed more than three hundred kills. She has recently been upgraded to handle a gauss grenade launcher, which we immediately installed after it was delivered. HQ told us that we'd need to get rid of the chain gun in order to install it. But we said no to that. My squad's Tech Sergeant, Andrew Donahew, and the Rocket Jockey Alan Manning, fixed it so that the chain gun's alternate was firing thirty-millimeter grenades that exploded on impact.
"Sanchez, move it! I want that gun up and running in one." "Yeah!" As I've said, none of my men give me lip. In a minute, Sanchez had the machine gun up in a perfect position. Platoons of Covenant troops tried to break through our lines in the battle's first minutes. Sadly enough, they met my men. They attacked relentlessly as would a pit bull. Their platoons were however coming in greater strength. They also adapted to us. While a platoon advanced, two rows of Jackals would lead the main force forward. The front row would have their energy shields the way they normally would, while the second row held their shields above their head at an angle, like a roof.
"Alright, we can't hit 'em with our rifles Sargn't Edwards, but, we can use grenades. Let's kick ass!" Corporal Jonathan Bynam raised his M90 Shotgun and pumped two shells into an Elite that got too close to the line for his liking. It staggered backwards while leaking out entrails. Bynam stood and bashed him in the face with the but of his rifle in the face. When it was down, two Grunts came up on his left and fired. "Cover me!" Bynam primed and threw a frag grenade while Private Peter Hahnson laid it into a group of troops advancing on Bynam. The grenade blew the Grunts a couple of feet up in the air and a Jackal that moved too close to the explosion. Bynam to his knife out, attached it to the shotgun's holder, and started gouging wholes into the Jackal's head. Then, he turned the rifle around and smashed it's skull in with one violent blow.
"Shit man. Did you see that mother's head come apart man...I've never seen brains come apart like that man. Shit," Bynam yelled victoriously back to his squadmates. But unfortunately, he had strayed too far from the lines during his little firefight. "That one was for Jack," whispered Bynam silently to himself. "John, watch out man, turn around!" Bynam turned around only to see an Elite with a plasma blade raised above its head. "Wort um narhf war hahaha!" Those were the last words that Bynam heard. The blade came down and then Bynam saw nothing. The Battle's first casualty.
"You son of a bitch!" Private Peter Hahnson opened fire, as did the rest of the six men next to him. "Corpsman," he yelled. " 'Doc' Schmidt came from the CP and asked, "Yeah." Peter pointed to the corpse. Doc would have barfed, but he'd seen so much of it in his past combat encounters. "Right, well let's get him." Doc ran out into the field and was closely followed by Peter and retrieved the body. "One sec," said Peter. He emptied the clip on the Elite that killed his friend, then retrieved its sword. "Always wanted one of these." They then walked back to the lines.
I witnessed all of this. I wouldn't let it go unnoticed. "Captain Garrison?" "Yeah?" "I need to see you at the sniper nest." "Right. Be there, in twenty." "Out" My radio man, Specialist Vernell Tate, asked me, "What ya gonna do, sir?" "Gonna give that man a medal." "OK."
It was only 2:59 AM. This entire attack began in the thick of night. We are GHOSTS. Galactic Human-Operative Special Tactics Squads. We are the 22nd SOD-G. We are the best of the best. Better than the Helljumpers. We always succeed.
"Fire!" Sergeant Sanchez had the machine gun giving hell to the offenders. The poor bastards didn't see it coming. They had all but forgotten night vision. We haven't. They can't see our position. All that do see it are cut down to size. No one encountering it survived. "I see a platoon coming up on our left," stated Gunnery Sergeant Gary Murphy. "Right then, let her rip." Baptism by fire was granted to the platoon. But..."Shit, we're out of ammo Sarge!" "Fuck!!" Gary looked at the ammo counter and it was near full, at 88 rounds. "Naw. It's fuckin' jammed!" "Quick, we can't let 'em get away!" Gary picked up his M6D and fired at three of the targets left. He dropped all of them. But then, another one appeared. "Damn, outta range!" Call in an artillery strike! Quick now!"
"We need artillery at these coordinates. 099 by 327 degrees. Fire for effect." Artillery, from a previously established firebase, let loose the fury of hell on the Covies. A series of explosions erupted, but then something that no one expected happened. Secondary explosions. "Damn, nice guess dude. I know, but man, I've told you guys before, I read minds," stated Sanchez, exuberantly. "Really," challenged Murphy.
But alas, the Grunt was spared; though they lost a major supply base. The Grunt ran double time to their base. The Elite field commander, 'Entmarth, listened carefully to the story and coordinates provided by the Grunt. Talking in their native tongue, the Elite said, "We must take that position out, as they will continue to slaughter my men. I want more men to support a mobilized assault on their right flank where that gun is. Take out as many of the vermin as you can, and their radios. If they have reinforcements moving in, then we must move quickly."
"Well, after reviewing your footage, I will have that soldier, and the two that recovered his body awarded with a medal. Now get back to your lines Sargn't." "Yes, sir!" "Keep up the good work Byron," I stated as we left the sniper nest. He was my squad's sniper and the best shot in the division. As I was walking back, a giant explosion erupted on my lines. "Fuck," I yelled. Over my radio, I asked Bravo team for reinforcements. "Roger, I got six guys and an ATV comin' in. I'll pull the chain on all available firepower I can get for your position. Out." Soon enough, an ATV and six guys were popping off rounds at the place where the explosion came from. The sniper nest let loose several clips each on the targets swarming in through the lines.
Leading the charge through the gap were three Wraiths. They didn't last too long. Rocket Jockey Alan Manning let loose a swarm of rockets at the lead tank. Hahnson took a frag grenade and tossed it under a tank. The tank flew backwards and then exploded in a furious flash of light. But then, that seemed not to be the main attack.
"This is Fire Team Bravo! We need immediate artillery support at our position now! Sierra Team, we need help. Shit! HELPPPP...chzzzztz" The transmission ended. "Pete, Tat, get in!" I assumed the gunner's position. Hahnson drove, Tate provided added close range weapons support. I turned the engine over, pushed the pedal down, and burned rubber. We sped over the relatively calm terrain and finally reached their position. The Corpsman was treating two critically wounded and the rest of the team was in bad condition. I didn't hesitate to fire. I let loose with grenades first. I wanted them to suffer for the pain they inflicted on my troops and my friends. The bastards exploded in hellish flames. "Damn, nice shootion' Tex," teased Tate. "Yeah." I ripped their lines open with the gun. It was fun to watch them die. Finally, artillery support came. We were saved.
Just as the enemy troops called off their attack, the reinforcements Bravo team let my team borrow returned to their friends' aide. The resuply teams came in and gave us ammo and fresh troops to put into harm's way. The other one dropped off a Scorpion tank. We loaded all of the dead and wounded onto one of the dropships and then let them leave.
As the battle stands, we have 2 men dead, Bynam, and Sanchez, and three wounded, Murphy, Donahew, and Hahnson, but Hahnson didn't want to leave, so we let him stay. My team is out one machine gun and four men. I figure that the Covenant will nibble at us all night long, and send in a large force at dawn. The time now is 2:43 AM.
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