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Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich
Chapter 24: Can't stop, won't stop

Chapter 24: Can't stop, won't stop

Colonel Rommel mounts a 251 half-track before being handed an Mp-35 from one of the Grenadiers. He puts on his steel helmet before turning around, his hand outstretches to hoist another Grenadier up on the vehicle. As they're making final preparation to deploy, a soldier runs up to Rommel's half-track, shouting. "Colonel Rommel, sir, the Acting Commander gave the mandate to not show any mercy to the enemy! She wants us to crush them completely!"

Rommel nods. "Then it shall be done! All troops, ready your weapons! We will ride out with the holy might of steel and fire carving the path for us! Marks my word, we can't stop nor will we stop until all the enemy falls beneath our treads!" His short speech garners a spirited roar from the entire regiment behind him. Waving toward the soldiers standing guard ahead of the convoy, Rommel says loudly. "Open the gate!"

Acknowledging his command, they push the steel gate of the staging area open. With the way clear, the lead vehicle, which is a Panzer II, leads the first column out. Due to the circumstance, Rommel only has access to 52 armored vehicles. Barely enough to outfit his mechanized 300-man strong regiment. He opts to split the regiment into two columns, each heading out at the same time but with different routes, before reconvening at the enemy HQ. He will command the first column while Major Muller leads the other one. The mechanized convoy sets out under salutations from the nearby rear-echelon soldiers. They then split into two once they reach a three-way fork, a mere one kilometer away from the frontline. Rommel choose to head for the West, the flank that's now being hit the hardest. This leaves Muller in charge of breaking out from the South.

The nearer they're getting to the defense line, the more stifling the air gets. Rommel knows this atmosphere well, it's one made of blood, flame, and gunpowder. It gets worse when a particular battlefield is deadlier than others. Rommel is now heading straight into one. Standing near the Grenadier manning the MG-34 on the front, Rommel peers ahead to see a major gunfight. He pats the Grenadier on his shoulder before chambering a round in his Mp-35. "All at the ready! What will you say when we're about to hit a deer?"

His soldiers echo. "Speed up!"

Smiling at their reply, Rommel aims his SMG. "Damn straight! Now let her rip!" By his command, the leading vehicles open fire on the attacking Ustians.

20mm shells and 8mm Mauser bullets rip through the front ranks of the enemy conscripts. Earning enough time for the defending Grenadiers to clear the makeshift barricade they've been employing. And as the last vehicles of the column clear the barricade, they too unleash hell on the enemy. Quite literally, as three of the trailing half-tracks are equipped with two side-mounted flamethrowers each. While the lead vehicles suppress the enemy ahead of them to clear the route, the flammpanzerwagens rain down fiery napalm on the unprotected enemy. As they quickly find themselves turned into human torches, they run around trying to put out the flame in vain. Yet, Rommel and his column keep the paddle to the metal, causing more death and destruction along the way. And while the Ustians are running around like headless chickens, the Belkan defenders cry a resounding cheer. Rommel's timely help successfully reignited their fighting spirit.

Driving down the messy streets of Arash, Rommel's convoy is being shot at from all sides. They're now in the thick of it but they won't be deterred easily. Training his gun over a veranda, Rommel unleashes a burst of 9mm at a blue coat. The passing silhouette collapses onto the ground, out of sight of the Colonel as his vehicle has moved on. Around him, his Grenadiers and Storm Troopers pull their triggers non-stop in a 360 degrees radius. It's a target-rich environment so you're bound to hit something even if you shut your eyes and fire.

"Watch out for the windows!" The Grenadier manning the MG-34 warned before he engage a target. The green tracers left behind by the 8mm bullets mark the location of the enemy for the rest of the convoy.

Making a swift judgment, not even knowing what's behind the windows, Rommel orders. "Light them up!"

Heading his command, many muzzles point toward the taller buildings around them before unleashing a hail of bullets. This deters the enemy from trying to take a shot at them from high above. Lessening the damage they receive by quite a bit. For the few kilometers ride, Rommel has lost count of how many times he has pulled the trigger. He also had to exchange his helmet for a new one, as the old helmet took a nasty hit for him. Despite the shock he received, he stands firm next to the machine gunner. It's only there he can correctly assess the situation and make the necessary changes if need be. And though he luckily survived, a Grenadier behind him sadly didn't make it. When the convoy rounded a corner, an enemy technical pulled up from the side and fired at them. Rommel was pushed onto the floor by the Grenadier, leaving him to be the one to get hit. The man died while Rommel tried to stem his blood loss. Such a thing leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth. Though he made damn sure that armed truck got to bathe in napalm as a parting gift for the brave soldier.

Returning to the present, Rommel is now out of ammo for his Mp-35. Dismissing the magazine offered to him by a Storm Trooper, he pulled out his C96. In his mind, he praises the pistol for its robust and reliable nature, alongside the firepower it brings to the table. Taking aim at approaching conscript on a balcony, Rommel pulls the trigger on semi-auto. A 9x25mm bullet flies out the barrel before puncturing the wooden panel of the balcony. Without fragmenting, the bullet hit true in between the conscript's ribcage. Thus causing his heart to explode before his body collapses onto the ground. Rommel doesn't even have to take a look to confirm the kill, fully trusting the pistol to be capable of its job. And as he just finished up his first 10-round magazine, a situation occurs at the front of the column.

"Fuck! That's a tank!" The tank commander of the leading Panzer II cursed before warning the vehicles behind him. "All units, enemy tank ahead of the formatio-... Shit! Driver, hard left!"

The driver followed his command hastily, angling the tank to the side of the road. Barely in time before the 37mm shell makes a glancing hit on the left side of their turret, bouncing off before hitting a wall and exploding. Ears rigging from the impact, the tank commander kicks the driver on his right shoulder, signaling him to take them up to speed. "Fuck! Full throttle towards them! I want to hit them with my sword!"

"Load HVAP! Fire at will!" The gunner operates the turret mechanism, training his guns on the Ustian tank ahead of them. Taking a closer look at the enemy, the gunner can't help but curse.

"Bastard is using one of ours Panzer 38! The up-armor variant! Blasted sons of a bitch probably salvaged them from God knows where!"

The commander can't care about it, whatever the case, it belongs to the enemy now. "I don't give a damn! Just blast it to hell!"

The gunner obliges before firing his main gun. Not just him but Rommel also orders the rest of the column to suppress the enemy tank. Though its front armor plating can shrug off the 20mm shells, its optics can't take much punishment. Some bullets manage to crack the optic, buying enough time for the Panzer II to approach them.

Noticing that the Panzer 38 is slowly pointing its cannon at them, the tank commander says. "Driver, on my command, break hard right before dashing straight to the enemy side. Gunner, make sure we have an HVAP mag loaded."

"Sure thing, boss."

As they break past the hundred meters mark, the 37mm cannon finally manage to get its bearing on the daring Panzer II. Knowing it's time, the tank commander screams. "NOW!"

The driver pushes the tank hard to the right as they all lean to one side because of inertia. Unable to track their sudden movement, the enemy gunner prematurely discharges his main gun. The 37mm impacts the ground harmlessly behind the Panzer II. With the coast clear, the driver turns his tank hard left, causing it to drift the last dozen meters to the left side of the enemy tank. The Panzer II's treads leave behind sparks and scorch marks on the ground when it comes to a halt, less than five meters away from the enemy. At such a close distance, even standard armor-piercing can penetrate the side of the 38t, not to mention HVAP.

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The Gunner smirks before firing the autocannon. "Yippee Ki-yay, motherfuckers." A sonorous sound is heard as he discharges the entire 20mm magazine at the enemy. The gunner sweeps the entirety of the Panzer 38 with the gun, ensuring that it's now truly dead.

With no time to celebrate their victory, the tank commander urges them to get back into formation. This fight is not yet over for them.

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It's unknown how much time has passed, yet, Alban is now wide awake when he feels someone dragging his body across the floor. Turning around he notices that his heavily injured adjutant is pulling him out of a pile of rubles. Grunting, he asks. "What happened, son?"

Laying his General at a somewhat clean area, the adjutant slumps down with his arms limping. "We... Have no idea, sir. A couple of hours ago, a major explosion rocked the place, killing and injuring many of the command staff. Not just here but our entire frontline exploded and it's causing us a lot of confusion currently. We have no idea what happened, but right now, we need you to be back in command, sir." Groaning, he continues. "The conscripts don't know what to do so we're halted at the enemy doorsteps. And they are using the chance to counterattack us at the moment, General."

Alban wants to curse but finds himself lacking the strength to do so. He can only let out a tired sigh when the battle suddenly takes a turn for the worst. They've utterly lost all initiative in mere seconds, and now it's doubtful he can reorganize the army. He scans the headquarters, now in a shamble, with corpses of his aides dotting the places. A few soldiers are trying to locate survivors like him but chances are slim. He was just lucky that whatever bomb that exploded, spared him.

Yet, for what? Alban can't help but laugh derisively at his predicament. He knows for sure he has lost now, outplayed by a 15-years old kid. His reverie is interrupted when a soldier barges in to report. "Ge-General, sir! Please give us orders, the enemy armored forces are getting increasingly closer to our HQ!"

It takes him a few seconds to register the words. But Alban finally reacts when he stands up, only to stumble. Thankfully, the soldier supports him in time. "My thanks, son. What's your name?"

"I'm called Bastien, sir."

"Well Bastien, you will be my runner for today." Taking a deep breath, he says. "I want you to find a working radio and broadcast the order for the entire army to regroup back at HQ. We must stop the enemy tanks dead in their track. Can you do it for me?"

"Yes, General! Please, sit here first." The boy pulls out a chair for the tired General to sit down. He then runs out to find the nearest radio station.

Alban heaves a painful breath before turning back to look at the aide. Sadly, he breathed his last moments ago, too injured to wait for medics. Mourning his loss for but seconds Alban rethinks his choice just now. He chooses to make a last stand, knowing fully that it's too late to retreat. Not when enemy reinforcement is just over the horizon.

Yes, Alban and the top cadre know that a Belkan army is swiftly heading for Arash. They're mere hours away from completely surrounding his army. This gamble was their last attempt to secure a victory but sadly, they've failed miserably. Now unable to run nor attack, Alban can only hunker down and try to cause as much damage as possible to the 404th division. Until the very last moment, he will fight.

But as if laughing at his resolve, Bastien runs back into the room, sweating profusely. "Not good General! A Belkan army has us surrounded from the rear! What should we do!?"

"What!?" Shotting up instantly, Alban can't believe his ears. "Impossible, they're supposed to be hours away!"

"Two hours have already passed when you're still being buried, General. We've been trying to save you at fast as we can but... " Bastien clarified.

"I see... It all makes sense now." What Alban knows was old news. He completely missed the fact that he was unconscious for hours. Granted, the aide died before he could brief Alban while Bastien is but a low-ranking soldier, he wouldn't be able to know anything. But still, Alban can't even make a proper defense plan right now. It seems like it will be boiling down to just an infantryman and his rifle. No more tactic, no more planning.

Having made up his mind, Alban says to Bastien. "Take me to the armory, son. After that, gather whoever's still capable of fighting with me. We will head for the frontline."

Calming down thanks to Alban's stern voice. Bastien feels a rush of courage welling up from deep inside him. Saluting, he says. "Please, follow me, sir." But Alban stops him.

"And son."

"Yes, sir?"

"I am sorry."

Taking a long look at the grizzled General. Bastien is inspired by the fighting spirit hidden behind those eyes. "It's fine, General. For our families, this was worth it."

Without waiting for a reply, Bastien heads out. Alban follows suit, leaving behind the battered soldiers that are still taking care of the injured officers.

Once they're gathered whatever men and armaments they have left, a total of 100 men, various machine guns, and three AT guns. Alban orders them to follow him and make haste to intercept Rommel's motorcade.

Jogging all the way to a checkpoint that's being attacked. Alban has the conscripts spread out and lay down suppressive fire on the enemy vehicle. They may not be able to do much but the 25mm AT cannons sure can, once they've set it up, of course.

"Fire everything!" Alban shouts. "I don't care if you fire with your heads down! As long as you keep firing, then all is good!"

Tucking himself behind a destroyed car, Alban chambers around for his Berthier carbine. While the rifle is of the same caliber as the 8mm Mauser, it's woefully lacking in power compared to its Belkan counterpart. The only upside the Berthier has is its portability and ease of handling. But for Alban, it's more than enough to take the hat off a Grenadier, 100 meters away. Resting his rifle on the hood of the car, Alban lines up the sight on the Belkan machine gunner. Squeezing the trigger, he shoots the man in the head, letting his body fall down inside the half-track.

The Ustian General is forced to relocate when a Panzer II rounds a corner, its guns aiming straight at him. Thankfully, Alban slides inside a shop, hiding behind a counter just in time.

*BOOM* *BOOM* BOOM*

The car he used as a cover before is now ripped to scrap metals. Cursing under his breath, Alban questions. "Are the AT ready yet? We're being torn up here!"

In response, the 25mm cannon fires its first shot of the day, hitting the Panzer II squarely on its side. The shell causes enough spalling in the tank to kill off its three crew members. The AT crew and the surrounding Ustian conscripts cheer on as a second AT gun fires, this time destroying a 251 half-track. Unlike the Panzer II, the occupants in the rear of the 251 managed to bail out this time.

Alban watches on as his conscripts use the chance to push back Rommel's force from the checkpoint. Yet, were things so easy?

The Ustian General has a bad premonition when he sees the Belkans make a full retreat. But why? The Belkan army already has them surrounded and is attacking their rear right this moment. If Rommel persists then he can just wipe out Alban's motley group with enough troops.

What Alban doesn't know is that Rommel's regiment also takes heavy casualties during the two hours he's been knocked out. Although Rommel has successfully diverted the pressure away from the defense line, he and Muller then take the full brunt of it. The conscripts have moved back to help protect Alban's headquarters, even without his order. They literally throw bodies at Rommel's and Muller's treads just to stall their advance. Thus causing Rommel and Muller a lot of trouble just to get near the Ustian HQ. You can say that Alban was worth a lot more in their heart than some vain fame and glory. A touching sentiment, don't you think so?

Frowning, Alban is about to put a stop to his troops' advancement when smoke grenades land a few steps away from him. From those, red smoke starts spilling out. It's at this moment that Alban knows, it's a trap! Laughing out loud with his face gazing upward to the sky. Alban has truly given up, the last sight that he sees, before a 283mm high-explosive shell obliterates him, is a smoky gray sky.

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Bryn lets out a sigh. General Belladonna has arrived in time with the full force of her tanks, storming into the city. Admiral Donitz also leads his vessels straight to Arash coastal water. The Scharnhorst and Gneisenau are now fulfilling the fire support requests in lieu of the Vauquelin. Army soldiers too are being unloaded from their transport onto the dock. They will head straight to the frontline and mop up every single Ustians.

In the sky, Ju-52s with 20mm autocannons mounted on their left side, are circling the city. Like vultures, they pick up on leftover enemies that are trying to retreat. Leave no quarter to the enemy, Bryn says.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Bryn turns around to face Alexa.

"You've done well, Brynhyldr. Go, I will handle the clean-up." Alexa said with a tilt of her head.

Nodding to the Brigadier, Bryn moves to a radio station, one that's on the line with Air Force General Jurgen. She picks up the headwear from an operator, saying. "General Jurgen, the reinforcement will be dealing with the last of them. You can send down the medevac."

From the other end, Jurgen says with a sigh. "It's already coming down, Commander. If only we'd gotten there sooner."

Bryn winces, and she says wistfully. "If only indeed..." Only she knows that all of this was staged. Even the pain it has and will cause is planned by none other than Yuki herself.

Bryn just wishes that Yuki can forgive her for letting her went through such trauma. All because she is too weak to help Yuki more.