“All units of the MN Expeditionary Forces, and allied forces under the Vaeyox Continental Command—the order to you is clear! Push them all back. At all costs. For months, we have battled them in extreme fighting conditions, but on all fronts, our valiant brothers and sisters have won both great victories amidst the staggering defeats. Now is the time to turn the tide of battle. Now is the time for the allied nations to strike back against this coalition of miscreants. Make no mistake. The enemy is ruthless. Battle-hardened. Well-supplied and well-equipped. Motivated by fanatic hatred against anything that stands against their deranged revolution. They will fight hard. But, the Mandate of Nations must fight for the future of this world. The world is watching you. You are the one standing between them and demise. And I believe that you will not fail them.”
- General Elias Holl
+++
Southeastern Gallia
June 9, 2025
III OEF Corps
54th Armored Brigade “Prinzessin Alice”
Colonel Andrew Prul of the newly raised “Princess Alice Brigade” placed his cap on as he exited the meeting hall. They were driving out soon enough, mainly, because the offensive had begun this morning. He fixed himself a cigar as he looked at the flagpoles outside, with four flags flying on it. The flag of Orland, Gallia, Lorathia, and the Mandate of Nations.
The allied forces…all in all, were really just those three nations when it came to Gallia. Just them, trying to hold this place together. And now, he was throwing his men again into battle. He remembered the days in Heiflitz when he only commanded a mere battalion. Now, he was in charge of a brigade raised under the patronage of the Princess herself.
Briefly, he remembered that kid’s embarrassing speech to them when the Royal Government formed them. That…was certainly quite the beginning for their unit. The 54th after all was quite a different brigade than the rest. Its three armored battalions, the 17th, 19th, and 85th were all ‘elite’ in a sense, drawn out from the battered brigade-sized units of the famous depleted armored divisions that fought in the early days of the Halia campaign.
In essence, he led a unit of survivors. Men who had seen their entire divisions slashed into a third of their strength during the worst fighting on the opening days of the civil war. And now, they were being tasked to be one of the spearhead units leading the charge against the Larissans. At the very least, they now received all of the new gear.
His entire brigade used Löwe EP4As. Straight out of the production line. He briefly admired his command tank outside of the building. It was also finally upgraded, keeping its armaments even with the advanced communications suite for the commander installed in it. He’d be riding on it soon enough with the rest of the brigade.
“Well, that was tedious,” a gruff remark came behind him. Andrew turned around with a smirk, as the prestigious General Elias Holl—overall commander of Army Group Gallia, and the same man who once saved Halia from encirclement during the Grand Duchy Campaign. Like Andrew, he was promoted. “Admiring the view?”
“Well, it is a new shiny tank after all,” Andrew replied, as Elias grinned.
“Glory to Economic Minister Wittfield, eh?”
“Heh, I guess.”
The two of them looked at the skies, as multiple AH-22 Attack Helicopters passed by above them. There were dozens of them, belonging to the III OEF Corps’ 5th Aviation Brigade. Just then, there were dozens of low-flying UH-90 Eagles that carried their air assault units. They sped up, going straight to their designated targets earlier during the operational meeting.
Unlike the other OEF Corps, the III OEF Corps had an airmobile focus. It was formed by the 5th Aviation Brigade, the 7th Aviation Brigade, and the 22nd Air Assault Brigade. That was nearly twelve thousand men that would be deployed by helicopters during the offensive, with the ground elements, his 54th Armored Brigade, the 140th Mechanized Brigade, and the 18th Mechanized Brigade being the ones tasked to speed through a highway connecting two river cities, Arguisse and Conre.
“You know,” Andrew shook his head. “I’m not sure if our Aviation Brigades can do what you’re asking. I mean, securing two bridges ahead of us? Isn’t that…quite too much?”
“And if we don’t secure Highway 55, we’d be screwed. They’d be able to set up a defense line at the Conre River, and the entire offensive will go off balance. The Queen set her goals. The III OEF Corps has to punch through quickly. Only then can our armored forces run free on northern Gallia to encircle them.”
“Hmm…I don’t know,” Andrew said. “This is such a risky operation. Quite frankly, General Albrecht must be nuts.”
“Well, he is nuts,” Elias nodded in agreement. “But he has a point. The strategic picture isn’t on our side. Even if we’re winning the air war, they’re sending more tanks than we can bomb. The only way to ensure victory then is to wipe their ground forces in one decisive punch.”
“And if we screw this up, Gallia is lost.”
“That’s the point. So admire the view well, Colonel. It may be your last.”
Andrew just snorted.
“Thank you very much, but I think I’ve ‘admired’ the Gallian battlefields long enough. It’s been years, yet we’re still back here all the same. Fighting the same enemy. Just…under a different Queen.”
“Well, they’re not the same. Unlike the last ones, these ones are driven by fanatic ideological beliefs. They really fight hard.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Yeah. I can’t believe they refused to just dig in and grind us down. They really wanna throw their forces at us for a gamble.”
“That’s why we’re doing the same,” Elias looked at the blue skies. “If she exists, it’s really up to her now which side’s gamble will pay off.”
“I doubt she has much preference over rebellious young men. I mean, they declared her a threat to humanity.”
“Exactly why they’re crazy,” Elias laughed. “They’re convinced that if the divine exists, then it must be their enemy. That, Colonel, is what we’re up against. Can you believe that? I understand if you don’t believe in the divine. I don’t. I think most men refuse to believe it. But to believe it and spitefully call it your enemy?”
He shook his head.
“That’s the type of madman who will drive his tank over children. Or rain chemical weapons first.”
“I’ll be rejoining my staff,” Andrew said.
“Good luck. I imagine that your namesake will be a lucky charm.”
“Heh, really now?”
The General placed his cap back on.
“Well, you’re the only Army unit bearing a name granted by the Royal Household. Considering how those two sisters act, I’d like to believe that it’d be a sign of good omen.”
+++
His tank stopped in front of an abandoned Gallian chateau. Already, dozens upon dozens of men from his command staff dismounted their vehicles to enter the place. Andrew and his subordinates filed inside the chateau’s premises, with Andrew pointing at places where they would set up.
“Then, can you guys remove that flag?” Andrew asked, pointing at the Confederate flag planted on one of the buildings. “It irks me.”
The Sergeant Major beside him just nodded with a chuckle.
“Yes, sir,” the man said before he turned to one of the officers with them. “Tell your men to get that Larissan flag off here. The boss wants them off from his sight.”
“Aye, sarge.”
Beside him, his executive officer opened up his tablet and began reporting something.
“Alright, Colonel, first reports are in,” the man said, as they went for the entrance. Inside, as usual for a noblewoman's property, were the fanciful rooms, pristine white halls, and opulent furnishings being systematically dismantled by his men to set up their tables.
Intelligence officers, communications officers, techs, and other staff members pulled out table after table and organized them, as laptops and computers were placed on top of them.
“The 17th is requesting for our engineers to set up a secondary access bridge on the left flank of Arguisse. Very much heavy opposition down south.”
“So are the reports confirmed?”
“Aye. We’re facing three Larissan Motor Rifle Divisions. We’ve met elements of the 84th, 55th, and 27th Motor Rifle Divisions on Highway 55.”
“How’s our battalions doing then?”
“The 17th Armored Battalion is advancing on the left flank of Highway 55. They’ve taken a good firing position in the hills overlooking the river. We’ve got effective fire control over Highway 67 that runs from the southeast of Arguisse City.”
Soon, the group reached the fifth floor of the chateau. The winding rooms and hallways confused them, but it didn’t bother Andrew. He made his way straight into one of the open rooms that contained a balcony. Looking to his right, he sighed, seeing a picture of a Gallian aristocratic family.
It contained a mother standing behind a chair, her daughter, and another young girl. All three of them were smiling. Then, when he turned to his left, toward the balcony that overlooked the flat fields of the area south of Arguisse, and part of Highway 55, it was a different story. Distant flashes of light went off left and right. The few forested areas seemed alight with smoke and fire. And the distant skyline of the city itself seemed to be on fire.
He took his binoculars to look at the battle in front of them. Ahead on the road, most likely eight kilometers away, he could see the flashes of his tanks and men battling against the elements of the Larissan Motor Rifle divisions.
“That’s Major Bayern’s 85th Armored. He sent all of his companies straight to the road. Thunder run. As you ordered.”
“Good,” Andrew said, lowering his binoculars. More AH-22s flew above them, rushing straight into the frontlines. “Tell them that once they secure and enter the bridge, that they will not stop. I’ll authorize the river crossing on their flank. Then the 17th Armored will swoop in to attack and eliminate all opposition in Arguisse city.”
“Oh, yeah, by the way, the 22nd Air Assault Brigade reported that they’ve now captured three districts of the city. They’re trying to secure the northern end of Highway 55 in the city, but they’re having trouble. Seems like the enemy has tanks.”
“And the bridge?”
“Still in our hands. The enemy is…not counterattacking.”
Suddenly, another man came from behind them, calling them, and saluting, before handing his executive Andrew a paper. He read it. It seemed to be from his communications team.
“Our drones have noted that the enemy is forming a group of three dozen tanks to attack our air assault units holding the river. The 22nd is requesting that we relieve them faster.”
“Alright, wait for me down there,” Andrew said, before turning back to his executive officer.
“How many vehicles and men have we lost?”
“For the last three hours, we’ve lost five Löwes from the 17th. Three Löwes from the 85th. Alongside that, we’ve lost two M8s from the 19th. Our 3rd Cavalry Troop also lost two of our new Stryders, they were ambushed on one of the towns on the right flank of Highway 55, and…well, enemy AT took them down while they bum-rushed the place.”
“And the supply situation?”
“All of our units have not reported any supply degradation. Our sustainment units are also on the move, and we’re meeting each of their needs at the moment. We do need a few more recovery vehicles from the corps command though.”
“How much?”
“Around six. We expect…around ten to twenty tank losses once we punch through Arguisse. The faster we recover them from the road, the better.”
“Alright,” Andrew then gave his binoculars another look, watching as the distant carnage continued. “What’s the news from Conre?”
“They’re…still trying to capture the bridges.”
“Well, they better do it fast,” Andrew shook his head. “These damned Larissans already know what’s going on. I bet they’ll blow it up fast.”
“We’ve advanced nearly fifteen kilometers in three hours. I think it’s clear to the enemy that this is a big event.”
“Well, we better pump that number to the planned forty-eight before they reinforce their lines. The Queen expects a big win. We better give it to her.”