High pitch whistles followed by a thunderous roar rang throughout the night. Dirt and small pebbles dripped from the stone ceiling. Flames flicker from dwindling candles. The wine cellar, now command room, has a large map on an old table and radios along with phones dotted the room. This map has a moderate sized town in the center named Luden. To the west of Luden lays a river and a bridge. Over the river were soft, rolling hills. Behind the town were farms and small tree rows. The homeland was being threaten by a combine arms attack, mainly from the Colonial Kingdom and The Union. Luden was created on the border of The Empire and the recently liberated Batalands centuries ago. The former glory of this trading town can be seen in the statues, or what's left of them anyways.

Men swarmed the table. Each wearing a grey uniform. Some with helmets, some with caps, few with officer caps. On each right sleeve was an insignia. It consist of a white "XV" pierced horizontally by a spear backed onto a black shield. The war has been going on for years now. They grew tired of it long ago. But they cannot abandon the war effort. Everyone here has a mutual agreement, they have to obtain victory together or die trying. The world won't have it any other way.

At the head of the table was Lieutenant Colonel Gustav Prittz He was on the younger side of middle age. He has brown short hair, his whitening short beard, and his trusty uniform that he kept spotless. Around the table were lieutenants and captains who tried to be just as neat. "We, the mechanized 15th, have been task with holding this town and bridge. His imperial majesty has order us to stay as long as we can. Our armies need time to reorganize after the fall of Mézières and the hole it torn open. Now we won't be the brunt of it, but it will be close to it. If we can't hold Luden, Major General Halm wants the bridge blown. Captain Maur and his units, I decided to have you to do the task. Only when you see both a white and red flare however. Go now and get the charges ready. We will only have a week at most before the bastards attack. What we are hearing is light rain. When it's a storm you'll know they're moving out. Be careful."

Maur saluted and another man from the sides got up from his chair. "Captain Bank, take your armored vehicles and place them behind these homes. I trust your digression in what's best. Just keep them hidden from enemy scouts." Lieutenant Colonel Prittz drew a line with his finger along the homes adjacent to the river. Again, a salute before the sound of a door opening and closing occurred.

The Colonel continued on, with mortars, with AT emplacement, barb wire, sandbags and tank traps, where to keep infantry and so. Finally, he got down his list to the hero of this story. "Second Lieutenant Barr, take your troops and take positions by the bridge. Have your MGs pointing at the bridge, with your rifles covering for them. Don't let them cross. Our AT guns will have a side angle to their tanks. But we need to draw them in. Good Luck." Barr saluted and left with his First Sargent, Dawley.

They walked through the halls of the old mayor's home. "Barr, we're going to take the hit first aren't we?" Dawley was a tall, skinny man. Could be called more of a ghoul than not. Always looked like he's starving. His pale skin doesn't help with his dead appearance. His bright amber eyes show how lively he is however. Dawley favors a cap rather than a helmet. Barr, was skinny too, but shorter than most men. He has short hair and a beard that refused to be a cleaned shaved. His light blue eyes betrayed how tired he is. Barr favors a helmet unlike Dawley, he painted a small yellow bar painted onto each side. "Yeah, it's going to be a pain. But at least the rain has stopped for now."

The two traveled outside of the command center. The town was in ruins, the home wasn't any better. But the mayor can't complain, like him, many fled inland. Few remain here. They were conscripted into food management as nurses, or as logistics. "Lets get the guys into position, I'll talk to logistics and see if I can pinch a few sandbags and ammo boxes. You go on."

"Yes sir!" Dawley ran forward to the south of the town. His rifle and gear clicking against each other as he ran off. Barr went eastward, to the edge of town. Men carrying sandbags, ammo boxes, crates of grenades, and with other material of war toddle along as Barr walked against the flow. The moon light up the night as a blackout order was in placed. Near the end of the town was a warehouse and a small bakery. Bakery was crossed out and Logistics was inscribed underneath. Barr entered the bakery and there was a civilian with an blue armband. This shows he's part of logistics. Candlelight lit the room. The windows had black paint painted over them, and the broken windows had curtains. He had dark circles around his eyes. His white hair gleam in the light. His wrinkles create shadows on his face. His withered limbs picked up a clipboard and a pen. "Can you write or do you need help?" Barr lightly smiled and took the pen. "Young man," his voice sounds as withered as he looked, "I've been told there's only so much I can give you. What do you need?" Barr looked at the man. "As many sandbags as you can spare and same with 7.92×57mm ammo cans and two .30-06 cans." The elder though for but a moment. "240 sandbag sacks and two and two with the cans." Barr nodded and signed wrote his acquisition. "Can I take a vehicle to deliver the items?" The man shook his head. "No, but my grandkids can help you. Johnny! Oscar!"

Stolen novel; please report.

Soon, two young men, about 15 years old each came out. Light blonde, freckled plagued, blue eyed.  "Go and help..." The old man looks at the clipboard squintingly, "Second Lieutenant Barr deliver what he needs." The two looked at me, "Yes grandpa," one of them said as he came forward. "This way please." The two lead Barr two the warehouse. "Ever since the army came, nothing good came." The taller of the two complained "Johnny, shut up! I'm sorry, please don't listen to him." He turned to Barr in fear and bowed slightly. "Why should I? They took Nana." Barr knew why most people were taken by the army. Barr also knew what happened to her, if she was lucky. Barr sighed "Just get a move on, I'm too tired for this." Oscar jolted and pulled Johnny into the building.

Unlike most buildings, this one had electricity running when Oscar flipped a switch. "What do you need?" Johnny heaved out. "240 sandbag sacks, two 7.92×57mm cans, and two .30-06 cans." Johnny pulled three crates out. Oscar ran back and forth with the ammo cans. Barr grabbed a crate and gave it to Oscar, followed by two cans onto the crates. Barr carried the other two cans while Johnny carry two crates. "Where to?" Johnny said. "To the bridge."

Barr flipped the lights off and lead the two boys though the rubles. The kids haven't seen the new destruction. It showed on their face. "Wasn't that where Aunty used to live?" One of them spoke behind Barr. But he continued on. "It was, but she died last month, who lives in the home now?" Oscar replied. "Them of course." Johnny basically spat out. "The military took over everything." Barr ignored them. He found them annoying. "Hurry up and get moving." The boys quickly realized that Barr was getting peeved at them. The rest of the journey went majorly quietly. A few groans, or light screams as the weight of their items gained phantomly heavier as they moved through the rubles of the streets.

"Second Lieutenant Barr!" A man came running up, it was Corporal Evans "We all been moved sir, just need your final touches sir." Barr nodded. "Take the two ammo cans, I'll come see." Evans took Oscar's ammo cans and lead Barr to a row of brick homes and former businesses. Barr sent the boys home after lining the gear against the wall and took a look around. The MGs took positions that prevent the enemy from having direct shots. They still can see the bridge however. Riflemen are task with shooting over the water. Men with SMGs are task from shooting those who manage to get across. They are also equipped with a few portable recoilless guns for enemy armor support. "Corporal. call the men."

Men from Barr's unit came in behind an abandoned jeweler business. Three rows of eight stood before Barr, with Dawley to his left. "I have three crates filled with empty sandbags. They need to be filled and place in areas where we will be moving and shooting from. Especially for the MGs. Break the windows out and place sandbags there on the inside. Keep the enemy guessing until the last moment. I have two ammo cans for the MGs, make them count. I know they can be thirsty, but we don't have enough to hydrate them. For the rest of you, I have two 7.92×57mm cans. Sorry for those with SMGs, you're going to be short for a while. You're dismiss"

The unit saluted before dispersing. Most went for the sandbags, some went for the ammo cans. "Dawley, take two men and find a high spot. Keep watch over the river. and tell me if anything moves" Barr said. "Yes sir." Dawley went and Barr left deeper into the town. He past two rows of home until he came across a home that he was told was the new barracks. He went inside of the home two rows before the river bank and into the basement. Since he recently called them, no one was down into the makeshift barracks. Lines of beds were stuffed down here. In a separate room was a single bed, a coat rack, and a desk already made for him. Barr took of his helmet and lightly placed it onto the desk.

He lit a candle and took out a small journal and pen. Technically he wasn't supposed to write it, but it helps keep his mind at ease. Something he learned long ago. It was a memoir of sorts. He longingly flipped through the pages until he reach his last entry and filled in the day. It was a few pages off from the back cover. He stared at the few blank pages before turning back to his first entry, "September 1st, 1901, it was a clear blue sky and the grass was emerald green..."