The treeline erupted into chaos the moment Takashi's squad crossed the threshold. Profanities and shouting mixed with the distinctive cracks of gunfire as muzzle flashes flickered between branches. DuPont watched intently as more of his men disappeared into the dense foliage, knowing full well that first contact had been made.
"2-2, Crash!" DuPont barked into his radio without hesitation.
"Crashing!" Evans’ voice was barely audible over the cacophony of battle as he took off into a sprint.
DuPont watched as Evans's squad bounded forward, maintaining the agreed-upon 30-meter distance from where Takashi's men entered. The sounds of combat intensified as Evans and his boys reached the treeline, blasting at anything and everything as they joined the fray.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, DuPont keyed his radio again. "2-3, Crash!"
"Moving!" Sergeant Miller acknowledged.
DuPont surged forward with 2-3 and rushed towards the treeline as the rest of the company behind supported their approach. As they covered the ground between them and the forest's edge, the familiar click of the safety of DuPont’s rifle rang out just when he entered the dense foliage.
The moment DuPont breached the treeline, his expectations were completely shattered. He'd been expecting the enemy to huddle under whatever they could after the literal hurricane of lead that was dumped into the forest. Maybe a few would try to work up the courage to cast whatever magical bullshit they had and be subsequently cut down by his men, but that was far from the truth.
Instead, he found his men either firing down into what looked like freshly dug trenches or straight up jumping into them. The sight caught him so off guard that he nearly stumbled into the damn thing, but that brief moment of confusion probably saved his life.
As DuPont came to a momentary stop in his hesitation, he finally looked down to find himself staring directly at a wide-eyed enemy combatant. The man was curled up at the bottom of the trench, hands clasped tightly over his ears, staring up at DuPont as if he were some kind of demon.
Their eyes were locked on to each other for what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a fraction of a second. Then the man's hands shot out, reaching for what looked like a spear propped against the trench wall. But this wasn't any normal spear — the thing seemed to twist and bend in a way that made DuPont's hair stand on end.
Muscle memory kicked in before his mind could even process what he was seeing. His rifle snapped up to his shoulder in a rush and sloppy way before his finger squeezed the trigger over and over again. The M4 bucked against him as he dumped half his magazine in panic, causing his targets to yelp and flail wildly after grabbing his weapon.
From chest to face, the enemy soldier was riddled with bullets until he lay motionless at the floor of the trench while DuPont took a quick look around and jumped inside. “Bravo 6, this is 2!” He yelled, keying his push to talk as he kept his rifle trained further down the half-constructed trench line. “They’re making fucking trenches!”
"Bravo6, this is 2!" DuPont keyed his radio frantically as his eyes darted between the multiple paths branching from the main trench. "Enemy fortification at ISR-4! They built a goddamn trench network!"
The strange spear still gave DuPont the creeps as he grabbed it, the metal feeling unnaturally warm against his gloved hand. Without hesitation, he lobbed it over the lip of the trench toward friendly lines, not wanting whatever the hell was wrong with that thing was nowhere near him or his men.
"Getting real tired of this fantasy bullshit," he muttered, giving the dead soldier one last suspicious glance before pressing forward.
Takashi's voice echoed from somewhere ahead, barely audible over sporadic gunfire. "There’s still fucks in this bunker! Get some frags in there, NOW!"
The trench zigzagged aggressively, creating perfect spots for ambushes around every corner. DuPont's throat tightened as he moved cautiously, keeping his weapon trained on each bend before advancing. Most of the initial defenders were dead - their bodies sprawled at awkward angles along the earthen walls - but he could hear scattered fighting further down the line.
"2-4, this is 2 actual," he called over the platoon net while pressing himself against a dirt wall. "Crash into the trench system, link up with my position! How copy?"
"2 actual, solid copy!" came the response. "Crashing!"
Another burst of gunfire erupted ahead, followed by a few muffled blasts, "Go! Get in there!" Takashi’s voice carried throughout the battlefield. “Clear that bitch out!”
DuPont quickened his pace but maintained his discipline, checking each corner and junction before moving. The trench system was like a maze, and he'd be damned if he let his guard down just because the bulk of the enemy appeared to be neutralized.
As DuPont threw his weapon to his other shoulders to check the next bend, movement caught his eye. He barely had time to register the figure gripping a shovel in one hand and an axe in the other when his training took over. The enemy soldier only managed a brief look of confusion at the small piece of uniform that had peeked around the corner before DuPont's M4 barked three times.
The rounds tore through the man's pelvis, sending him crashing to the ground with an agonized scream. His weapons clattered against the trench walls as he writhed in the dirt, frantically grasping at his shattered lower body. DuPont stepped fully around the corner and put another five rounds into him, silencing the screams.
His rifle remained trained on the now-still body, when a sudden hand on DuPont’s shoulder nearly made him jump out of his skin. "I got you, sir!" Private Wilson's voice came from behind as he pushed past DuPont, orienting his weapon down the opposite side of the trench junction that DuPont hadn't cleared.
"Watch that side," DuPont ordered, jerking his head toward the dead soldier as he started moving again. "I just dropped one there."
Wilson immediately shifted what sector he was watch as more of 2-3 began filtering into the trench behind them. “Got it, sir!” He said as DuPont took off towards the sound of Takashi's squad engaging the enemy
Another turn in the trench brought DuPont to Takashi's position just as two more grenades detonated with sharp cracks. Through the settling dust, he could see the squad stacked up outside what looked like a hastily constructed bunker entrance. Fresh-cut logs formed a crude overhead cover, and sandbags were still stacked nearby, waiting to reinforce walls that would never be finished.
Intense bursts of gunfire echoed out from the bunker as the soldiers of 2-1 fought to clear the bunker. However, DuPont watched as a sickly green flash suddenly lit up the darkened entrance, along with a flurry of profanities as more gunfire erupted.
The next second, soldiers came pouring out of the bunker entrance. Some were backpedaling with raised weapons and firing, while others scrambled to get clear. Private Johnson was one of those who stumbled out with crystalline spikes protruding all over his plate carrier, with a few embedded deeply into his left arm. The strange projectiles had an ethereal property to them as they slowly dissipated into mist.
"MEDIC!" Johnson called out, but his tone was more pissed off than panicked as blood started to soak his entire sleeve. "This is bullshit! Someone get these fucking things out of me!"
"Jesus Christ," Johnson continued pacing and ranting. "I swear to god, if this shit gives me tetanus or turns me into a fucking frog..."
But his rant was soon cut short by Takashi grabbing Johnson and yanking him out of the way. "Get the fuck out of the way!" he barked, before gesturing to the men positioned outside the entrance. "Suppress this asshole and get more frags in there!"
The bunker entrance erupted in a storm as soldiers unloaded into the dark interior. Others reached for grenades, pulling pins and lobbing them through the entryway.
DuPont dropped to a knee next to Takashi as multiple explosions rocked the structure an keyed his radio. "6, this is 2. We've encountered fortified positions in the trench network. One wounded from some kind of magical attack. Bunker appears to be a hasty construction, over."
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"2, this is 6," Major Ward's voice crackled back. "Copy all. Be advised, we're seeing similar positions across the entire AO.”
Sporadic cracks of rifles echoed off the earthen walls as more soldiers pushed into the bunker. “Your job is to clear these trenches while 1st and 3rd keep pushing uphill.” Ward continued over the radio as muzzle flashes lit up the darkened interior. “1st Infantry already drew out most of their forces, and getting artillery and mortars on this hill is our number one priority.”
"FRAG OUT!" A muffled explosion and more gunfire followed the shout from inside the bunker.
Looking over his shoulder and seeing another squad leader standing above the trenches barking orders, DuPont realized that this operation was going to be very messy. "Solid copy, 6," he responded over another burst of automatic fire that erupted from the bunker entrance. "Be advised, we're clearing one fortified position now, but these bunkers are more extensive than they. It looks like they've been trying to dig in deep, over."
"Roger that," Ward acknowledged. "I’m pushing 4 to reinforce you now. Bravo 6, out."
DuPont's hand fell away from his push-to-talk as the reality of their situation started to sink in. They hadn’t been training for trench warfare — hell, it hadn’t even been a thought. The military already had their hands completely full with just getting the literal flood of volunteers up to speed and into units.
After struggling with a deep recruitment crisis, basic training and infantry school became a revolving door, pumping out new soldiers faster than ever before. Units that hadn't existed since Vietnam were getting pulled out of mothballs just to handle the influx. The 1st Cavalry had gone from understrength to bursting at the seams in a matter of months. Companies that used to run three platoons were now running five or even six, and battalions were standing up new companies left and right.
Sweeping his gaze over his men, DuPont saw that his veterans wer vastly out numbered by fresh faces straight out of basic. Half of these kids hadn’t even heard of trench warfare outside of history class, let alone trained for it. The Army had been so focused on getting boots on the ground that a lot of specialized training had fallen by the wayside. Now they were learning the hard way, through a trial by fire.
If there was one saving grace in this clusterfuck, it was that they'd caught these bastards with their pants down. Most of the resistance they'd encountered weren't soldiers — they were closer to a construction crew caught in the middle of their work. The trench network was nowhere near complete, and whoever was supposed to actually defend it hadn't shown up yet.
"Lieutenant!"
DuPont's head snapped around to see Staff Sergeant Rivera, 2-4's squad leader, sliding down into the trench with his men filtering in behind him. With his platoon fully assembled, the Lieutenant kicked back into gear. He needed to structure this to get the job done as efficiently as possible while allowing the fresh blood to get as much experience as possible without getting wasted.
"Alright, listen up," DuPont spoke over the sound of battle erupting from the bunker's depths. "New guys are about to get a crash course in trench warfare. Anyone who went through the pre-invasion training takes point — I want you up front showing them how it's done." He looked specifically at the more experienced NCOs. "I need you to teach on the move. Show them how to check corners, how to use grenade wells, proper sectors of fire — fucking everything."
He then turned to the newer soldiers and saw the barely concealed anxiety mixed with excitement. "You newbies stay right behind the veterans. Watch what they do, learn fast, and for fuck's sake, try not to get yourselves killed."
"Rivera," DuPont gestured to the network of trenches around them, "your boys are reinforcing Takashi. I need these tunnels mapped and cleared. If you find any that lead off this hill, collapse the fucking things. The last thing we need is some magical asshole sneaking in behind us."
Rivera nodded sharply. "Got it, sir. You want us pushing clockwise or counter?"
"Takashi’s already pushing clockwise. He's already got men in the system." DuPont shifted his weight, changing his magazine as he spoke. "I'm taking 2-3 to reinforce Evans. His sector's got the most ground to cover, and these trenches are looking to be deeper than we thought."
"What about demo?" Rivera asked, already signaling his men to move up.
"Engineers are moving up behind us. Mark anything that you can’t bring down, but keep pushing. We can't afford to sit around waiting for them." DuPont checked his watch quickly. "Check in every ten. If you lose comms for more than five minutes, I'm assuming you're all dead."
"Comforting as always, sir," Rivera said with a chuckle and a shake of his head before turning to his men. "Come on, let’s go hunt some rats!"
With Rivera moving to reinforce Takashi, DuPont turned and made his way back through the maze of trenches, finding 2-3 exactly where he left them. Most maintained security at the junction while a fire team had pushed ahead, slowly exploring the path that snaked further uphill with their weapons at the ready.
Dropping to a knee beside Staff Sergeant Wilson, DuPont keyed his radio. "2-2, this is 2 actual. Status?"
"2 actual, this is 2-2," Evans' voice crackled back. "Light resistance. It looks like they barely started building the place.” 2-2’s squad leader informed. “I’m lookin’ at what I think is construction equipment than bunkers. Over."
DuPont sat there for a moment as he weighed his options. On one hand, he could hunker down and secure this junction. It was a decent position overlooking the entire base of the hill and a path that led straight up it, or he could push up this path and see if there were any bunkers in the proximity of the assaulting platoons.
The safest option was to stay put and maintain security until further orders were made, but that didn't sit right with him. The unexplored trench leading to the top of this could be hiding anything from more half-built bunkers to an entire network of tunnels.
"2-2, push to my position," DuPont finally responded. Follow the main trench west until you hit a T-junction, " the lieutenant ordered as he popped his EUD down to check the situation in their area of operation. "You'll see my guys pulling security. Leave a fireteam to watch your sector and link up with me. How copy?"
"2-2 copies all.” Staff Sergeant Evans replied. “Moving to you now. Out."
With that out of the way, DuPont turned to the sounds of intense combat that echoed from beyond the hill. The crack of heavy weapons and the distinctive thump of explosions suggested that the units pushing inland were meeting far stiffer resistance than what they'd encountered here, which didn’t make sense to the Lieutenant. This hill should have been the defender's number one priority. One battery of artillery or even 120mm mortars up here could make life hell for anyone trying to move through the valley below. Yet here they were, finding more shovels than soldiers.
It was a struggle to understand the enemy's priorities. Clearly, their values in terms of tactical and strategic positions didn’t align with their own, but the fundamentals of taking and holding high ground were universal throughout Earth’s history. Maybe they hadn't expected an attack so soon, or perhaps they just didn't think the same way about defensive positions. Either way, DuPont wasn't about to complain about their good fortune.
Snapping his EUD back to his chest, DuPont looked up to see the fire team still moving cautiously up the pathway. "Wilson!" he called out. "Get your boys to hold until Evans gets here."
“Roger that, sir.” Wilson nodded before taking off toward his men, leaving DuPont to his own devices at the center of the junction. The Lieutenant kept an eye on the squad leader as he spoke aggressively with his men, pointing with his entire hand toward DuPont.
But as this exchange occurred, the radio became a hotbed of traffic as Ward spoke up. “All Bravo elements, this is 6. Sitrep.”
"Bravo 3, peak is clear," a voice crackled over the net. "Found nothing but incomplete fortifications."
"Bravo 4 our sector is also clear," another Platoon leader chimed in. "No resistance in our AO. These positions look fresh — dirt's barely settled."
As all of Bravo Company's platoons sounded off, the sound of boots trampling dirt and hushed voices announced 2-2's arrival. Evans' men soon filtered into the junction, taking up positions along the trench walls, with a few maintaining security above them.
"Bravo 1," the transmission was punctuated by intense gunfire. "Got some holdouts in a bunker complex, but we're cleaning house. Should be wrapped in ten mikes."
"Bravo 6, this is 2," DuPont keyed his radio. "Most resistance eliminated in our sector. Found extensive tunnel networks, still clearing and mapping. One casualty, non-critical."
With the platoon reports giving him a full picture of what he was dealing with, Ward's voice immediately cut through the network. "Six copies all. Engineers are moving up to demo any tunnels leading off the hill. I want every bunker mapped and marked.” The company commander ordered, "Bravo 3, move to support Bravo 2’s cleanup. Everyone else, continue the mission. Six out."
DuPont lowered his hand from his radio as a series of acknowledgments came through. Most of the hill appeared to be already secured, and all that was left was to clear out these tunnels. But part of this operation was to take these tunnels. Trench warfare, or what was looking more likely, subterranean warfare, was always an extremely dangerous endeavor with an extremely high casualty rate. Even a handful of these magic users could turn a simple clearing operation into a bloodbath.
But, lucky for them, it seemed that this hill was far from ready for any type of action as it was missing season soldiers to defend it. “Alright, gather up,” DuPont said, keeping his voice low. "Here's what we know — Takashi's squad hit some resistance in a bunker back there. Wasn't many of them, but one of these bastards managed to light up Johnson with some crystal bullshit before they took him down."
"We need options here," DuPont continued, gesturing up the dark pathway. "These tunnels are perfect kill zones. One of these magic-using bastards with a staff at the right choke point..." He let the implications hang in the air. "Grenades work, but we saw what happened in Ohio - they've got those barrier spells or whatever they are. We keep throwing frags down these tunnels, eventually we're gonna run dry."?
Everyone kind of looked at each other with a complicated look for a few minutes before a lone private spoke up.
“Uhh…sir?” The private said as every face turned back to him. “What about CS gas?”