Hussariot
22-08-2005, 19:00
*Lt. Harvey lay up in the brush, totally hidden. Through the sight of his International 18 Sniper rifle he had observed all of the landings, and now his objective was almost in reach. The enemy forces had ben able to maintain a hold on the beach, but were stuck in the dunes, pinned down by small arms fire. The Artillery of the Hussariot forces was gradually zeroing in, inflicting ever more severe casualties. It was only the officers that were managing to hold their men together. And now Harvey had a perfect view of their C.O, presumably a Colonel by the stripes on his collar. Even now, as water trails from approaching enemy reinforcemnt L.C.I's were growing closer, Harvey began to apply more pressure on the trigger, gently he pulled it right back, and a silver pellet of lead came spiralling out of the weapon, forcing the rifle back into harveys tender shoulder. But it was worth it, the bullet continued on its course, cutting through the air, before smacking into the colonels head, leaving him slumbed dead on the floor.
Miles away, Major Bettle, the commander of 3 Squadrons of Challenger 2 tanks, observed the scene through his Field glasses, in the distance he could see more L.T.I's approaching. Accompanying them ould be a massive bombardment he reasoned. Hastily he issued fresh orders, and immediately, the tanks fanned out into open order and began to hull down, in a perfect line of fire on the beach and the advancing ships.
He barked an order.
"Okay men. When I give the order, Squadron A will fire upon the beach with high explosive. HQ Squadron and Squadron B will fire upon the advancing boats with frag and armour piercing. HQ with a.p and B with frag. First salvo shall be fired in unison, afterwards, independent action." His men murmurred there agreement.
"Okay, Crews prepare to fire" After a couple of seconds and the sound of cartridges sliding into breeches, Bettle finished his orders.
"Fire."
Miles away, Major Bettle, the commander of 3 Squadrons of Challenger 2 tanks, observed the scene through his Field glasses, in the distance he could see more L.T.I's approaching. Accompanying them ould be a massive bombardment he reasoned. Hastily he issued fresh orders, and immediately, the tanks fanned out into open order and began to hull down, in a perfect line of fire on the beach and the advancing ships.
He barked an order.
"Okay men. When I give the order, Squadron A will fire upon the beach with high explosive. HQ Squadron and Squadron B will fire upon the advancing boats with frag and armour piercing. HQ with a.p and B with frag. First salvo shall be fired in unison, afterwards, independent action." His men murmurred there agreement.
"Okay, Crews prepare to fire" After a couple of seconds and the sound of cartridges sliding into breeches, Bettle finished his orders.
"Fire."