NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is purely to set up my country, if anyone is interested it would be good to message me first. This is not a foreign intervention RP, they are just boring. One superpower (or just a military), and me (a huge nation, but just by land area), in a war for our sovereignity. Any info is dotted throughout the IC part. Others can find a role if they wish, maybe a government allying with me (the much smaller side) to help win the battle, forging an alliance in the process.

IC:

The television set burst into action displaying troops marching. Where? It wasnt clear yet. After 38 years of war, Paul Tela was sick of it. We marched and we marched and we marched. All we ever seemed to do was march. This was nearing the end of the war, the climax. Winning would mean a nation for its people to call home, Deltara. Failure, the eradication of a military, the eventual downfall of our success over 38 years, the end to a dream.

When I was a young man, just 12, I remembered the start of the war. We had a small piece of land given to us to avoid a conflict, but obviously populations grow. We demanded more land, peacefully. They grew sick and tired of talks, and fired the first shot. The assassination made the situation escalate, until that day. The military advanced on a totally unprepared nation, capturing 60 miles of ground on the first day. They didnt know what hit them. We were winning, but now? We are locked in a cold war, over seventeen million square kilometres of land for ourselves. It seemed we were to make one last push for sovereignity, individuality, a nation to call ours.

The news reporter spoke about the images at last. "Deltaran troops march, once again, towards the border of the enemy." A helicoptor flew overhead. She started again. "The military is hoping to push for a surrender, the opposition have lost enough land to continue. We are by no means better, but by God, are we good at blagging!"

The image returned to a studio, with two people laughing about the joke that was just made, perhaps inviting everyone else to find it funny. TV was definetly not a strong point of Deltara, apparently military expertise was.

Paul walked out of the door, grabbing his coat as he went.

C-130H Hercules Transport Aircraft
Forty Miles from Deltara

Colonel Thomas Prax commanded the 135th Air Assault (Infantry) Regiment, the famed “Golden Spears”, of the 1st Airbourne Infantry Division. They were the rapid reaction force for the IH military and had proved that over the past day.

Less than five hours after President Anderson have the “go” order they were entrained on their transport aircraft for the flight to Deltara. Finally the less interventionalists in the government had given into the relentless military pressure for action with some of its huge amount of forces and now the Golden Spears was at the forefront of that wave. They knew that right behind them were the other two Regiments of the 1st Airbourne, the 192nd “Iron Swords” and 205th “Bronze Fist” both of which also had the standard complement of 5,000 combat troops each. From what brief news they had heard it seemed like they were going to be living up to the Divisional motto.

“First to the Fight”







“Thanks Tom. I’m standing here on the quayside at number three dock just outside Gillen at the huge IH Naval base. As you can see behind me the troops of several currently unknown Marine units have been loading heavy equipment onto these amphibious ships all morning. Just a few minutes ago the stream of traffic heading into the docks temporarily halted and we were able to gain a small view at the Divisional patches of some of the vehicles currently being loaded. Unfortunately since that time we have been ordered that their identities cannot be revealed and the Military Police were very insistent. All I can say is that they are part of the Rapid Reaction Force that the Defence Department announced earlier would be sent to Deltara to secure the freedom and independence of that country.”

Behind the male reporter another convoy of tank transporters pulls up, all carrying Marine Tanks in woodland battle camoflauge. Slowly the ramps are lowered and as the camera pans the first of the tanks moves quickly off and proceeds to the stern ramp of a ship, carefully negotiating its way down the ramp to be swallowed up into the cavernous interior, swiftly followed by the other eight of the troop.

The house was a comfortable one, housing a family of five, parents, grandparent and two children. They had been killed in the last assault on the town by the viscious monsters that were the oppressive government, the one they were trying to defeat now. Its vast empire was being taken little bit by little bit, until we had ample land. Now, its a battle for freedom. Everything that was left when they died remained, working electrics and water, everything. It made it the perfect accomodation for a strike to be launched from. It was near the border.


Military base, five miles from the border

The men stood around talking as the General walked past. "ATTENTION! WHAT DO YOU CALL YOURSELVES? YOU LOOK A MESS! TIDY UP MEN!" They all hurried to sort out their uniform and clean their boots.

A private came up to the general. "Last troops are filtering in sir, every man we can find minus the home guard. Weapons are prepared, we can march in at nightfall."

"Very well."

The door opened, as a soldier stepped out. The men were sleeping inside, waiting for the call to war, as they would get into transport and go over the border. No warning, it was already open war. No doubt there would be strong border defenses.


Border Defenses

"You got a smoke?" One was handed to him as he lighted it. "Do you think they will ever make a move, or will we crush them sometime?"

"They will, we just dont know when. It could be tonight, but intel suggests its next week. We can relax until then!" The soldier swung his feet round onto the table.

They both laughed.

Deltaran Airbase, near the coast

Prax had been at the base for less than an hour, but already his Regimental Command Post was set up in a Khaki green tent near to a large hangar housing Deltaran Fighters.

Fluttering in the light breeze above this on the newly erected flagpole the Regimental Standard shone brightly in the late afternoon sun, the crossed shapes of the two Golden Spears stood proudly on the red background. Fluttering along the edge of the flag furthest from the pole came the nine smaller campaign flags that were pinned to the main flag. The Regiment had a combat history that started with the defence of Sniper Country passing through the Dr_Twist Civil War, the Talaax wars and the dispute with Intelligent Neighbours, ending with the action after the fall of Redge. Below the flagpole stood three men armed with XM-8 Carbines, guarding the standard that dated back before they were all born.

The rest of the Headquarters company busied themselves around the collection of tents, setting up communication links and attempting to liase with the local commanders. Few local troops seemed present, but they guessed that these had been moved out to counter the threat at the border.

Prax emerged from the main tent to check his troops positions as the first of their Mobile SAM launchers drove itself out of the cavernous hold of a C-141 Globemaster. It was followed by a radar acquisition van and then the command vehicle for the battery. Within two hours they would be operating to aid the local air defence grid that may be facing retalitory airstrikes.

The sun set over the horizon, causing an orange glow to settle over the vast plain seperating them from the enemy. The scene was so peaceful, the resulting actions were far from. APCs started their engines, to carry troops over the border, 20miles from enemy positions. Tanks rolled forwards, and aircraft began to prepare. As the forces marched, ten miles from target they would drop their loads onto key enemy positions.

"Lets roll!" The squad let off a scream. The vehicle skidded on the loose ground and lurched forward, shooting off into the distance. Others were more calm in their start, but 13th Strike Force had a saying, "If it has to be done, do it like a nutcase on speed!" They certainly lived up to it. They slowed to let others catch up a mile in, and as they did they kept speed. Most tanks had left slightly earlier, already there ready to strike.

At the front line tank commanders were readying, seeking enemy positions to center attacks. The enemy had an underground system on this line, it was known by intel a few years back. That was the strike forces job.

---------------------
Three hours later, 00:00

The troops had arrived at the front line, and an eery silence had fallen over them. They looked over the horizon at the sight that lay before them. "Command HQ, this is BLUECHIP. Enemy positions... destroyed."

bump

OOC: Sorry for delay, I am moving house and things didnt go quite as planned. Hopefully a better follow up post coming soon.

IC:

Prax had now been joined in his command post by the CO's of both the "Iron Swords" and the "Bronze Fist. They were discussing the troop allocations for the front line, which they knew that they would soon be ordered to. Information had already come through that the Deltarans had made good initial progress, however many on the planning staff wondered how long that could be maintained.

However by the time they got there they hoped to have some support. The Air Force had begun flying in the first of fifty-four F-15C Interceptors earmarked for Air Superiority missions along with ten E-3A Sentry AWACS aircaft. There were also another twenty-four F-15E Strike Eagles that would follow them to Deltara once the tanker assets had been moved into place.

The Marines were also jumping into action, their 42nd Regiment was five days sailing away and contained a full strength Heavy Tank Battalion as well as a full divisional set of artillery. They were escorted by the carriers Bunker Hill and Gillen with close support being provided by the Battleship Sabre.

The troops advanced regardless as the first aircraft flew overhead, its jet engine roaring. Five seconds later an explosion signalled a target hit. Suddenly, a burst of machine gun fire fired across the field as all the men dropped to a prone position and crawled in on the enemy. One man kneeled, taking aim at the flashes of light. A fizz was heard nearby it over the fire, as the soldier dropped to the ground. An explosion and the fire stopped. The men jumped up and sprinted into the direction of it.

13th dropped into the bunker, ready to clear out their section of underground tunnel.

"Golden Spears" Command Post
Serving as 1st Airbourne Infantry Division Command

It was a strange feeling for Prax, for once he was near a combat zone and had very little to do. The men whom he had trained and faced enemy fire with on so many occasions were doing their jobs seamlessly, but with no unit actually engaged yet there was little for Prax to do but pace the planning tent.

Part of him wished he hadnt trained the men as well as he had, at least then he would have had something to do. But that was ridiculous. The IH Military prided itself on the training that it gave its men, whilst their equipment was not up to the massively high tech standards that seemed to shift ever further into the future everyday the training more than made up for it.

The sound of artillery fire came from the distance, the wind carrying the noise from the ever changing frontline that was the only reminder of the conflict going on less than thirty miles away. Prax raised a hand to his forehead, scratching where their was no itch only to pass time and appear as if he was doing something. Slung over his shoulder his XM-8 reminded him of his function in life, to end others, but it seemed lost at times like these when he knew that his place was at the rear commanding rather than at the front leading.

He wandered around the small collection of tents, only to be woken from his entranced state by the sound of a low moving helicopter travelling fast towards him. Along with several guards he hurried outside, watching two men shoulder their portable SAM's from within a small emplacement. It was by then apparent that they didnt need to, the Knighthawk helicopter flared briefly to get rid of its excess speed and settled on the makeshift pad that had been constructed barely ten minutes beforehand. The side doors opened at once and before the rotors had stopped turning a short figure dressed in combat clothing, but wearing the insignia of Brigadier-General got out and squat-ran towards the tents.

Prax saluted smartly as the figure approached and the whine of the turbojets had decreased enough to allow them to hear each other without shouting. Prax begun, his voice louder than usual.

"Good Morning Sir. Welcome to Middle of Nowhere, Deltara"

"Morning to you too Prax. Whats the SITREP?"

"Golden Spears are ready to rock. Our transports are bringing the men up to forward staging areas as we speak. Currently we are being put in as a Reserve Regiment for this Deltaran Division here" he pointed at a section of the map that was the frontline directly in front of them.

"Good. When my other two Regiments have moved up we will take over part of the front ourselves hopefully. I'm still in negotiations with Deltaran command over that, appears they want to keep our presence low key and also use us to bolster any areas that appear to falter in the advance or suffer from local counterattacks."

"Very well Sir. My men are ready to be deployed where ever. They are itching for a fight, we've been out of this for too long."

A grin began to spread on Prax's face, matched slightly by the Generals.

"I thought so Prax. Just keep it cool and calm, make sure as many of our boys make it through as possible." the General paused to take a sip from his canteen "Anyhow, I need to visit our other two Regiments before lunch. Keep up the good work, your my eyes and ears for now"

"Yes Sir. IVIS will be up and running and I'll have the feed distributed to your HQ when its up and running."

The General nodded and saluted before turning and walking back to his helicopter. When the pilot saw him returning he flicked the switches to bring the turbojets back online with high pitched wailing. When the General was buckled in safely and the rotors turning at maximum revs the large helicopter lifted into the air, turned and dropped its nose heading in the same direction that it had come in from, away from the front.


F-15C Interceptor 35,000 feet above the battlefield

On command from the orbiting AWACS thirty miles behind them the twelve F-15C's each fired a pair of AAM-3 missiles at a range of nearly one hundred and thirty miles.

Their targets were fourteen enemy fighters that had come up after a pair of Deltaran aircraft that had just completely a bombing run. The AAM-3's were long range missiles that were capable of taking directions and targetting data from the AWACS, meaning that the fighters had not had to turn on the massive radar around which their aircraft was based.

The enemy had no idea that death was approaching them.

"Get troops on that line, NOW SOLDIER!" The HQ was more than busy, the new electronic maps updating every second were being closely monitored, General Hooch commanding the ground troops.

A yell came up, "SQUAD 287 TAKING HEAVY FIRE!"

Front line, some 35 miles from border, two minutes earlier

Squad 287 advanced, jogging forward, occasionally crouching and moving to take pop shots at the enemy. Their troops were taking up defensive positions so they could lay down some fire. "ENEMY DOWN!" and then a load "HOOAH!"

Suddenly, out of nowhere came heavy machine gun fire. "TAKE COVER!" The men dropped down to the floor and crawled forward to any substantial cover they could find as quick as they could. The same man shouted "MAN DOWN!"

War was a bloody afair in this region, the enemy was not known for its gentlemanly warfare. It seemed unfair really, having to face an enemy with such ways.

Squad Leader Jackson radioed in to HQ while he changed output on his signal device. "287 UNDER HEAVY FIRE, CASUALTIES TAKEN". The state of the art map would have given a red flashing signal with an X through it, displayed in the position that the squad of four was.

Two minutes later

"SQUAD 287 TAKING HEAVY FIRE." Hooch took a quick look at his personal map, searched for 287 and located them.

"GET THAT MACHINE GUN TAKEN OUT! RPG OR SOMETHING, JUST GET IT TAKEN OUT, NOW!"

The control room was a mess. Hooch's screen flashed up with a message. "Communication link with DAF [Deltaran Air Force]". He opened the line. "Hooch! We have successful hits on twelve targets in two boming runs. Strategic positions 1 through 13, excluding 7. Your troops are too close to continue, striking 28 on now." The communication cut off before Hooch could get a reply in.

"Bloody DAF, always blaming the Army!" He muttered to himself.

It was true, there was great rivalry between the three seperate areas of the military (DAF, Army and RNoD [Royal Navy of Deltara, or RN for short]). Although they could pull together when needed, it was rare and they all went glory hunting for the same goal. Hooch hated this, he just wanted a unified military. Maybe if the leadership of the others changed things would change, but it didnt look promising any time soon.

"Sir, machine gun temporary positioning reference 57 destroyed!" Hooch looked at his map.

Squad 287's Position, Front Line

The troops jumped up, as the squad medic took care of the casualty, calling for an evacuation of the casualty at the same time. The rest of the squad defended him. Another squad ran on past, the soldier with an RPG signalling to the squad with a quick on the move salute. It was this army unity that made most soldiers job an enoyable one, even in the worst of times.

143rd Air Superiority Wing
Above the Battlefield

The twelve original F-15's were joined by another squadron just before their missiles blazed in onto their new enemy.

In the cockpits of their aircraft the enemy pilots didn't sense danger until three of their number exploded. The rest tried to take evasive maneuvers but for five it was not enough as they joined their comrades heading for the ground as fiery balls of metal. Only two managed to eject, one of them with a broken leg and he winced in pain as he floated slowly down to earth under a deployed canopy.

From the AWAC's the controllers watched as the remaining fighters turned and broke, their own missile tracking radars not picking up any targets such was the range of the Hitman strike. They let them go, noting the course they took to towards their airfield. Once the F-15E's had enough munitions they would strike at those, but until then they had come up for the much more manly persuit of riding shotgun on the big converted 707's that served as the base for the AWAC's system.

At a lower altitude from the AWAC's, another converted 707 now circled. This RC-135 was an electronic communications monitoring aircraft, essentially a lot of radio instruments flying in close formation and then wrapped into the skin of the former passenger aircraft. The operators in this aircraft were snooping on enemy communications as well as looking at the different frequencies that were in use. A seperate team aboard the aircraft also tracked in on SAM radars and the frequencies that they were using, when another RC-135 came up later in the day they could begin to triangulate the position of some of those radar sets allowing the F-15E's and the F-16CG Wild Weasels to begin their destructive work on them.


Colonel Prax, Commander of the Golden Spears

Prax was now moving forward at the front of his command. He was in the lead HMMWV of the convoy, the Regimental Standard fluttering in the breeze above his head as he leaned out of the gunners port in the roof. Turning his head rearwards he saw the gunner on the HMMWV behind him tense slightly as he felt his commanders gaze on him, but a simple nod was all he got.

The convoy entered into the edge of a small wood, the gunners and men in the backs of the trucks instantly becoming more wary and nervously thumbing their safety catches. In theory they were well behind the front line, however theory wasn't always matched by reality. The single OH-58 recon helicopter infront of them reported a small Deltaran Military Police roadblock infront and the convoy slowly approached it, the two lead HMMWV's drawing level as they did so.

Prax stepped out and was followed by two men carrying their XM-8's, seemingly ready for trouble. They stayed far enough away from their commander that one burst was unlikely to take them all down, but close enough to keep him effectively covered. Two Deltaran Military Police approached them, their weapons held similarly but with more relaxed looks on their faces.

As they begun to talk a third HMMWV arrived, skirting along the edge of the narrow road that the trucks were using. In it rode Major Ken Jenson, commander of the lead Battalion of the Regiment, known for his keen sense of forthcoming danger he for some reason felt as if this was a trap. Perhaps some of the enemy left over when the fighting had passed them had set up an ambush. Better safe than sorry he thought as he picked up the radio mike set on his dash board.

"Captain Nelson, take you company and secure the tree line. A platoon either side if you will."

The reciever crackled a response and behind the HMMWV the rear doors of several trucks thumped open with metallic clangs as soldiers wearing the patches carrying the two crossed Golden Spears jumped down and quickly moved to either side of the trail holding their weapons at the ready.

In their woodland camoflauge uniforms the men quickly fanned out into the trees, the ten man squads sticking together as they penetrated some ten metres before stopping. Squad leaders exchanged quick tactical messages over their mouthpieces, shifting frequencies to the small units that each of their men carried as they gave them positions.

Quickly men set up M249's in small revetments that were naturally made by the trees as others took up positions with their XM-8s held ready, heads constantly turning as they looked for danger.

"Commander Prax I take it?" The first DMP (Deltaran Military Police) officer spoke. "What do we have here?" The second glanced down the line of vehicles.

Although expecting a question or reply, the officer stopped speaking. Sensing the pause was for nothing, he continued. "Your troops have been given full clearance to pass. Please proceed." The two officers gave a salute, not as a sign of respect as such, more as a sign of friendliness. They returned to their post.

The Tela Household

Fighting continues on the front line. Troops are reported to be in a stalemate, returning fire and struggling to gain ground. Reports are unconfirmed. Allied troops are yet to reach the front line, as 12 casualties have been counted, no fatalities as yet.

Paul Tela was watching the news broadcast with great interest. Standing, he walked into the study area. Putting a map in front of him, he charted enemy positions and Deltaran troops. There was a sound at the door, as he quickly rolled the map up and stored it out of sight, and went to open the door.

The Front Line

287 was hidden behind a hill, one man down, as the squad leader peered over the top with binoculars. "Enemy position, approx 20 metres north east." The Grenadier in the squad, from experience knew this meant where to point it. He took aim and fired. After an explosion the squad leader added "Good shot soldier! Target hit!"

The gruoup jumped up and ran towards the enemy position, looking for enemy soldiers as they went. They jumped into the underground position, a vantage point to see more enemy units and a defense point. Rifle fire came from the right, as another unit ran ahead of their position. Suddenly from nowhere there was a flash and a loud bang. "Who turned out the fucking lights?"

Confusion gathered inside the confined area, but eventually some regained sight. "GRENADE!" There was a scramble to get out, as one soldier lobbed it back, blindly, towards another unit. They luckily scattered, avoiding the blast.

Some were thrown to the floor, and one almost injured by debris. The position was quickly evacuated.

As both units slowly gathered their composure, they continued their job. Almost the first deaths of the conflict, and from friendly fire.

Golden Spears convoy

Prax smiled thinly at the two MP's, trading salutes was a good gesture. He turned and motioned for the vehicles to come up towards him and raised an eyebrow as he saw Jenson's vehicle come first. As it pulled alongside him the young Major leaned out of the window to talk to his commander

"Sir, I deployed flank protection. I got a funny feeling about this."

"Well then, those boys were very helpful actually. GPS is right, another four klicks in that direction then we lose these trucks for a while and mount up in the Hummers. Call in the flank guards, we move on in twenty seconds."

"Yes Sir."

For once the young Major had been shown up by his commander. A rare occurance, but exactly what Prax needed this close to combat.

As the Major radioed in his men the first of the trucks lurched forward and begun down the roadway following Prax's own vehicle which he had now remounted. Light rain begun as the MP's moved aside their roadblock and he waved cheerfully at them as he continued towards his assembly point.

The sounds of war grew closer and with every mile they travelled down the road it became clearer they were entering a war zone. Shell craters littered the area and the hulks of burnt vehicles and fortifications were evident from some vantage points for the men in the back of the trucks.

Shortly after passing through a Deltaran Maintenance Depot the majority of the trucks pulled off the road and the men began to disembark. Only those carrying the Regimental Artillery of four batteries of 155mm Howitzers and 24 Self Propelled Guns continued further forward to set up their positions.

He lay there. In the same spot for two hours, he lay there. His sniper rifle rested comfortably.

Breathing deeply all the while, he took one round of ammunition as he saw the troops, loaded his weapon and used binoculars to pick his target. One shot, one kill, and escape.

HQ

"IH troops are finally in battle, sir."

"What do you mean finally, these men are here to help, and you are criticising them?"

"Im sorry, sir."

"I shall pass your news on to General Hooch."

The HQ was quiet today, more troops had been shifted to the frontline earlier that morning, they were placed in the area which was neither too difficult to break through nor too easy. It was just south of the hardest point.

"I want these men to breakthrough the line, march forward, and curl round on this enemy grouping here." Hooch was pointing to the large map on the wall using a stick. "We can then free up a lot of troops to make the push for Karakatow."

"Very well. I trust you in that course of action Hooch." Field Marshall Reston was at the peak of his career, 46 years of age, greying hair and the harshest discipline. To be caught slacking by him was very serious indeed. To be caught slacing in front of Hooch was to be warned twice, then punished.

Reston stood, saluted Hooch (as did he) and left the room with his soldiers following. Hooch sat down and thought.

Front line, just south of A-POINT

A soldier looked up into the sky, when all of a sudden small white dots began to appear. They all dropped near their position, before gunfire was heard. "ATTACK!" Troops jumped up and ran towards the enemy, shooting them down as they went. Two men were hit in the attack, as they met paratroops in the middle, capturing 3 enemy soldiers. "Get these men to HQ for interrogation." Two soldiers followed orders and stuck them in the APC.

The two sergeants shook hands, exchanging words. "We were not warned of your arrival before hand."

"We are here to help in the attack on A-POINT. We are not shifting troops to help, we are trapping them in a circle of troops. They wont know what hit them."

"Very good, a pincer?"

"Exactly. We had better get moving, we need to get into position tonight for the attack tomorrow." The two saluted and moved back to their groups.

Frontline, currently held by The Golden Spears

The men huddled nervously in the cellar of a building gutted by fire. The floor was littered with chocolate wrappers, spent ammunition and other commodities that they had consumed during the intense night. They were the ten man reserve for the Motorised Company that had taken the small town in the early hours of the morning, utilising their night fighting skills to push the unalert enemy forces from the buildings. Those same forces could be heard digging in on the edge of the trees that bordered the town, barely fifty metres from the forward OP that had been set up.

The paratroopers stood as their Commander entered. As the reserve they also formed his bodyguard during times of conflict which these certianly were. Already four of the men were dead and a further twelve had been evacuated in HMMWV's for later pick up by helicopters.

All three platoons were around the edge of the village nearest to the enemy, for this attack they were dismounted from their armoured HMMWV's and LAV's (Light Armoured Vehicles). The men would rely on their XM-8's and a fierce artillery barrage that was due to begin in three minutes.

One hundred and seventry three men counted those three minutes, until they heard the shriek of shells whistling overhead into the enemy positions. The accuracy of the fire was devastating, not one round falling short. This was due in part to the UAV that circled the area above, its cameras feeding information back to the divisional artillerymen that operated the fifteen self-propelled guns that were assigned to this attack.

After barely a minute the IH paratroops began advancing using basic fire and maneuver tactics. Behind them came their vehicles, the big .50 calibre machine guns laying down suppressing fire, shredding trees and bodies alike.

The enemy tried fighting back, machine guns sending streams of lead into the advancing groups. Body armour stopped some of the rounds, but even so another five paratroops were dead before they had advanced more than twenty yards. However by exposing their positions early the enemy gave the artillery a chance to pound on them before they could do significant damage to the company's advance. The controllers of the circling UAV locked its cameras onto the muzzle flashes of the enemy heavy weapons that had been hastily dug in, pinpointing their position with its GPS and then transmitting its position to the guns. Where needed they altered their sights and then fired.

A curtain of mud and dirt rose up as the heavy shells impacted, in the most case utterly destroying the flimsy enemy positions. If they could break through quickly the Mechanized Marine Regiment standing a mile back from the front could be unleashed into the enemies rear areas in this sector, causing chaos and destroying enemy supplies.



1st Airbourne Infantry Division HQ

"General Sir, news from the front. Colonel Prax reports his units are moving forward across his sector, encountering initial resistance but that is faltering as we push them out of the prepared positions."

"Good. Keep me informed of that. How long until the other two Regiments are in position to start their attack?"

"Three hours Sir."

The man was waved away and the General sat back into his easy chair, a luxury that he allowed himself in his command trailer, as he looked at the battle map on his wall.

So far overall progress had been reasonably good. His dismounted infantry had made four miles in the first few hours of their combat commitment, thanks largely to the decision to attack at night in that sector. The enemy had seemed to get complacent with the Deltaran unit that had been facing them and had not been prepared with a night onslaught that had left four key towns in his hands. With those roads open he hoped his Mechanized Regiment could push forward with its full tank battalion in support and savage the enemies rear and then withdraw before they could bring up support.

He wished he had the assets for a full attack, but knew that they were still streaming off of the ships at the deep water harbour two days travel from the front even if there was the infrastructure to support them.

1st Airbourne Infantry now came under the executive command of the IH 14th Army, the newly created Army that denoted all IH forces currently in the theatre. Coming off the boats at the port was the most part of VII Corps with its five divisions, the 3rd Mechanized Infantry, 8th (Heavy) Armoured, 21st Heavy Mechanized Infantry , 33rd Mechanized Infantry and the 12th Armoured Division. Together that made over two thousand Main Battle Tanks and double that number of armoured personnel carriers. The Corps was spearheaded by its own Armoured Cavalry Regiment, the 2nd ACR, which was even now loading on flatbeds for its journey towards the front.

The IH Commander in theatre, Lt. General Jack Roberts, planned to use his force to hammer through the enemy frontline and then cause them to make a General retreat. However to do so he would need to co-operation of his allies and as yet he did not know how he fitted into their plans.

Fierce fighting on the front continued, and fatalities had occurred at last. One man died after emergency surgery to remove three bullets from various places, and two were gunned down in the field. They were loaded into the vehicles that since the start of the war had been named "death beds" and taken back to Deltara for burial.

The men were eager to make further advancements in to enemy territory, as were the generals. However, they were already a long way from home and supply lines needed to be firstly created and secondly maintained.

The newly arrived paratroopers and A-POINT troops moved on throughout the night, rounding in on the enemy.

Four hours earlier, night time

"Men are ready, sir." They were all speaking in hush whispers, hidden within trees, the enemy's camp laying directly ahead. "Recon have a plan of the camp." A map was handed to the sergeant.

"I want two groups, one to round in through this exit, the other straight ahead. Set fire sleeping quarters to drive them out and kill them, we have too few troops to capture the enemy until the end. Capture high ranking officers if possible. Minimal casualties please. Secure munitions and weapons for our own use."

"Very well, sir." The man, squating, moved off.

Two men walked past the tree line, as one soldier move forward. The sergeant looked horrified, standing also to pull him back. The soldier removed a knife and killed one enemy and pulled the other back, covering his mouth, back to the treeline. He was definetly showing initiative, but it was neither the time nor the place.

"Idiot." The sergeant harshly whispered, taking out a silenced pistol, pointing it towards the captured soldier.

"Do you understand me?" A quick nod followed. "You will not make any sound unless I say so otherwise, or you die. Understand?" Another quick nod followed as another soldier pulled the dead body to the trees. "Do you need to report in." He shook his head, as the sergeant let off a huge sigh of relief.

He looked over to the camp, then at his watch. "Start attack at 01:48," he whispered into his radio.

They lay waiting.

OOC: Sorry about the delay again, Internet went down friday night and has only just been fixed! Hopefully last delay!

IC:

IH 14th Army Headquarters

The Army Headquarters was more a collection of mobile command vehicles that moved twice a day than a fully emplaced headquarters unit. That reflected two things. The mobile movement of the war since the main bulk of the 14th Army had been deployed and the paranoia that the enemy may fix the position of the commanders and strike at them accordingly.

The war had gone well so far, well reasonably. The 2nd Armoured Cavalry Regiment had punched through a lightly defended sector along with the leading elements of the 3rd Mechanized Infantry Division. Those two units had then pushed on and savaged an enemy Tank Regiment that was forming up for a counter attack before smashing the infantry support that they were meant to co-operate with.

From then on it had been a case of widening the breach and exploiting it. That had gone well until the enemy had fortified the position along a fast flowing river, IH tanks arriving at the few standing bridges to see them blown sky high by enemy engineers.

Now it had degenerated into a stalemate as the IH and Deltaran commanders looked to find a suitable area to exploit that would allow them rapid expansion. Meanwhile the IH 2nd (Heavy) Armoured was holding the north flank of the bulge, suffering almost daily counter-attacks from enemy armoured infantry trying to cut off the forward IH and Deltaran units.


Delta Squadron, 45th Tank Regiment, 2nd (Heavy) Armoured Division
The Northern Flank

Major Haddock buttoned down the commanders hatch on his M1A2I Abrams Main Battle Tank as he heard the familiar whistling of incoming shells. Once again he thanked himself for choosing the Armoured Corps over the infantry, who were mostly sitting in fox holes that they had dug three days earlier inbetween their Infantry Fighting Vehicles and assorted APC's that carried them to and from battle.

As the first shells fell around his position Haddock thanked his combat engineer's for the positions they had constructed for the tanks. They were "hull down" meaning that only the squat profile of the turret was visible and then only at a reasonably close distance. There were another three positions similar to that between them incase they were forced back, however their orders were to press a counter-attack where-ever possible. One way or another they would not be in that position when darkness came and the Apache's went out hunting.




4 Hours Later........

Haddock threw the turret hatch open for the first time since the battle had started. The cool air that came through the breeze calmed his nerves as he surveyed the scene infront and behind him. They had found themselves back at the original positions after being pushed back two kilometres but then regaining the lost ground when the enemy attack faltered and F-15E Strike Eagles added their munitions to the fray.

All around him were the remains of vehicles that were so expensively produced by their owner countries. Burning funeral pyres that littered the landscape like disgarded rubbish on a city street.

Half of his own tanks were amongst that or in the repair depot set up in a town to the rear. The infantry had fared better, only 50 dead and twice that number wounded, allowing them to hold the majority of the line with their Anti-tank missiles whilst the tanks trundled back to reload their expended ammunition.

As they did that the familiar buzz of attack helicopters fluttered overhead as darkness descended. The night killers were off in their pursuit of enemy supply columns and headquarters units.

The town lay ablaze, bodies scattered throughout the passages between tents, ammunition and fuel stacked high outside. Three transport trucks rolled up to the pile. "LOAD UP THESE GOODS MEN! FILL THE TRUCKS HIGH!" The infantry proceded to load the trucks with great speed and inefficiency.

The distruction of this base would surely hinder enemy efforts. The trucks rolled off, civilian models for military use. The enemy would hopefully not look twice at such a group.


HQ

Reports had filled in of dead on the battlefield, picked off by enemy fire, a whole squa wiped out amongst them and one man in another just about hanging on to his life. Hooch was annoyed, this wasn't the plan.

He read a report on the casualties:

64 Infantrymen, Dead
185 Infantrymen, Incapacitated

He slammed it down on the table not reading any further.


Front Line

"GET DOWN!" The men dropped to the floor, two being slaughtered by a hail of bullets. The sergeant turned to his machine gunner. "LAY DOWN SUPPRESSIVE FIRE TOWARDS THEM, ONE MAGAZINE AND WE GO."

He opened the support rails and fired his nearly full magazine of bullets towards the enemy position. Four minutes later, after he had fired, the squad jumped up and charged on them, hoping they had their heads down. The machine gunner put away the supports and reloaded, before running after them.

"AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH" The sergeant jumped into one enemy soldier firing his rifle at point blank range into his stomach.


Mechanized Division

The grouping of tanks rolled over the open plains, firing at the resistance. Not technologically superior, they had good armour and enough firepower to suffice. The Deltaran made "22n" was the standard to be improved on when sovereignity was achieved. For now, it had to do.

One tank was blasted to pieces by two anti-tank weapons at one time, hitting the front armour, rocking a very close tank so that it had to slow to regain its stability. A multi-role aircraft flew overhead, wiping out a line of soldiers with its whole payload, before turning completely and flying back to base. There was a trench position up ahead, as the company rolled towards it.

The men inside were truly terrified, and unable to stop the onslaught, some began to run, as gunners came out from hiding and gunned them own, while others hid in their entrenched positions. The tanks rolled over the trench, as every one in five slowed and opened a pair of doors in the back. Five troops jumped out of each to capture the trench, the mechanized division working with the infantry.

The troops jumped into the trench, wiping out enemy forces with great success. Quite a lot were captured, who were immediately subdued by a blow to the back of the head, ready for transportation after the war. The tanks rolled on, the troops would be staying here until support came.

Another day, another mile.

IHS Appollina, Greek Class Heavy Cruiser
Northern Seas of Deltara

The Greek Class Heavy Cruiser cut through the small waves that littered the sea from the early morning breeze. Two hundred and fifty yards to port came her sister ship Thessalonica, her nine 12" guns resting ominously in their squat turrets themselves coated in radar deflecting materials.

Not only were the Greek Class Heavy Cruisers some of the most powerful in terms of guns that were sent to sea by the IH Navy but they were also some of the most stealthy, having the radar profile of a small fishing boat at worst.

Now the two cruised together, screened by a pair of frigates a couple of miles in advance and a pair of radar aircraft high above them. Those aircraft had just picked up their target, a small enemy battlegroup centred around their own heavy cruiser.

As the information was crosslinked to the CIC on Appollinia the Captain turned to his weapons officers, ordering the Sea Smart Missile Launcher to be armed and loaded with a AS-1 Surface to Surface Missile. On Thessalonica the same process was repeated and a missile slid out of the circular magazine into the launch position. The Captain and Weapons officers both inserted their keys and turned them as the clock's second hand approached the 12 position. As the two red lights came on the Captain ordered the system into automatic mode.

Two seconds later at exactly 08:45 the first of fifteen missiles soared out of the launcher on Appollinia, followed a split second later by an identical launch from Thessalonica. The grey bodied missiles had barely cleared the launchers when they swivelled in two dimensions to recieve the reload, returning to their positions and firing again before five seconds had passed from the first launch.

When the thirty missiles were in the air the ships emerged from the grey arches of smoke that they had created and continued on their course.

The missiles meanwhile tipped over and began to recieve instructions from the orbiting aircraft who would now guide them to their targets. Each missile was theoretically a capital ship killer, however their performance had never been tested in combat before.

The war had been a long one, a tiring one and a costly one. The rewards were great, but already many had died.

Paul Tela was sleeping.


Recruitment Office

War had been declared and ground won, so the response from the Deltaran people was to sign up. Huge queues outside the mock army recruitment office had formed, and the facility had to expand and get civilian help. 200,000 troops were signed up during the first day, and 350,000 on the second. Most of these had either left, or died.


Front Line

Machine gun fire sprayed the troops with bullets, as the whole squad fell, and others were falling around them. A soldier dived onto the floor and kept their head down, slowly moving backwards. It was a total bloodbath. Young soldier Private Tela was wishing he hadnt signed up.


Tela Household

Paul Tela sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, sweating profusely. Memories haunted him, hanging over him daily like a hideous monster waiting to strike and terrify to breaking point its unwilling victim. Suddenly something sat up next to him, turning he saw a corpse of a friend he hadnt seen in 20 years. It turned its head, whispering "many more will die" in a scratchy voice.


HMS Terror

"Enemy soldiers are fleeing battle overseas, we should move to pick them up for interrogation and other pruposes sir!"

"Good idea, the ship will move north, where they are, taking over ships and leaving them floating."

***

The ship moved towards its first target, when suddenly part of the ship blew apart, shattering everything. The whole ship rocked, able to take the first blow with its technology, barely. A fizz was heard and the ship was hit once more, splitting it in two and sinking. Anyone left alive out of the crew of the ship was jumping off into the water, with oil spilt over its surface from the centralised engine. There was a fire on the ship as it sunk, the men looking at it horrified. The oil was set alight quickly with immediate effect, burning the men and killing them.

Reports began to file into HQ a few minutes after at their failure to transmit their position for those minutes.

With the war in Deltara still progressing, progress has been slow but steady. In his press briefing yesterday Lt.General Roberts commander of the IH 14th Army, currently stationed in Deltara, said:

"Things are progressing as had been planned since our entry into the conflict. There have been casualties on our side, however we are sure that we are making the enemies bleed even more than we are. Recent reports show us that their counter-attacks are being replused in all sectors whilst our own advances continue with only minimal delays."

Whether or not General Robert's words are echo'd by the Deltara Supreme Command has yet to be confirmed, however sources inside their defence department are thought to be looking into the disappearance of HMS Terror two days ago. Unconfirmed reports suggest that it may have been a victim of a friendly fire incident, however the involvement of other parties is yet to be confirmed.

Other sources in the IH Navy state that a task force was indeed present in that area, however it is cited as unlikely that they could have had any involvement in the disappearance of the vessel.



-IH TIMES

HMS Terror Dissapearance Article (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10637809&postcount=3)
Body Found on Beach Article (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10637831&postcount=4)


The sun set over the plains of Deltara, sending out an orange glow across the battlefield. Rifle fire was heard in bursts, missiles hitting targets and aircraft flying overhead.

Allied air superiority was confirmed, their planes ruling the skies. The Deltaran aircraft had, jsut before the attack was started kncoked out a large number of enemy aircraft on the ground, effectively destroying their force. They had put up some resistance which was quickly put down, at the overall cost of two planes and four servicemen.

The HMS Terror was missing in action, the total cost of a ship and around 650 servicemen. On land, 72 infantrymen had been killed, while 207 were taken as casualties. A few tanks were scattered around, little more than burning chunks of metal, and bodies were being bought back from the front at last. Weapons were being reused as they were found and vital equipment stripped from corpses as though it was an open store.

Supreme Command thought the whole operation was going exceedingly well. They had little more than 3 miles to go until the reached Karakatow (a major industrial town), their destination. If they could then capture this town they could enforce a surrender and declare sovereignity. They were also hoping to get even more land from the deal, perhaps the now the whole of the very depleted nation.

Spirirts were high at HQ, but dampened on the front.

The optimistic thoughts already being shown at Deltaran HQ were echoed by the IH Commanders in theatre. The cost was a relatively light one, casualty predictions were not being met, which was a good thing for all concerned. However ammunition and fuel were being used in large quantities, not large enough to worry the supply weenies, but enough for them to notice.

For the most part 14th Army's advance had been halted as Deltaran units were given the task of capturing the industrial city. The IH mechanized units were much better suited for long range rolling combat, not the intensity of street fighting which the Deltarans appeared to be experts at.

Karakatow was in the troops sights, as the soldiers looked onto it. Artillery had been bought in once ground was secure to rain their destructive wrath down upon certain military targets. The army commander laid down a map on a table within a tent. Surveying it, he marked with a big red X the targets for artillery. These buildings and facilities would be razed to the ground, hopefully crippling enemy forces within the town. Every pocket of resistance had to be destroyed before they moved on. It would be hard but worthwile, the rewards too great to give up on.

The places he marked were as follows:

-Military base
-Military airport (runway already destroyed but was repaired suprisingly quickly)
-Army HQ
-Certain city defenses

Passing the map to a non-combatant he pulled out another map. The non-combatant climbed into an APC which headed towards the position of the artillery. On the new map, he planned routes for each element of his forces.

For 10 years Commander Kilroy had been in charge of the capture of cities. Taking three with great success and razing one to the ground at Supreme Commands orders. Kilroy had been assigned a lot of troops, still arriving, to this takeover. He was told to secure every square mile of the town, and not to retreat.

Two hours later the sound of artillery was heard, pounding the city for the next hour. It was also attacking parks and derelict buildings that the map had indicated, so as to potentially strike fear into the enemy troops, or hopefully just what was left of them.

Two IH divisions were involved in helping the Deltaran units attack the small city. The 103rd Mechanized Division was completing its encirclement of the northern half of the city, whilst the 45th Mechanized did the same at the southern end of the city.

The two units allowed their accompanying infantry to enter the suburbs but go no further as both IH and Deltaran artillery pounded mercilessly at the city. Extra ammunition was being brought up at the expense of other units under the pretense that as soon as this vital communications nexus was taken the entire opposition front would collapse. A risky strategy, but the rewards were worth it.

"Fighting within the city of Karakatow broke out this morning, as both Deltaran and IH troops began to attack the city. Reports this morning confirm..."

Karakatow

The ten men in group "G-8" moved along the road originally named "KLEIPAU 2". They were split along either side of the fairly narrowroad, split apart a fair bit. As they approached a household, they crouched down around key entry points.

The doorway was firm, and locked, a clear no-entry. The window was low and weak, only single-glazed. This offered easy access and shock tactics, also allowing fire to enter from the outside. The other option was to mousehole it. The group leader gave the hand command for a window entry, as fire in the distance drowned out quiet speech.

From within the building on the ground floor, all that would have been seen was a butt of a gun swinging up to knock out the pane of glass, quickly followed by two heads and barrells of guns quickly surveying the building for enemy troops. As none were found, one man jumped up onto the window frame and into the room (as the window was situated low down). Moving towards one corner, the next in moved into another to give cross-fire over the room, so that all areas were covered, as the rest of the group moved in from the other side of the road, hopping inside. The first four in secured the lower floor, the rest making a way slowly up the stairway, crouching and aiming downwards. one behind the other on the outside of the stairs.

The stairway consisted of three corners, as it curved up into a first floor hallway. The hallway was empty, so two troops covered the hallway as the others entered and cleared the rooms. Within one bedroom, a family was huddled in the corner, as from the whole house shouts could be heard. Mingled with foreign dialect, the words "GET DOWN! LET ME SEE YOU HANDS!" were heard.

A scream, most probably from a woman was heard. The four troops most probably gave the family the biggest shock of their life, weapons pointing around the room and foreign language being shouted at them. A young child, male, began to cry.

"HANDS UP!" The presumed father of the family had pulled out a pistol, his hand shaking, as it was aimed for Lieutenant Rogers. A burst of fire was heard, and the man slipped down in his place on the floor, blood emerging on his white t-shirt from the two chest wounds, the third bullet missed his head ever so slightly hitting the bedside cabinet behind him. The woman, most probably his wife, began to cry, as his children looked horrified. Rogers used his foot to bring the pistol towards him and kicked it behind him, to be picked up by the other group members.

Rogers talked into his headset, "Hostile confirmed dead. Awaiting instructions," He reported in the squad position. "Houshold clear." The group stood there, waiting for orders.

It was the first civilian death of the attack.

A burst of machine gun fire echoed across the expanse that had formally been one of the main roads into Karakatow. Some of the tracer rounds skipped off the destroyed hulks of military transports that had been destroyed in the bombing of the main transport route.

Now a small advance scouting party from the 2nd Armoured Cavalry Regiment was advancing parallel to the road to establish a blocking position on it. The troop had five M1A2 Abrams Main Battle Tanks and a dozen M3 Bradley Cavalry Scouting Vehicles carrying a reinforced platoon of Mechanized Infantry.

A second burst of machine gun fire bounced off the sloping armour of the leading Infantry Fighting Vehicle and flew up into the sky. In response the turret turned slowly towards the origin of the fire and the 20mm cannon sent five rounds of high explosive shells into the position.

Overhead a UAV watched silently with several of its cameras. It had pin-pointed the position the moment they first fired and then used the IVIS system to relate the data to the leading Armoured Vehicle. The pictures being taken were also being sent to various Divisional and Corps Headquarters to mark progress and gather information about enemy weakspots and other areas of interest. The fifteen other Darkstar UAV's that were up in the air that morning were doing similar as the IH divisions closed the supply lines into the city.

The troops were making good progress, however, one building was too small for a single grouping of men. The weapons warehouse was a potential goldmine, and was heavily guarded. Ten groups, 100 men, had gathered around it, ready to strike.

So far in the battle there had been only 54 Deltaran deaths, which considering the chance of death within a city environment, was exceptional by Supreme Commands standards (although, of course, no deaths is preferable). This was one target that was not picked off by the Royal Artillery, due to the potential explosion that would ensue, and because of its strategic capabilities. It was also the central supply line of ammunitions if they could capture it.

The Detaran tank, of the 1st Mechanized Division, rolled through the wide street, whcih in perspective was only just big enough for it to fit through. It was headed for the factory. Suddenly, a grouping of enemy soldiers stopped at the junction, firing with machine guns in desperate hope of destroying or halting the tank, one grenade bounced off the top of the tank and behind it. It fired two round at the soldiers, blowing them to pieces and collapsing the corned of a building. The tank continued, rolling over the rubble and soldiers, stopping to make the tight turn left. It was lucky the building had fallen, or they would of had to take a long route. The street they turned on to was much wider, able to fit two tanks between the buildings.

The fight for the Plistorov Weapons Factory had begun.