NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: This is pretty much a background story for me, I’m writing on this whenever I feel like I’m bored, and not interested in drawing something. It is of course open to limited international response, but for larger responses I’d like to ask you if you could ask permission via TG or MSN first. For references, you can use my factbook (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=561072) and this map (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b76/VanLuxemburg/Di.png) of the local region + military planning.)

4 Months ago, Ministry of General Affairs, Luxembourg, Van Luxemburg

‘It is getting more serious by the day. Every day, we are losing millions because we are hiring security firms to secure our ships. The Marine is standing by, but can’t do anything against them. We need to make a stand now, I’m asking you.’ The man stood by the table of the Premier, looking straight into his eyes. Several men and women stood behind him, all representing the most important industrial conglomerates in the Grand Duchy.

‘I completely understand, mister Koopmans. But the Arméi and the Marine are not strong enough to take on the full military power of the Dié republic. Our troops are outnumbered at least ten to one, if we count in all Van Luxemburger military units. If we look at the current border strengths, we are looking at one hundred to one ratios, at the very least. Even mobilising the GVT would have no effect. Believe me, I have just received the IVD report on that, we currently have no chance. At all. They believe the current troop strengths in the BI zone are in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions.’ Hirtz responded, now also standing by the table. The two were now on equal terms.

‘You know just as well as me that Dié troops have little to no training and are relying on their massive size to achieve anything of military importance. Their most important military equipment is all on the island itself, not in the BI zone! Besides, they will not have enough supplies to allow military actions longer than one week. I also have my sources!’ Koopmans replied, trying to rise over his opponent.

‘If we take action now, it will mean the greatest loss of life we have ever seen. And not just on the Dié side! By the time Dié troops can be halted, after one week, they could be standing in Arvaglio and Venezia, perhaps even further up north! And don’t think they’ll leave the area without torching everything, robbing and plundering their way through our countryside. You know what armies in distress do, especially when they are in short supply of almost everything. They don’t go on strike like ours would do, but they plunder everything that they can find. The whole Arvaglio countryside will be robbed, up till the moment it is completely empty!’

‘I am still standing by my opinion that we should take action right now! I will leave this report here for you, mister Hirtz, but remember that we will be back. I promise you, we will be back!’ Koopmans turned around immediately, and walked out of the room at an aggressive pace. With him, the top of the Grand Duchy’s economy disappeared through the door.

Dié Sea, 2 months later

The large Roll-On/Roll-of moved slowly, but surely, through the dangerous waters. The Dié Sea was the busiest shipping route under Van Luxemburger management, but was threatened by pirates that came from the republic of Île Saint-Dié. Therefore, ships of the Grand-Ducal Marine often travelled with or close to important commercial vessels, but the problems persisted. Heavily-armed military forces from Dié often raided the ships, sometimes even capturing the complete load and the ship, selling them on to their worldwide network of illegal traders.

On the bridge, two naval officers looked at the horizon, using their binoculars to get distant ships up close. Outside, two lookouts did the same, particularly paying attention to the rear of the ship, knowing that particular direction was popular with Dié pirates. The ‘Koopmans Arctic Merchant’ was one of the largest ‘Large Car & Truck carriers’ in the Koopmans fleet, able to carry a massive 10,000 motor vehicles at a time. Therefore, it was an appealing target to the pirates, especially since it now carried a load of 10,000 Monteluci Ducas, destined for the People’s Socialist Republic of Russkya. The vehicles were worth some $650 million dollars all together, and just a fraction of that would already be a major trophy for the professional pirates. However, the ship had no other options – it had to cross the Dié Sea to get out of the Alzette Sea, where Venezia was located, and Monteluci’s production facilities.

‘Two speedboats, six o’clock, 100 metres!’ one of the lookouts shouted as two polyester boats, moved forward by powerful outboards, approached the ship from the back. They had remained hidden from the crew by moving only marginally faster than their target, and the blue and grey coloured speedboats were already hard to spot.

‘Flank speed ahead! Zig-zag course! Hans and Martin, man the water cannons! And warn the Marine!’ The captain shouted orders all around the bridge, leaving his men to run around in order to make the necessary preparations. Outside, the two Pabst watercannons were manned and readied, in case they had to be used against the attacking pirates.

Meanwhile, in the radio room, a distress call was sent out to all nearby ships. The first ship to reply to the call was indeed a Marine ship, a Venezia-I class corvette that had been converted for littoral warfare, equipped with two CB-90’s instead of a helicopter deck, and especially known for their effectivity against piracy, but only when they were in close range. Despite being around 5 kilometres away, the corvette would deploy it’s combat boats regardless. It had now also transmitted the call to a larger ship, the destroyer ZMS Pieter Cornelisz. It’s reaction was to immediately deploy both of it’s NH-90 helicopters, with the two teams of Maritieme Jagers stationed on the destroyer aboard.

The helicopters followed each other closely, flying low over the water, creating significant rotor downwash on the Dié Sea. At a speed of around 150 knots, the rotorcraft overtook the CB90’s which had been deployed by the Venezia I-class corvette. As the ‘Arctic Merchant’ came into sight, the helicopters slowed down and the side doors were opened to let the troops abseil down onto the ship’s deck. At that moment, radio chatter drastically increased between the involved parties, as one of the helicopters suddenly banked hard to the right and deployed flares.

‘RPG! RPG! Evasive manoeuvres, deploy flares!’

The second helicopter disappeared behind the car-carrying ship, the pilot trying to evade the, probably unguided, missile.

‘Phi flight One, this is Two. We’re going after the boats. Deploy your troops on deck, the RPG’s seem to be unguided.’

The helicopter then appeared again from the ship’s cover, and began approaching the speedboats, which had by now overtook the LCTC and had started preparations for boarding. With the helicopter in their way, the pirates were unable to directly reach the ship without being exposed to gunfire from both the NH-90 and the specialised maritime intervention team aboard the Arctic Merchant, and decided to take down the threats, closest first. That meant that they fired another RPG-7V missile against the NH-90, which was hovering directly in the missile’s flight path. In an impressive, rather swift movement, the helicopter pilot pulled the stick all the way backwards and increased altitude, removing the TTH from the missiles’ path. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was the fact that behind him, the large merchant ship formed an even larger target for the RPG, and with a tremendous explosion, the rocket propelled grenade detonated just above the waterline, followed by a worrying creaking sound coming from the ship. A man-sized hole had been created by the rocket, and with the heavily loaded ship sitting low in the water, it began to take in water rather rapidly.

‘Schäissdreck! Phi Base, this is Phi Two. Alfa Mu has been hit, repeat Alfa Mu has been hit. She’s taking in water and sinking rapidly. Let the boats evacuate all crew aboard the ship, we’re going after the pirates.’

Within seconds, the second NH-90 was already alongside the two speedboats, allowing the starboard gunner to open fire on the pirates from the aft window, using the FN MAG/58 that had been mounted there. However, it was not the only weaponry available to the helicopter crew. After years of experience with counter-piracy actions on the Dié Sea, the Marine Loft Divisioun had opted for putting NH-90 TTH helicopters on board navy ships patrolling the area, together with a small team of maritime security experts, the Maritieme Jagers. The TTH helicopters were modified with two FN MAGs, mounted on the aft windows, and an M134 gatling-style machinegun on the rear loading ramp. However, this was almost never used, and the 70mm unguided rockets, stored in pods in a position where normally the missiles for the NFH-type would be located, were preferred.

The same principle was applied this time. The FN MAG’s were relatively inefficient against the fast-moving speedboats, despite the NH-90 keeping up with it. Therefore, the pilot decided it was best to fall back and use his Thales helmet-mounted display to locate the speedboats himself, and unleash the power of the unguided rockets. A loud whoosh indicated that several rockets were fired, and subsequently exploded all around one of the speedboats, with one of them being a direct hit on the outboard engines, leading to a sea of fire covering the boat as its fuel ignited, burning down the ship and its crew. The other speed boat had meanwhile made a hard portside turn, running away from his colleague, who was now engulfed with flames. The tactics as used with the first speedboat were repeated, the helicopter closed up from the back of the ship, and then fired the remaining unguided rockets. The first rocket to impact exploded directly right of the boat, meaning it flipped over due to the force of the water column rising. The remaining rockets finished the job, blowing large hole in the underside of the watercraft, now lying upside down in the water. A quick flyby revealed no survivors, and even if the pilot or any of the passengers had seen lucky occupants, they would be smart enough to not report that to the authorities investigating the incident. It was common practice under intervention teams to leave any survivors in the water, giving them no chance to survive any longer. During most interventions, no enemy survivors were reported, and even while the Marechaussee knew that as a fact, it could do little against these practices, as they had no proof.

Returning to the ‘Koopmans Arctic Merchant’, the helicopter crew could see that the ship was heavily damaged. The gap created by the RPG had only become larger due to the water rushing in, and there was probably no chance the ship could be salvaged, as it became heavier on one side and the cars aboard would begin to move despite their anchorings, only adding to the capsizing effect. As the helicopter reached the ship, the CB90’s were already taking the crew of the merchant ship aboard, along with their personal belongings. In the distance, a seagoing tug from Campolongo approached, probably to start an attempt to pull the Koopmans Arctic Merchant out of the sealane and towards the port.

2 days later, Ministry of General Affairs

‘This is an outrage! AN ABSOLUTE OUTRAGE!’ the man cried out, once again standing at the table of the Van Luxemburger premier. However, he was now accompanied by a two-person delegation from VLT, enforcing his complaints.

‘We lost $650 million worth of cars there. And not just that, but also a ship worth millions of dollars. We asked you two months ago. We are asking you now. The government must crack down on these bastards. If not, we will have to.’

‘Miss Becker, I hope you realise there is no chance that our industry can take action against a complete nation, leave alone one as united by war as the Île. The whole Grand Duchy will have problems with it.’ Hirtz replied, still relatively calm and seated behind his desk in a comfortable office chair.

‘You know damn well that we can, Hirtz. We will just hire our usual private military contractor, and take out the required targets. But this is not our responsibility. It is that of the government.’ Kristin had now taken to the forefront, and actively engaged into a discussion with Hirtz.

‘All of us, here in this room, also know that Laval Military Solutions is not a PMC. We all know it is an institution funded by you and the Grand Duke!’ Hirtz answered, rising from his chair.

‘And what does that add to your point? We will utilise whatever we will need to take out the shipping threat, and if you do not support us with military action, we will have to take some economic decisions. Did you know we can put a huge strain on your economy by letting our personnel go on strike? We know damn well we can, and we will use it if necessary to finally open your eyes, mister Nicolas!’ Becker had raised her voice, to incite fear into the Premier.

‘I will have to discuss this with the Ministries of Defence and Foreign Affairs. And with the Grand Duke.’ The Premier sat down, sighing because of his loss in this discussion. He knew there was no point in resisting the action, if VLT started threatening with going on strike.

‘The Grand Duke has approved it. Defence already has the plans ready. Foreign Affairs the press release. There is no point in slowing this down. Everything you cannot do for us, we will do ourselves. Learn from this event, Nicolas. Learn from it.’ After having dropped the relevant paperwork on the Premiers’ desk, she walked out the door, following her colleagues.

Chen Law saw the video on PiracyReport.com. A car freighter was shot up in the Dié Sea, and ended up sinking due to severe water loss. It was sickening footage - how could they! How dare those pirates attack! How dare they be allowed to go and sink a ship that had done them no harm!

At least Van Luxemburg knew what to do to pirates. Now, if only the Confederacy could learn...

Several days later, Graaf Beekmankazerne, Klein-Zwitserland, Sint-Annabeek.

His sight drifted away from the ceiling, looking around the room. Everyone was still asleep, probably. Not unlogical after the 10 kilometre march of yesterday evening, followed by combat night training. Despite this, Johan Hoekstra, Kaprol Éischte Klass with the 25th Regiment ‘Limburgse Jagers’, did not sleep as well as his mates, who were all in deep rest. He had found out that there was something going on. Combat simulation exercises had been stepped up, and another training against Dié tactics had been rehearsed with the local GVT, and he had heard Leitnant De Vries talk about the readiness level of the regiment, and about pending redeployment. It could have something to do with the building tensions on the border with the dictatorial Republic in the south: rumour had it that the Arméi would start a full-blown assault into their territory to retaliate for the loss of Van Luxemburger shipping. It would be connected to a raid on Dié ports by the Marine, to effectively destroy their ability to strike into the Grand Duchy’s economic lifeline.

Suddenly, the alarm bells inside the barracks began ringing, waking up every soldier around. The ubiquitous cursing already indicated the men and women weren’t happy with the sound, but still rose from their beds and rapidly readied themselves to report outside. There, the local mechanised battalion would be ready for their orders, regardless of the nature of them.

Kaprol Hoekstra was one of the first soldiers to report outside and line up. He was the second in command of his Grupp, allowing him to stand one step behind Serjant Van Valkenberg. As the rest of the Grupp formed up, next to rows of other troops, the Leitnant-Kolonel in command of the mechanised battalion also paced outside, and took up his position in front of the men and women that were under his command. He had nothing that even remotely looked like a microphone, so he would have to improvise. In fact, it seemed that all of this was improvised.

‘Dames en Heren Limburgse Jagers. Vandaag hebben wij een nieuwe missie gekregen, waarbij onze troepen zich gaan verplaatsen naar de regio Arvaglio. Wij zullen ons daar klaar houden voor toekomstige militaire acties tegen de Zuidelijke Republiek. Uw voertuigen staan klaar om nul-achthonderd uur op deze plaats. Hiervandaan zal de Marechaussee ons over de weg escorteren naar onze tijdelijke basis bij de Baia Veneto. Ingerukt.’

(Ladies and Gentlemen Limburgse Jagers. Today we have received a new mission, in which our troops will move to the region Arvaglio. We will be standing by there for future military actions against the Southern Republic. Your vehicles will be ready at oh-eight hundred hours on this position. From here the Marechaussee will escort us to our temporary base by the Baia Veneto. Dismissed.)

In one movement, the troops turned and walked back to their barracks, where they would get their equipment together, and then drive the vehicles to their required position.

Only several hours later, the troops had returned to the open place, this time complete with all their equipment, which was now being loaded on the massive amount of trucks that had been brought in for this move. The heaviest of vehicles, and all tracked equipment, had been secured on specialised lowloader trailers, while the wheeled vehicles would just join the column using their own propulsion. The infantry and crewmembers of the tracked equipment would then be transported by buses, that would be the first to leave.

Carrying two heavy bags, one full of his equipment and the other stuffed with his personal belongings, the Kaporal walked over to his designated bus, Bus no. 2 of Bravo Mechcie, 225th Karabinéier battalion. As he handed his bag with military gear to the soldier standing by the bus’ cargo space, then taking his own personal belongings with him into the bus, storing the large bag above his head. His personal rifle was then handed to his commanding officer, who would hand it over to the logistics troops responsible for small arms transport.

As he stepped into the bus, it was clear to see that none of the troops were really worried about what was coming. Most of them were way too busy reading various magazines, with topics appealing to soldiers, and Van Luxemburger soldiers at that: Erotic magazines and creations of the domestic automobile press were by far the most popular. For some people, those two were exactly the same, but that would’ve been besides the point.

As Hoekstra found his seat, the bus was quick to leave the base. Escorted by the Marechaussee cars that had been waiting outside the base, the column left the base, and embarked on the largest road trip the regiment had ever undertaken in it’s recent history.

The column largely made use of the secondary Autobahns, the B-routes. There, it could safely traverse the continent without hindering civilian traffic too much, but it lead to major traffic jams regardless. Despite the Marechaussee being assisted by local police units and even the Autobahnpolizei diverting units to assist and guide traffic away from the columns, many civilians had to wait before they could continue their journey as kilometre upon kilometre, the military column headed southwards, and joined up with columns from other military bases, making it a large, camouflaged snake moving through the low valleys of San Giustra. Kaporal Hoekstra was captivated by this sight, and looked at it for some minutes, before turning back to his laptop. A quick look on the weather reports for the local area learned him that it was a comfortable 23 degrees Celsius outside, not bad for a day in late May. Temperatures in northern San Giustra usually reached some 28 degrees Celsius on average in mid-summer. He then switched to his word processor programme again, and read what he had typed so far.

Mam en Pap,

Sorry dat deze brief nogal onverwacht zal zijn, maar ik zit momenteel in de bus richting het zuiden. Ons Regiment gaat op vakantie, zo zou je kunnen stellen, en eigenlijk had ik dit jullie al een beetje verteld tijdens mijn laatste verlof. We hadden verder geen tijd meer om te bellen, en dus schrijf ik jullie dit mailtje. Ik denk dat ik vooral zal mailen; als we in Dié zitten schijnt er geen ontvangst te zijn voor mobiele telefoons.

We zullen in een kamp in de buurt van de Baia Veneto zitten, zo heb ik begrepen. Als er al wat gebeurd, dan zullen we Dié binnenvallen en meteen doorstoten naar de Barrage Perretoise, of hoe die republikeinen het tegenwoordig ook mogen noemen. Met onze training en uitrusting zal dat absoluut geen probleem zijn: volgens de Serjant zullen ze nooit weten wat er gebeurd is. Dit varkentje hebben we zo gewassen, als ik hem mag geloven.

De komende tijd zit ik dus op een ander adres. Je kunt de post voor mij gewoon nog wel naar de kazerne sturen; daar sturen ze het wel door voor me. Rechtstreeks zal niet lukken, want onze locatie is geheim.

Maak jullie maar niet ongerust; als wij in actie moeten komen zullen de doden niet aan onze kant vallen, en onze training is ver superieur aan dat van de republikeinen. Ik ben snel weer thuis.

Liefs,
Johan
(Mom and Dad,

I’m sorry for this letter to arrive unsuspected, but I’m currently in a bus towards the south. Our regiment is going for a holiday, so to say, and I actually told you about it during my last leave. We had no time to make a phone call, so I’m writing you this E-mail. I’m thinking that I’ll primarily be using E-mail to keep you updated, as I’ve heard there’s no mobile phone network coverage in Dié.

We’ll be in a camp near the Baia Veneto, I understand. Even if something happens, we will be invading Dié and immediately push on to the Barrage Perretoise, or whatever those republicans call it these days. With our training and equipment that should be no problem whatsoever; according to the Serjant, they’ll never know what hit them. We’ll have this fixed in a moment, if I have to believe him.

So in the coming while, I’m on another address. You can send my mail to the barracks regardless, they’ll pass it on from there. You can’t send your mail directly to me, as our location is secret.

Don’t worry, if we have to come into action, the dead won’t be on our side, and our training is far superior to that of the Republicans. I’ll be home soon.

Love,
Johan)

As he clicked the ‘send’ button, he looked up. The landscape had changed marginally, and he could see the Alzettemier in the distance. At that moment, he put his laptop away and reclined his seat, which caused some cursing from the row of seats to the back, as his rear neighbour was sandwiched between Johan’s and his own seat. Lifting the seat somewhat, a somewhat irritated ‘thank you’ came from the back. Johan did not hear this, as he had spontaneously fallen asleep in his seat, thanks to the little sleep he had in the past 24 hours.

Later that day

As the day progressed, roads to the south clogged up with military vehicles coming from every single military base in the Grand Duchy, and Autobahnpolizei units had even made the decision to close the A2 and A6 Autobahns completely, and guided civilian traffic over the B-roads and even regional roads. This situation could not be turned around, as the heavy military vehicles required strengthened roads, and the underlaying roads could not take the constant pounding of thousands of wheels, each pressing down several metric tons on the road surface.
In the media, messages began to appear about the unusual sight, a thing which could not be prevented thanks to the massive amount of military vehicles underway.

RTVL Traffic service

‘It is Friday, the 25th of May 2009. This is the RTVL Traffic service, with all actual traffic reports in the Grand Duchy. We ask you to pay extra attention on the roads today, as the Arméi is moving troops and equipment. Wait until the military column has passed, and do not break the column. In the light of these troop movements, we also warn Autobahn drivers that the southern sections of the motorways A2 and A6 are blocked between Kreuz San Giustra and Exit Rosny-sous-Bois and Exit Unterrüti and exit Montfermeil respectively. The Autobahnpolizei will guide you onto the underlaying road network locally. Next to this, the Autobahns A205 and A206 have been blocked completely, and all transit routes into Dié are closed until further notice. A ferry service between Choisy-le-Roi and Villachiara, as well as between Fleury and Nonantola, has been designated as the only valid replacement.

The traffic jams, further… 8 kilometres of Stau on the A8, between Cerrione-Est and Cerrione-Nord. This is because of……’

At around the same moment, a message from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was released to the world, updating any and all nations about the situation in Van Luxemburg.

Short Press Release, Ministry of Foreign Affairs

25-05-’09, LUXEMBOURG – The Grand Duchy of Van Luxemburg is moving large numbers of troops south in a response to the sinking of the MV Koopmans Arrctic Merchant. The troops will be used to increase the military strength in the area following increased tensions. The troops will solely be used to provide extra security around the enclave of the Dié Republic.

We would like to request all foreign citizens to leave the region around the enclave immediately. The area is from now on a restricted military area, including the Autobahnen A2, A6, A205 and A206. If necessary, foreign citizens can contact local authorities to be relocated to other hotels in the Grand Duchy.

The Grand Duchy once again wishes to consolidate that we have no intention to cause a loss of life in the area, not Van Luxemburger, nor Dié, nor will it hurt any foreign entities.

However, at the same time, a second memo was sent within the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and to all allies that the Grand Duchy held dear. The message was heavily encrypted, and would only be broadcasted to Van Luxemburgs’ embassies in these allied nations, from where the memo would be delivered to the appropriate government authority of that nation.

Internal Memo. Confidential.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Defence of the Grand Duchy of Van Luxemburg, emergency message to allied nations.

The previous press release was only aimed for a general public. Please handle this message carefully, and make sure that all that have laid eyes on this message are properly briefed.

The Grand Duchy of Van Luxemburg is currently planning military action against the Republic of Île Saint-Dié, in retaliation of the sinking of the MV Koopmans Arctic Merchant, and following other recent acts of piracy in the Dié sea, primarily against Van Luxemburger shipping. Next to this, the Republic is thought to be involved in illegal trade of narcotics in the Grand Duchy.

Other grounds for justifying this invasion is illegally holding Van Luxemburger citizens in custody, as well as oppressing a Van Luxemburger minority in the ‘Bouteille Isolante’ enclave. Officially, this enclave is in possession of the Grand Duchy and will be recaptured during military action. Next to this, we hope to strike in the heart of the Dié economy by destroying all Dié ships and boats that enter the Dié sea. Of course, assistance would be desired, even though this will remain an internal conflict, and can be solved by the Van Luxemburger Armed Forces alone.

If any questions arise after reading this message, please contact the IVD officer at your local embassy. PLEASE DESTROY THIS MESSAGE AFTER READING.

[OOC: Why yes, this has been cleared with VL. Thank you for asking.]
Berisak, Central Oblast, People's Socialist Republic of Russkya.
19h30 Local Time, 28-05-09

With one ankle crossing his knee, Berko watched a bluebird hop from its nest to a branch. The bird stared at him for a moment, having learned long ago that humans in the courtyard of this building were particularly friendly with breadcrumbs, almost always found in small brown paper bags. As Vasily Andreyevich did not have a brown paper bag behind the interlaced fingers of his hands, the bird's impassive gaze moved on to survey the grass of the courtyard, slowly beginning to revive itself after the long cold of the winter months.

Berko, Vasily Andreyevich, was at that moment contemplating his options. $650 million universal standard dollars was no small amount of money despite the wonderful state of the Russkyan economy. It was no small sum for anyone, except perhaps the American government or others like them, who seemed to piss away that many funds in the blink of an eye. And while all possible responses to the problem the Dié would only cost more money, some would provide permanent solutions while others were simply a stopgap. A stopgap that would all too likely be kicked down again, unless the operations against Dié were a complete success. To ensure the success of those operations, Berko could take advantage of the diplomatic, military, and economic relationship built up with Van Luxemburg over the years by deploying a number of assets to the nation, to participate in the upcoming invasion and subjugation of the Bouteille Isolante. The Luxemburgers would probably rather think of it as a liberation, and Berko was inclined to agree with that mindset: Dié had done nothing for Russkya aside from cost them $650 million and weaken the defensive stance of the nation by denying them the latest shipment of Duca E and Duca VIP automobiles that had been part of that shipment.

Unfortunately for Dié, the Russkyan mindset was that such minutiae could contribute significantly to the overall defence and integrity of the People's Socialist Republic, and such threats to the integrity of said nation were not taken lightly by those who inhabited or governed Russkya.

14.5 kilometers above sea level, enroute from RVVS Airfield 11-3 to Rendezvous Milchkuh
00h33 Local Time 30-05-09

"Try not to get it in the wrong hole, lover." Night aerial refuellings were not particularly safe, and as a result the stress levels of the highly professional RVVS airmen flying the Tupolev-designed aircraft were higher than the benign atmosphere inside the aircraft suggested. Their devoutly Orthodox pilot only gave in to his military heritage and began making smartassed comments and sexual innuendo when his stress levels had taken off like a ICBM.

His copilot looked across her shoulder at her aircraft commander and then behind her, down the aisle towards the other aircraft crewmen. "Isn't that normally my line? What did I miss? Khozyin, do you have something you want to tell me?" Barantsev - Khozyin to his crew - directed the one finger salute in her general direction without taking his eyes off the illuminated refuelling probe slidiing through the slipstream. Once contact had been made, he turned to his copilot, Major Bielskova.

"Get on the radio. Tsar, link the radio to the intercom for a minute. The kid they've got on the boom sounds like he's nineteen, pimples, lost his virginity to a hooker. It'll be great." Devout Orthodox or not, Barantsev was still a Russkyan pilot and thus given to all things depraved, socially unacceptable, and asshole-ish, though in his case it was only when he was stressed. For instance, at this moment.
"Tsar," also known as Flight Lieutenant Romanov, did as he was told. Bielskova lowered her voice as if she wore a negligee and not a camouflaged flightsuit, leaning forward in her seat as if to show off her cleavage through the cockpit windows. A hard task, given that said cleavage was concealed under a sweater, an Aequatian "BeneathArmour" fitted tee shirt, and a fully zipped flightsuit, but she gave it her all. "Oh, darling. Unloading so soon? I was just getting excited."

Commencing the landing stroke on an airfield not far from Dié
10h42 Local Time 30-05-09

The last time RVVS aircraft had touched down on a Luxemburger airfield, they had done so in a tight formation to impress the onlooking airfield staff. They did no such thing this time, the large Tupolevs requiring all of the available runway space and crew fatigue simply prohibiting such a display. Once down, Antonov-designed heavy lifting aircraft began arriving on the hour every hour for the next half day, delivering spare parts, additional fuel, munitions, ground crews, and the Wing Mascot; a L7 luxury saloon, outfitted with the GT 6.3 V12. Like many of the KAB type bombs delivered to the airfield, the F-segment saloon carried a single message. "Ach. Mein Autos."

7 o’clock, 26th of May, 2009, Lambda Iota Forward Operating Base, 25th Regiment Limburgse Jagers

‘Goedemorgen, Jagers. Vandaag zullen wij voorbereidingen treffen voor actie. Wapens worden schoongemaakt, elk klein onderdeeltje ervan, jullie zullen scherpe munitie uitgedeeld krijgen, en men camoufleert de uniformen, helmen en voertuigen volgens het boekje. Materiaal, echt en namaak, zal aan jullie worden uitgereikt. Jullie hebben tot 3 uur vanmiddag de tijd, dan hebben we briefing. Ingerukt.’

Goodmorning Jagers. Today we will prepare for action. Weapons will be cleaned, every small part of it, you will receive live munitions, and you will camouflage your uniforms, helmets and vehicles according to the guidelines. Materials, both real and artificial, will be handed out. You have till 3 o’clock in the afternoon, then you will receive your briefing. Dismissed.

The Leitnant-Kolonel returned back to his tent, as the other soldiers all went to work. First, it would be time to clean their rifles and load live ammunition into the magazines, which would take roughly an hour or three. A short break, and then on to camouflaging work. Applying natural materials to vehicles, and lifelike artificial alike, was usual in the Arméi: camouflage nets were used as a base for both vehicles and helmets, and all kinds of local flora was used to conceal the vehicles from sight. Apparently, a briefing at 3 o’clock. Something was coming.

But first, they’d have to get through cleaning their rifles. As he sat down with his colleagues next to one of the Monteluci Corazzieres that were part of his peloton. Firstly, he carefully took of the Kfg-09 optic and quickly checked if it was OK. Putting the part down next to him on a soft cloth, he continued taking the FAM-87 apart. It took him two minutes, well longer than his current record, but he wasn’t looking for a quick disassembly. Instead, he put all of the parts in the right order, and cleaned and oiled them one by one. It was a tedious job, but it had to be done, and it was not too bad as the group sat together in the shade created by the IFV. As always when in a group with young people, the conversation had quickly turned into a discussion on sexual themes, a thing in which even the Serjant and Kaporal Hoekstra participated.

Some hour later though, the troops would have to take part in something more demanding. Not only their vehicles’ armament had to be cleaned, but also the entire vehicle itself. The new RWS system on the 15.5mm Monteluci Corazziere was especially complex, as the weapon had to be removed from the automated system and disassembled, but also the RWS itself had to be disassembled as the moving parts had to be checked and oiled. This was mostly done by regular soldiers, even though auxiliary personnel was there to instruct the troops in the field on how to do it; the system was new, that’s why.

Next to that, the 30mm main gun of the Corazziere with GAI turrets had to be cleaned, along with the other large guns in the platoon, such as the powerful 125mm main guns of the PzW Draachs, a thing which occupied several auxiliary troops as well. However, the job was done reasonably quickly, so the platoon could move on with camouflaging themselves and their vehicles. It was a thing that Johan particularly liked, as it required a certain amount of creativity to be able to arrange the branches and leaves just right, so that it would look natural. The vehicles had already been repainted for this matter in the Van Luxemburger standard Southern Camouflage, and infantry members received their own uniforms in the same camouflage pattern. They would only have to add vegetation to their helmets, as leaves and branches anywhere else would limit the soldiers’ movement. They were also unable to camouflage their helmets too excessive, as they still would have to fit into their vehicles, especially the somewhat more cramped TP-08 and SPW-08, regardless of these not being in use with their battalion.

At 3 o’clock, the whole regiment would be welcomed on the central open place, between the various semi-permanent buildings and tents of the troops. It was hot, some 30 degrees Celsius in the open, the sounds of various birds and buzzing insects made it even more unbearable. Sweat dripped off Hoekstra’s face; He wasn’t used to this heat on a daily basis, coming from one of the more northern areas of the Grand Duchy. As he took a quick look around, he saw that none of the regiments’ troops were used to it. After the work in the past few hours, most were clothed in just their uniform trousers, leaving their upper body exposed in order to ventilate.

Unsurprisingly, one of the few soldiers that still wore his full uniform was the Leitnant-Kolonel, also wearing his full webbing equipment, and service sidearm. The only things missing were his rifle and helmet, hardly needed during regular duty. As he emerged from his tent, the complete regiment saluted, but this was toned down by the Leitnant-Kolonel himself.

‘Dames en Heren. Wederom welkom. Over pakweg 15 uur zullen wij onze motoren starten om actie te gaan ondernemen in de Bouteille Isolante. Op het moment luiden onze orders als volgt, en ik citeer:’

(Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome again. In around 15 hours we will start our engines to take action in the Bouteille Isolante. At this moment, our orders are as follows, and I cite: )


The officer now read from an official-looking paper, which seemed rather short. Hoekstra concluded it could well be a telegram.

‘Wij zullen om 6 uur morgenochtend een van de eerste eenheden zijn om de grens over te trekken. We hebben vrijstelling om op alles wat militair lijkt te schieten, en we zullen luchtsteun hebben van de ALD en de MLD, dus die kunnen we altijd inroepen in het geval er iets fout gaat. We zullen eerst richting het plaatsje La Varenne trekken, dwars door het landschap; er is immers geen weg vanaf de grens. Als we die plaats veilig hebben en de communicatiemiddelen aldaar veilig gesteld hebben, kunnen we doorstoten naar de Barrage Perretoise, om daar de stuwdam in te nemen, en zo de stroom af te sluiten. Als het goed is zijn andere regimenten van de andere kant ons al voor geweest, en sluiten we daar het front af. Mocht het nodig zijn trekken we daarvandaan verder naar andere conflicthaarden, ervan uitgaande dat de oorlog dan nog niet afgelopen is. Dit wordt jullie ‘Finest Hour’, om het zo maar even uit te drukken. Volgens IVD-rapporten zullen we tegenover een leger vechten dat vooral uit dienstplichtigen bestaat. Ze zullen vooral bewapend zijn met Joegoslavische Kalashnikov-klonen, ondersteund door een aantal militaire voertuigen, en een handjevol vliegtuigen vanaf Port Transperret’s vliegveld. We verwachten weinig tegenstand van de lokale bevolking, vooral de Van Luxemburgse minderheid die ons nog van vroeger kent. Als we al tegenstand zien dan zullen dat de eerder genoemde AK-hordes zijn. Dat was alles. Jullie kunnen nu rusten, en morgenochtend om 6 uur zullen wij onze acties beginnen. Veel geluk.’

We will be one of the first units to cross the border, at 6 o’clock tomorrow morning. We are cleared to shoot at anything what looks military, and we will have air support from the ALD and MLD, so we can call them in in case something goes wrong. We will first advance in the direction of the town of La Varenne, across the landscape; There is no road from the border, after all. If the town is safe and we control the communication equipment there, we can move on to the Barrage Perretoise, to take the dam and cut the electricity. If everything goes according to plan, other regiments coming from the other side beat us to the dam, and we can lock down the front from there. If it is necessary we will advance from there to other areas of conflict, assuming the war has not ended by then. This will be your finest hour, so to say. According to IVD-reports we will fight an army that will consist primarily of conscripts. They will be armed with Yugoslavian Kalashnikov-clones, supported by a number of military vehicles and a handful of aircraft from Port Transperret’s airfield. We are expecting little resistance from the local population, especially the Van Luxemburger minority that will know us from earlier times. If we ever see opposition, it will come from the aforementioned AK-hordes. That should be all. You can rest now, and tomorrow morning at 6 o’clock, we will start our actions. Good luck.

The Leitnant-Kolonel saluted once again, and then turned on his heels, before walking back to his tent in a very stiff fashion, the telegram clamped tightly under his arm. Two Marechaussees took up their Beretta PM12S SMG’s again, and crossed them across their stomach before taking up a guarding position in front of the staff tent. The troops immediately returned back to their tents and vehicles, to rest, sleep and generally relax, until they could take action.

Gilberto Monteluci International Airport, Military Section, Venezia.

The international airport, named after one of the, now deceased, prime natives of the city that was especially rich in water, was bustling with activity as always, but not just the civilian section. On the military section, 801 Squadron of the Van Luxemburger Arméi Loft Divisioun was preparing their aircraft, the enormous Handley-Page Victor bombers standing out in the open, displaying the last dinosaurs of the Cold War to the outside world.

However, this was not the thing that attracted the most aircraft spotters at this time of day. The various cars on designated spots in vicinity of the runway, parked just off the airbase, carried hundreds of spotters that were out to see the Russkyan aircraft that would arrive over the course of the day, allowing the Victors to line up with their Russian counterparts, Tupolev-designed ‘Blackjack’ bombers. Many of these spotters were waiting for the moment two of these giants would appear on their cameras, the former enemies standing together like friends.

Even though the enthusiasts stood behind 3-metre high fences, with barbed wire preventing them from climbing over, the Marechaussee guarding the airbase found it necessary to deploy several of their vehicles to the fence in order to maintain security. This resulted in Marechaussee troops and their Monteluci M6 and Duca patrol vehicles partly obstructing the view of the spotters, much to their dislike, as one of the RVVS Tupolevs indeed taxied next to one of the Victors of the ALD.

The spotters, however, had not expected to see more than just Blackjacks and Victors. Some hour later than the first Tu-160 had touched down, and inbetween the Antonov freighters of the Russkyan military, a Monteluci Condor made a swift landing, followed by a second airplane of the same type. As the aircraft had recently entered service with both the ALD and MLD, not much spotters were familiar with it, and most were unable to tell the difference between the first Condor-B, a transport aircraft, and the second Condor-D, a tanker modified from the B-version.

However, on the airbase itself, the arrival of these aircraft was not really a surprise. The Condor-D would support all military aircraft around Venezia with refuelling operations, so they would not have to return to base or land at Gilberto Monteluci for refuelling operations. The Condor-B was however carrying a highly explosive load, flying in an urgent order destined for the ALD bombers stationed on the airport. From now on, it would do so every day, as the bombs, temporarily being built by Courtemanche in Rosny-sous-Bois, were too far away to be brought in by road or train.

There was however little attention for the rather new Condors, as most of the ground crew were observing the other new arrivals, curious about the aircraft they had so far only seen in their recognition manuals. One of the Victor pilots spearheaded a group of ALD personnel towards one of the Tu-160s, and continued on to greet it’s crew. Seeing he had heard some rumours from a colleague that flew Tifone fighters from St. Jakob, Russkyans often spoke German, and he decided he could try to approach them with just that.

‘Gutentag, wilkommen im Grossherzogtum Van Luxemburg. Mein name ist Osvaldo Marchesi, Victor-flieger beim 801-Squadron. Das dort ist mein Ground-crew. Ich möchte dir gern erzählen das wir deine Tupolew-Bomber nur vom recognition manual kennen. Sieht doch gut aus, besser als unsere alte Damen. Der Victors fliegen noch, aber für wie lange? Bis das maximale Anzahl flight hours, denke ich, weil die Politik hat gesagt dass wir kein Ersatz beschaffen würden. Schade, ich möchte gern deiner Tupolews auch in ALD Dienst sehen, beim 801 Squadron. Na ja, kommt mit zu unserem Mess.’

(Good day, welcome in the Grand Duchy of Van Luxemburg. My name is Osvaldo Marchesi, Victor-pilot with 801-Squadron. That there is my ground crew. I would like to tell you that I know your Tupolev-bombers solely from my recognition manual. Looks good, better than our old ladies. Our Victors are still flying, but for how long? Till the maximum amount of flight hours, I think, because the politics said that we will not buy a replacement. It’s a shame, I really would’ve liked to see those Tupolevs in ALD service, with 801 Squadron. Anyways, come with me to our mess.)

The pilot gestured as if the Russkyan crewmembers had to follow him, towards a two-story limestone building which had been decorated with a single national flag and the squadron insignia by the door. Looking at the architecture, the building was probably constructed just before the second World War, and had been the mess building for many years. Nevertheless, it was well-maintained and looked rather attractive, especially considering it was a construction originally designed for military purposes in a time of crisis and war.

Gilberto Monteluci International Airport, Military Section, Venezia.
11h50 Local Time 30-05-09

Institutionally the Russkyan nation was still coming to grips with having such a nation as Van Luxemburg as an ally, and as a result of this the demographics which spoke languages common to Luxemburg were small. This was in stark contrast to the vast numbers of bilingual or even trilingual Russkyans who could get by - or were even fluent in - Russian or any number of other Slavic languages, English, or regional languages such as Kilrany or more rarely, Brabander.

The flight officer receiving the pilot's invitation to the mess smiled and nodded, picking up certain words in the rapid flow of German and wishing he'd listened to his mother and paid more attention in that class. Most prominently, "Tupolev", "Politics," and most importantly: "Mess." He tried a few half-remembered words in German and gave up, hoping that Marchesi would later be filled in by one of the aircrew who did speak German or some other mutual language.

"Zu befehl, neues Kamerad. Ich haette gern ein großes bier, und ziele. Wo ist Dié ziele?"

475km from the Russkyan mainland, BGS-33
07h35 Russkyan Central Standard Time 30-05-09

Kovalenko was a young man. He looked younger, now that his prematurely grey hair had been shaved off, and he found the warmth of his woolen watchcap much more noticeable now that it was pulled snug over his shaven scalp. He scanned his sector, radio handset strapped to the epaulette of his thick peacoat, binoculars pressed to his eyes.

Each of the BGS vessels - literally "Fast Freighter" - was heavily loaded with KAB and FAB type bombs of various weights. They flew under the Russkyan Merchant Navy ensign, escorted by a force of destroyers. For some inexplicable reason international piracy had been on the rise, and as they were headed towards a nation with a piratical neighbour just off their coast the Russkyan Air Force took the appropriate precautions with the high explosives needed to give purpose to the presence of the 20th Strategic Bomber Wing - flying in bombs was about as useful as digging a trench with a spoon. It was much better to ship them in vast quantities via sea, as the twenty vessels of Convoy RVL-32 now demonstrated, moving at a spritely twenty-three knots. If Kovalenko spotted something suspicious, he was to report immediately via radio to the Watch Officer of the BGS-33, who would report to the Síanach-class DDGN commanding the escort force. Appropriate action would then be taken.

None of the BGS-series vessels would suffer the fate of the Arctic Merchant. Amusingly, Koopman's had already offered to ship the Russkyan ordance - for free - across the majority of Van Luxemburg to the appropriate airbase. Kovalenko, a senior Petty Officer, was aware of this because it was just too humorous not to have escaped the attention of the crews. The marketing value of that in certain nations would be tremendous. "Insured by KAB-1500; they wreck it, we wreck them."

La Varenne, Dié, May 26, 2009

The Toyota Landcruiser 70 series ploughed through the open field, its 3B 98 horsepower Diesel engine putting out a fearsome sound. The pickup truck was crewed by a number of military occupants, most of them carrying Zastava M70 Kalashnikov-clones. The passengers were shook around badly by the Landcruiser, a vehicle probably captured by piracy some twenty years ago. It was not in the best condition, and the Dié troops made it no secret that this was a military vehicle: the camouflage paint had been repainted several times to make absolutely sure it would hold, and a small Republican flag moved with the wind. Furthermore, the Yellow-and-Blue markings on the doors of the pickup proved the military use of this vehicle once more.

Suddenly, the Toyota halted, and the occupants jumped out, using the sides of the pickup to hold on while consolidating their feet on these sides, picking up their rifles and then making the last leap towards the ground. From the passenger seat of the pickup, a man exited the vehicle but left the door open, thinking this would protect him somewhat. The man, clothed in somewhat different fatigues than the other troops, and wore a military-grade cap instead of the East-German TRW-142 steel helmets of the other soldiers. Unlike his soldiers, who were clothed in ex-Yugoslavian MOL camouflage pattern uniforms, he was camouflaged with the early DDR-standard Flächentarnmuster pattern, a uniform only handed out to higher-ranked officers.

From a camouflaged bag, he took his Carl Zeiss DF7x40 binoculars to take a look ahead. He carefully surveyed the landscape ahead of him, roughly observing the patrol roads of the Van Luxemburger Arméi, just on the other side of the fence. There, he saw the usual activity – Marechaussee 4x4’s and armoured cars patrolling the border area, their occupants sometimes patrolling areas by foot to check the condition of the fence. There was nothing suspicious to be seen, as the Marechaussees were simply doing their daily tasks. The FAM-87c assault rifles hanging over their shoulders, sometimes using their Russkyan-designed Kfg-09 weapon sights or the standard-issue domestically-produced Vetterli binoculars to look back at the Dié troops, of which they knew they were observing their movements.

But then, the officer saw a short flash of light somewhere near the edge of his line of sight, and immediately pointed the East-German field glasses into that particular direction. In a somewhat open area of the border zone, a wheeled APC he could not readily identify had been parked next to the fence, and several soldiers around it were seemingly busy working on the fence. They carried cutting equipment, most notably a man carrying a cutting torch working on cutting down parts of the fence. The Dié officer quickly checked his watch to verify it was too late for military engineers to perform work on the fence. It was around 8 o’clock in the evening, while most engineers in the Arméi were off before dinner, at 6 o’clock. As he wondered why the engineers would be doing these repairs just now, he was warned by one of his subordinates, that he could see an approaching helicopter. The soldier was indeed right, as the officer saw an approaching BK117 helicopter of the Van Luxemburger 25th regiment flying right above the border, patrolling the site where the engineers were working.

‘Assurez-vous ce rapport atteint Chateauneuf : augmentation de l'activité militaire, danger d’un invasion réel’.

Make sure that this report arrives in Chateauneuf : Increased military activity, real danger of invasion.

The officer then turned around, and got back into his jeep. As the other troops all boarded the Toyota 4x4 again, the driver had to try several times in order to start the diesel engine again, thanks to the way it had been maintained over the years, mainly because no original parts had been available to the Republic. As the local garrison commander drove back to the town, he realised it would probably be useful to ask for a new vehicle soon. He had heard that his troops had recently confiscated a Van Luxemburger car, apparently a recently built VLT. Perhaps that could be his new form of transport for the time being. After all, the local products from the PRNAF were scarse, and the quality was rubbish, generally. Yes, he'd probably have to ask about that VLT when he returned to base.

Gilberto Monteluci International Airport, Venezia

Obviously, this man has no idea what he’s saying, or what I said, probably. The pilot thought, as he listened to the Russkyan reply. Then, he suddenly realised he had been stupid. Of course, the pilot spoke English, he got through the airport's English-speaking ATC anyways. Downside was, that English wasn’t Marchesi’s strongest point.

‘Ehm, Nice, eh, planes. You get Ziel later. First, mess. There, we talk.’ During this conversation in English, Marchesi made use of the first and foremost Italian weapon during conversations: his hands. Trying to make things more clear by excessively moving his hands about in a uniform language, spoken by almost anyone on the planet. He then continued by gesturing towards the mess building, and signalling to follow him.

As they entered the small mess, it was immediately clear what planes the squadron used: a miniaturised Handley-Page Victor stood in the center of the hallway, and pictures of various different Victors including their aircrew lined the walls. In one corner, dozens of other, more historic pictures decorated the walls and pillars, including World War 2 bombercrews stationed on the airfield in Venezia, flying Short Stirling bombers, and, most curiously, a sixties picture of a Handley-Page Victor being escorted by Mikoyan-Guevich or Sukhoi-designed fighter jets. The underscript was in Cyrillic, and the pilots in the mess probably hadn’t been able to read it, but they had stuck it next to the other pictures regardless. For Van Luxemburger bomber pilots, it was common practice during the Cold War to ‘test’ the air defences of Warsaw Pact nations, by flying close to their airspace, or flying on a course directly towards it. Most of the time, they would be guided away by airplanes scrambled to intercept the bomber, and this way the pilots and crewmembers could examine the aircraft and habits of their Cold War adversaries. Since these flights had been halted during the nineties, the Victors were of little use to the Van Luxemburger ALD anymore. Besides for their bombing roles in smaller conflicts, of course.

As Marchesi entered, he gestured towards a seat next to the old pictures, and waving at the officer serving drinks across the mess room. Non-alcoholic ofcourse, as alcohol was strictly prohibited during combat operations. It could influence your wakefulness, after all.

Seyler Airfield, Neunhausen, Luxembourg

‘ACHTUNG! Offizéier Duprel, Däin Männe Bitte!’

The group must’ve looked like a completely unorganised bunch, with all kinds of different weapons and equipment used. Their only commonality seemed to be their uniforms, and even those differed to various degrees. The officer standing by the group of men seemed to be carrying a Zastava M77 assault rifle, a somewhat unusual Kalashnikov-derivative as it utilised 7.62mm NATO munitions. Next to him, his Leitnant carried a HK21E with telescope sight, a highly unusual combination for a normal group of soldiers. Amongst the others, weaponry varied even more, ranging from FAMAS assault rifles to semi-automatic Fiorentini FSM42 rifles, chambered in 7.5x55mm Swiss. One would say that this was of course waiting for trouble to happen while in the field, with so much different ammunitions having to be supplied to one and the same military unit. However, this unit rarely operated according to the normal military laws: The Draachentrupp was a military unit that could best be described as Paracommandos, being just one step below the renowned Reebouwuecht, together with the Maritieme Jagers that were often deployed on ships in the Dié sea. The Draachentrupp was best at operating behind enemy lines, parachuting in to take over important objectives and targets. And that was just what it was about to do.

Each soldier had been given his orders individually, as the commander of the Draachentrupp hated to give orders in front of all his men, a strange quirk of the man that commanded one of the better units in the Arméi. Next to that, the Draachentrupp members were less rank-oriented than their Arméi counterparts, meaning everyone had an equal say during the planning of an operation, and thus actions undertook by this unit always required at least consent from their men. This operation, then, had been silently thought out on the Draachentrupps Seyler base, and consisted of a full battalion of Draachentrupp paracommandos performing a HALO jump over the capital of the Dié territory the Grand Duchy was supposed to invade, Chateauneuf. There, the troops would take the buildings of the local governor, and thus take out the communication to and from the capital. Of course, with such a HALO jump, the risk of dispersion was enormous, and therefore the operation would take place 3 o’clock at night, making the paracommandos less visible to enemy eyes, who probably wouldn’t have night vision goggles as standard, a luxury the Draachentrupp indeed had. A new Walter Technologie battlefield GPS would locate all the individual soldiers and make them visible to their own troop by tagging them on a small GPS apparatus: a system currently in testing by some Arméi units. From there, the troops would attack their primary objective, and subsequently take out any communication arrays that had been placed near it. By then, the main offensive started from both sides of the enclave would probably disorient the enemy so much that the Para’s could extract from the area, or hold their position with little to no resistance. If they hold their positions, the first conventional units in Chateauneuf should extract them as soon as they arrived.

A somewhat similar action would be mounted in Port Transperret, where the Maritieme Jagers would take action against the port specifically. In true combat diver style, they would breach the defences around the port by using diving equipment, and silently place explosive charges and mines around the port and on the boats to disrupt shipping. From there, the divers would either extract in the same way they got in, or attack several ground targets in the city before linking up with Arméi units. It would all depend on how far the ground troops had advanced during the attack, and to some degree the amount of resistance offered by Dié conscripts.

Alongside the Draachentrupp paracommandos would be troops of the Plaatische Luchtmobiele Brigade, with it’s pathfinder troops dropping in at exactly the same time, with the other elements of the battalion dropping in just moments later. It was an unusual coincidence that the LMB would be participating in this action, as the units were training with the Draachentrupp under Exercise AEOLUS I, before the Draachentrupp was called out to take part in the intervention in Dié. And it would not be long before this exercise could prove it’s worth in actual action.

Gilberto Monteluci International Airport, Military Section, Venezia.
11h52 Local Time 30-05-09

Where the fuck is this guy from, the West? The only Russkyans who were that expressive with their hands were the people who hailed from the foothills of that mountainous province. However, there was a certain international utility of these gestures and the pilot - and his crew - followed obediently while the Wing Commander sought out his counterpart and figured out a lingua franca. That done, they proceeded to plot - quickly, for time was of the essence - how the Russkyan heavy bombers could assist the Victors and Typhoons in their strike missions.

Given their proximity to Dié and Dié-controlled territory, the Tupolevs would have an impressive loiter time at altitude with a full bombload. Given the capability of the new SAB-500 and -1000 S-E series glide-bombs and the tried-and-proven KAB guided bombs, it was anticipated that if things got tough at any point on the ground the Luxemburgers and Plaatzers would be able to tap significant on-call firepower. This plan would have been almost completely infeasible if the Dié possessed any sort of useful air defence network, but as they didn't and as what little they did have was scheduled to undergo a comprehensive program of destruction, it was in fact a completely viable plan.

The 20th Strategic Bomber Wing would be supported by at least two more "BGS" convoys ferrying more munitions and spare parts than was possible by the strategic airlift complement assigned to the incongrously named Operation Tumeric. Given Dié's relatively mild transgression - compared to say, supporting covert operations inside Russkya or conducting attacks on Russkya or Russkyan facilities themselves - it was felt that the deployment of significant RVMF or RA forces was not rated. The RVVS therefore dedicated itself to supporting the VL and allied units entering Dié as completely as possible. If required, a number of Su-34MF/R and Su-37/R aircraft were standing by to be ferried to the Gilberto Monteluci field and conduct operations. A number of senior RVVS officers familiar with their service branch's history wished that the paratroopers were still under Air Force control as they had been in the 1930s and again briefly in the 1950s.

ZMS Pieter Cornelisz, Dié sea, 27th of May, 0h00

The destroyer was already some thirty years old, but it’s effectivity was undisputed. The ships were often used on anti-piracy patrols in the area, and always carried a small detachment of Maritieme Jagers aboard, along with their equipment. The Maritieme Jagers always had a reputation to defend as combat divers, a reputation they’d prove once again today, after decennia of being ‘just’ maritime intervention units. This time, the Maritieme Jagers would deploy from their usual base, the destroyer ZMS Pieter Corneliszn, to attack a Dié port. They would be dropped by helicopter several kilometres out, together with their gear, and then

‘Rebreathers klaar en gecheckt? We moeten gaan heren, zoveel tijd hebben we niet.’ The officer shouted around the helicopter hangar, pushing the other soldiers to finish their pre-dive checks. As the men had suited up, they rose up from the floor and were taken outside to the helideck, where a single Eurocopter Dauphin, painted in a matte black finish and with the word ‘MARINE’ positioned on the side doors, awaited to take the ten-man detachment to battle.

The commandoes, clothed in black diving suits, with Divex Shadow rebreathers wrapped around them, carried rather large bags that could be clipped onto their vests during the dive, in order to be able to store enough C4 explosives, and several pouches, probably containing their weaponry, primarily Heckler&Koch P11 pistols, as well as AGM-01L, FSM-56, FSM-69 and FAM-87c rifles, all prepared and secured for an underwater dive. The idea was that they wouldn’t have to use their weaponry, as they remained submerged and would be invisible to the human eye because of their depth and the complete lack of the well-known diving bubbles, the advantage of using a fully closed circuit. Regardless of this fact, they had still prepared their weapons in case a gunfight would erupt inside the port.

As the ten-man team hopped aboard the helicopter, several crewmembers of the Pieter Corneliszn quickly saluted their mates, before the helicopter took off with a thundering sound, passing just over their heads. It then rapidly disappeared in a northern direction, carefully followed by several pairs of binoculars held by crewmembers around the ship.

The flight towards territorial waters was uneventful, and even with the helicopter only just skimming above the surface while in Dié territory, nothing happened. Then, the Dauphin suddenly halted and hovered closely over the azure blue water (the Dié Sea was not that deep, especially close to the shore), before the combat divers jumped out, having prepared for this jump minutes before. Closely holding on to the vital components of their suit, holding one hand on their scuba gear and one covering their face, preventing the full face mask to come loose during the jump.

Once under water, the group gathered to reorganise and check if the diver propulsion vehicles had indeed been deployed by the helicopter crew. They had, and would certainly make life easier for the divers. The small, electro-powered submarine-like vehicles could easily be held onto by two to four divers, and could hold their position automatically in shallow waters, allowing the divers to leave them just outside the port to perform the rest or the mission by themselves. If necessary, a single diver could guard the DPV’s, but this would probably not be necessary altogether.

The divers would first stay at a relatively shallow depth, in order to consume air for the rest of the mission. Then, inside the port, they’d dive to a depth of about 10 metres, making them invisible in a dark night like this. The submerged special forces would then plant explosives on all ships in the port, before evacuating themselves from the area and blowing the charges simultaneously when at a safe distance. They would then be returned to the Pieter Corneliszn by a Type 212 submarine patrolling in the area, since there was a risk that the air defence of the city could detect a helicopter during the state of alert in Dié that would occur as the ships had been blown out of the water.

A400M, Callsign Sigma Three, over the Alzettemier, 0h00

The combat divers of the Maritieme Jagers were not the only special forces units underway to start the military operations in Dié territory: A full battalion of Draachentrupp paracommandos, clothed in full HALO jump gear, would also start their own operation in Chateauneuf. In only minutes, they’d undertake one of the riskiest operations in Van Luxemburger military history, and also one of the largest simultaneous HALO drops in recent history. Despite these facts, the troops aboard the aircraft seemed calm, and preoccupied with their own business.

Aboard this aircraft, Colonel Duprel sat next to his troops, and checked his rifle and magazine. The story behind his Zastava M77 was indeed an interesting one, but that would have to be told another time. The assault rifle, with his initials stamped on the buttstock, was loaded for action now, and the only thing Duprel would have to do was release the weapon, and set it to ‘semi-automatic’ or ‘fully automatic’ by one and the same fire selector switch. He would do so as soon as he hit the ground, while also discarding his parachute and related equipment, which was way too heavy to lug around in a warzone.

As the red light came on, and the loadmaster began shouting ETA times, the group rose as one, and so did troops in the other aircraft behind them. On green light, they would jump out as a group and descend together, and open their parachutes at low altitude, to avoid being spotted. As soon as they landed, they’d take the governor’s office by storm, and subsequently destroy communications equipment there.

Monteluci Condor, Callsign Epsilon One, over the Alzettemier, 0h10

‘We are getting a signal. The communications in Chateauneuf, probably.’ One of the operators raised his hand as he reported to his superior, who also sat behind his own console to overlook the EW operations aboard the aircraft.

‘I’m receiving signals from a radar station, of the Chateauneuf Air Defence. It’s searching for targets actively. Jam the signal ourselves, or assign one of the escorts?’ Another operator began, suggesting the system should be taken out, as per his orders.

‘We are blocking all radar and radio traffic from Dié, as instructed. I want those republicans to hear nothing but static, and look at blacked-out radar screens. Understood?’ The commander of the EW operations had to shout through the rather large aircraft, especially because most operators had their hearing blocked by large headphones, which allowed them to listen to enemy communications.

They had heard him, however. Immediately, the team went to work, and the aircraft started transmitting electronic signals towards the ground, and pinpointed radar and communications installations for the Eurofighters’ ARMIGER missiles, in case they were needed.
Within several minutes, major parts of the Chateauneuf Air Defence network was down or jammed, solely through electronic attacks. Even if one of the radars would come back online, it would be too short to get a lock on the transport aircraft breaching the airspace around the city, since they’d be subsequently targeted by anti-radiation missiles. And if that wasn’t enough, the Russkyans still had their Blackjacks in the area, which would make sure the persistent sectors of the AD network would never return to the world of the living.

A400M, Callsign Sigma Three, over Chateauneuf, 0h30

‘GOGOGOGO!’ The loadmaster shouted as some one-hundred pair soldier feet ran down the aircraft and jumped out into the dark night sky, overlooking the city. Only in the distance, several lights could be seen, probably from Van Luxemburger towns or from ships. The city itself was pitch black, thanks to several old Dié measures to prevent enemy pilots to be able to localise themselves with the use of the city lights. The transport aircraft however hadn’t had any problems with locating the drop zone, thanks to their GPS and night vision systems.

Colonel Duprel somehow enjoyed these kind of jumps. The cool nightly winds blowing past you, falling down at extremely high speeds, and deploying your parachute when you are about to hit the ground. And here he was again, looking at the large groups of specialised soldiers that had jumped with him. They had all gathered in large circles, around the commander of their group. GPS allowed them to coordinate their jump, with all troops diving towards a single target on the ground: the governor’s house, also serving as his office. Or, better said, the office which was also his house.

Just metres before the ground, the troops opened their parachutes, a sound that could probably be heard throughout the city. Nevertheless, the soldiers continued their descent, slowly but surely, and all landed within several hundred metres of their target. Even though the unit had decided against using their radio in the first stages of the operations, it would have to be used in emergencies. This resulted in a premature use of the radio, just seconds after the colonel’s landing.

‘Alfa, this is Omega. Repeat, Omega calling Alfa.’ The voice seemed somewhat stressed, but the speaker surely wasn’t in panic. Colonel Duprel answered seconds later via his headset, whispering his answer to avoid being heard.

‘Omega, this is Alfa. Go ahead.’

‘Man down, Repeat, Man down. The Sergent’s parachute failed to deploy, requesting further instructions, over.’

It now downed upon Duprel that they had failed to discuss the procedure for a dead soldier during the landing. This probably was the result of that.

‘Take him with you towards the objective. We can not leave him there. Out.’

‘Wilco.’

The entire radio conversation took no more than several seconds, but it made Duprel realised something: That sergent would be the man (or woman, he did not know) that would go down into history as the first Van Luxemburger killed in this conflict. Meanwhile, he scanned his surroundings, and indeed set the Zastava rifle to the fully automatic setting, before continuing. He was quick to link up with several others, who had landed in adjacent streets. The center of the city was known as the old town, and was particularly hard to land in, thanks to the narrow streets and century-old buildings. It was of course not hard to guess where their monumental objective was located, and where the troops would have to parachute; this made operations even harder.

Duprel continued with his men following behind him in a column formation, moving close to the walls, and carefully peeking around corners to check for possible enemy movements. Sneaking across a deserted open space, he silently thanked the Dié authorities for imposing an evening curfew, meaning no civilians would be on the streets at this hour. However, the risk of meeting a military or police patrol had substantially increased thanks to this curfew. It was a risk he would prefer over killing innocent civilians, but it still meant an increase of danger for his own troops, seeing normal civilians would not be armed, but military and police personnel would be.

Thinking about this, he carefully peeked around the corner, and found himself looking at the square in front of the governor’s house. Two police officers stood by an IFA Robur van, their Zastava rifles carelessly resting on the bumper of the small truck, painted in the white/blue livery of the Dié Federal Police. Nearer to the historic office block, two military guards in standard MOL camouflage performed ceremonial duties, with their Yugo M70’s in a ready position. There were no lights inside the office, as prescribed by the Dié instructions, and it seemed most of the office personnel had gone home. It was nearly one o’clock at night, after all. The square was rather large, and he remembered that his briefing said that the roads had been reinforced to allow heavy vehicles such as tanks to participate in the annual military parade. A fountain had been erected in the centre, but the statue that had once been the centrepiece of the fountain had been largely destroyed. The cobblestones around it were battered and bruised, probably because of the many vehicles that crossed them on a daily basis. A thing that proved this was the fact that a parking somewhat away from the square housed many cars, mostly former Eastern bloc products. The rest of the square was largely dark, thanks to the old, high buildings constructed around it, mostly using of beige-ish natural stones, a thing done more often in this region.

The office building itself, their main objective, stood on a hill somewhat secluded from the square. A large lawn and an stone wall/iron fence combination (of which the gate was opened), divided the house from the rest of the city. The two soldiers seemed to be the only guards of the building, since the police officers were probably enforcing the curfew. The police officers also didn’t seem to be particularly attentive, with one holding on to the left mirror while smoking a cigarette, and the other sitting on the bumper while reading a magazine of some sort.

Looking back to his own group, he saw that several other teams had assembled behind them, awaiting their orders. Duprel thought for a moment, before addressing his troops. Whispering, of course, because he should not be seen or heard by the hostile soldiers on the square.

‘So, this is what I have planned out. On the word “go”, You.’ He pointed at the soldier that was standing next to him. ‘Take out that police officer sitting on the bumper, and you.’ He pointed at a second Draachentrupp officer standing close to him ‘Take out the other police officer near the mirror. You and you’ He pointed at two soldiers standing somewhat towards the back ‘Take down the two guards. As soon as you took them out, you will move in with me and secure the area. The rest of the group will show up if I wave. As soon as everyone has joined us, we will enter our objective via the opened gate. You there, you drive that Robur into the gate and block it, so that no-one can enter through there. We will regroup on the doorstep, and continue in a room-by-room clearing fashion as soon as possible. Everyone clear? Three, two, one, GO!’

The five Draachentrupp operatives took up positions behind several walls, and carefully pointed their rifles at their targets. The silenced assault rifles made little sound, and the hostiles simply collapsed, as if they suffered from a heart attack. One of the police officers still held on to the Robur mirror, and the other had collapsed as if he had fallen asleep and was now draped across the bumper, with the magazine having fallen down onto the cobblestones. Then, the group of marksmen continued to move along the walls of the houses around the square, and checked the road ahead. Seeing it was clear, Duprel signalled the rest to show up, which they did en masse. The troops sped across the open area and flocked through the gate, where they waited the last soldier to block the gate with the small truck.

The IFA Robur made a tremendous noise, the 60’s diesel engine seemingly having a morning mood. As the soldier put it in reverse gear and allowed the clutch to put the vehicle in motion to turn properly in order to block the gate, the bodies dropped off the vehicle, and were left on the cobblestone square. Then, the Robur came up to speed in forward gear, and the Draachentrupp operative made a quick manoeuvre to block the gate, before braking hard to stop the old vehicle, and then getting out via the passenger side.

As the group was complete, it was only a matter of seconds before the troops stormed the governor’s house. Rooms were cleared in rapid succession, and all unarmed civilians found were tied up and taken to the living room of the building, while guards were shot. This rapid action left little time for the defending forces to respond, and within 20 minutes, the building was under Draachentrupp control, with only one casualty on the Van Luxemburger side, and 20 prisoners gathered in the living room. As this had been completed, most of the troops spread throughout the building to defend it if necessary. A team of specially-trained engineers was sent up to the roof and into the communications room to sabotage the communications equipment thoroughly. Meanwhile, Colonel Duprel spend his time with the prisoners, together with several of his men.

Outside, meanwhile, several members of the Dié armed forces had noticed that there was something going on. Usually, they would receive orders from the Governor’s house, but the radio systems had went completely silent. It would only be a matter of minutes before someone would go to investigate and put all other military forces on full alert, meaning they’d try to take back the now-Van Luxemburger stronghold..

15,000m (49.5kft) above the Bouteille Isolante
22h00 Local Time, 30-05-09

Currently, twenty-four of the thirty-six Tupolev Tu-160/RUs belonging to the 20th Strategic Bomber Wing were flying over the Bouteille Isolante at 1.25 Mach. Three days into hostilities - the Russkyans had arrived late to the party, their invitations not having arrived in time to make the beginning of the celebrations - the RVVS fliers felt no need to be subtle, nor did their planning officers. They were fully exploiting the payload and kinematic capabilities of their aircraft in this initial sortie against the Dié. It would expand upon the damage already wrought to the Dié defences and military forces in the Bouteille Isolante by their Lëtzebuerger colleagues.

Between their arrival around noon of this same day and this mid-evening sortie, the Russkyan flightcrews had slept, eaten, been briefed on Dié capabilities, what the Lëtzebuergers had done to reduce or remove those capabilities, and their aircraft had been serviced and uploaded with 43,900 kilograms of ordnance. This was just under a full load, and the basic arrangement for all of the bombers was centered on six Kh-31MP anti-radiation missiles. These would allow the "Blackjacks" of the 20th Strategic Bomber Wing some ability to suppress or destroy enemy air defences that unmasked to engage them. The SEAD/DEAD mission was not the central focus of the Tu-160/RUs, however, as they would be taking advantage of jamming provided by already airborne Lëtzebuerger assets, Lëtzebuerger EF-2000 escorts, and the activities of the 20th СтрБо's own SEAD/DEAD squadron of Su-32MFRs, currently without support from the Tu-160PP/Rs of the Electronic Warfare and Reconnaissance Squadron. The weapons that made up the majority of the payloads for the Tu-160/RUs were KAB series guided bombs, twenty-four of them, all of the KAB-1500 family. Twelve were KAB-1500L, and the remainder were KAB-1500Kr. Of the dozen electro-optically guided bombs, half were equipped with delay fuzes and conventional high explosive filler. The other half were filled with a thermobaric mixture and their fuze options were split evenly between airburst and graze.

The KAB-1500L were also split between thermobaric and conventional high explosive fillers. The hardest job for the ALD and RVVS between the start order for Operation Thracian and this first sortie was getting the Lëtzebuerger FACs the correct settings for their laser designators so that the laser exciter would generate a signal that the KAB's semiautomatic seeker would recognize and track in on. These weapons were on call at the behest of the Arméi: if a large enemy concentration presented itself, target it and watch the fireworks. If a enemy forward supply depot was located and the artillery had better targets to engage? Illuminate and wait. If the enemy needed a lesson in the quintessence of shock and awe, a quick radio call, laser illumination, and a few minutes' wait would certainly suffice.

That support was scheduled to commence at 00h00 31-05-09, in two hour's time. At present, the Tu-160/RUs cruised towards Dié airfields at Campologno/Chateauneuf, Port Transperret, and the Barrage Perretoise. Underneath them and slightly ahead, at 14,000m above ground level, twelve Su-32MFRs, six per squadron of Tupolevs, cleared the way. Their task was to protect the bombers from SAM threats, and therefore carried four Kh-31R/A and two KAB-500L. The laser guided 500kg bombs were loaded with multipurpose submunitions so as to catch as much of the SAM battery in their effect pattern as possible. Thorough ALD jamming support meant that these aircraft would, with any luck, have to return to base without expending any of their weapons. Unless of course the Dié were so careless as to poorly camouflage their systems, in which case the "Fullbacks" or Typhoons would locate and neutralize them on their sweeps.

Dié airfields were not laid out like many Russkyan airfields. There were hardened aircraft shelters and revetments, but no redundant runways and no vast arcs of taxiway that were difficult to sever. And like many air forces, they pretended that the pilots and aircraft were infinitely more valuable than the men and supplies who kept them in the air. Satellite imagery had provided all of the information required to upload the appropriate targeting picture to the KAB-1500Kr bombs, which would seek out with mechanical precision the runway, taxiways, staging areas, occupied revetments, fuel storage sites, aircrew and groundcrew quarters, and ammunition sites. The thermobaric bombs would target the softer items; the storage sites, the quarters, and any exposed aircraft. The delay-fuzed explosives would rent asunder the concrete of the taxiways and runways, the staging pads, and as some airfields were over-allocated ground penetrating bombs, even some of the hardened aircraft shelters believed most likely to be occupied by "Ready 5" state aircraft would serviced by three thousand pound bombs. It was not protocol to waste these bombs on HAS structures when priority targets such as the runway were still operable, simply because bomb damage assessment indicated that most HAS required two or sometimes three strikes by heavy penetrating bombs to ensure a kill.

26 May, 22h35, Gilberto Monteluci International Airport, Military Section, Venezia.

If it weren't for Exercise AEOLUS I, De Vliggenplaat wouldn't be in this war despite their characteristic national gratitude towards Van Luxemburg after their assistance in defeating the Kharanji invasion of their fatherland. 'Fatherland' was misleading, as the Plaatische referred to it as 'the Homeland', eschewing the more traditional names used by their immediate neighbours, the Gauls and Suidfalans.
Only their immediate proximity had allowed them to participate, and upon being quickly and efficiently involved in the planning process as was the Lëtzebuerg and Plaatische way it had been decided that the simplest thing to do would be to re-hash AEOLUS I under the operational name THRACIAN. Put bluntly, THRACIAN was to be a live-fire replay of the kind of exercises the Luchtmobiele Brigade had conducted earlier in the month.

Downing the last of their tea, the soldiers of the Pathfinding platoons filed aboard their Lëtzebuerger transport aircraft, faces hidden under thickly applied green and brown greasestick, clad in their "DV DPM" Mod.04 combats, and carrying obscene amounts of ammunition for their G9, G9K, and MG.9 weapons. Nearly all men carried an Aequatian LAAW-66. Those who did not carried the heavier LAAW-90. Those who carried neither were burdened with radios, medical equipment, or even more ammunition than the usual load of 7.94x56mm, this time in disintegrating belts for use in the MG.9 LMGs. Over this equipment they wore a parachute harness, over their stomachs they wore a reserve parachute, and underneath the reserve were small rigid backpacks containing rations, additional batteries, and the other military impedimentia that was just as important as rifle ammunition. There was a bit of a wait. Then the aircraft taxied, took off, and joined the stream of aircraft heading over the Dié-controlled Bouteille Isolante.

Other aircraft were loaded with supply pallets, palletized weaponry and vehicles, and the other men of the Luchtmobiele Brigade who would be conducting a landing very soon. A full three battalions - referred to as Commandoes - were being airlifted tonight, with elements of the Headquarters and Support Commando being left behind at the airbase to coordinate, prepare resupply, and funnel reinforcements. They had a long wait on the tarmac, though they didn't finish loading until 23h58, just a few minutes behind schedule. At least it was a comfortable temperature outside, raised a couple degrees inside the aircraft. The Luchtmobiele men wrestled with their adrenaline, tried to sleep, distracted themselves with jokes and songs. They would be landing heavy, and the men of Nos. 1 and 2 Parachute Field Artillery Battery and No. 1 Airlanding Armoured Reconnaissance Squadron were quite understandably nervous. There was nothing in their tradition or history that prepared them for this. The men of 1 and 2 Commando could at least think back to the last combat jump the Luchtmobiele had made, many decades ago, and resolve to compare favourably to their storied lineage.

Regulations forbade wearing it during the jump, but each man carried his maroon beret. It was to be worn Aequatian-style, in homage to the elite men of the Aequatian Airborne who had unhesitatingly helped defend the Homeland against the Kharanji aggressor. The sage green combat boots borrowed from the same foreign formation were worn only by the chosen few of the Luchtmobiele Brigade, the Pathfinders and handful of others who were certified "Raiders". Finally, the men of 1 and 2 Commando, and 3 (Support) Commando, were lifted into the night sky by A-400 transports.

27 May, 00h01, over Dropzones Ärger, Kurfürst, Öse, and Übel.

They landed unseen, much as the Draachentruppe had. One man broke his leg landing on a rock by sheer chance and stifled his screams by biting hard into the padded shoulder strap of his combat webbing. It took his team medic two minutes to find him, three minutes to treat him, and his team two minutes to evacuate him to the casualty collection point just to the North of the first infrared strobe marker installed on Dropzone Kurfüst. The Pathfinders carried on towards the objective of Operation THRACIAN, bounding through the woods by fireteams, green shadows flitting between trees.

In fourteen minutes from the time they dove from the doors of their transports, the remainder of the Luchtmobiele would arrive. Suddenly, with little warning, and with overwhelming force. This was their way of war. They brought with them a number of boxy Unimogs, BRA armoured cars, and 105mm lightweight gun-howitzers. And of course, the umbiquitous LAAWs, MAAWs, 81mm and 120mm mortars. In twenty minutes, the Pathfinders were overlooking the objective: Barrage Perretoise. They sketched it despite knowing its layout intimately from several detailed briefings. They plotted sentries, known routes, and guard positions. Teams of two men carried this detailed information back to each dropzone, awaiting the arrival of the others. Other teams, these of four men, carefully reconnoitred the firing positions initially selected for No. 1 and No. 2 batteries, Parachute Field Artillery.

On Öse and Kurfürst, the Pathfinders established a small headquarters underneath an evergreen tree, stringing camouflage net around their position and running the radio antennae up alongside the trunk through the branches. A Pathfinder officer checked his watch and returned his attention to the area around them while the men under his command hid their parachutes. Not long now, he thought.

27 May, 00h25, Three minutes from Dropzone Ärger and Dropzone Kurfürst

There was no shouting. The jumpmaster simply raised both arms well above his head and stretched his fingers towards the roof of the cabin. The commandoes stood, laid hands on the pack in front of them and checked the main. All were perfect. The men looked down at their reserve and checked. All were perfect, though one commando fidgeted nervously with the manual rip cord for a moment before he clipped his static line toggle to the master line. There was very little slack. The jumpmaster dropped his arms, holding them out from the shoulders: Standby.

The doors swung up and the slipstream howled, as it was bound to do. The lead men winced from the blast of air and the sudden noise, and waited. Ahead of them, cargo pallets were being released from other transport aircraft, dropping their stripped-down Unimog trucks, BRA armoured cars, and L118 Light Guns. Already at a forty-five degree angle to the door, it was a simple matter to step out with the left leg leading slightly - of course, the right leg leading slightly if they were exiting from the opposite door. This allowed the slipstream to turn the jumper slightly so they were facing away from the aircraft as their static lines ran out and snapped the rubber bands holding pack-trays shut, jerking the parachute silk from its canvas container and deploying it fully in less than a second. Each commando felt a tremendous jolt, then breathlessly glanced up and tried to determine in the dark of night if his parachute was "large, round, sound" or if he'd have to attempt a cutaway and deploy his reserve before he hit the ground. All in under forty-five seconds, given the air density and altitude of their jump. Gunner Schaal of No. 2 Battery decided his parachute was 'good to go'. Distinct soft thumps sounded as other parachutes opened above and around him, more men jumping in, as engine noise filled the night sky. Underneath him, retro-rockets fired and collapsed cargo parachute canopies as the Light Guns and BRAs touched down on terra firma.

Then he glanced at the horizon, watched it, saw the ground rush up to meet him through his peripheral vision and bent his knees, pulled his legs together. He kept staring at the horizon, for to look at the ground was to unconsciously straighten your legs and risk breaking them badly. Then it balls of feet, upper leg, rear, and back, just as the manual said. Also head, side, and bruised arms, as real life dictated. A few quick snaps and he was free of his harness, up and doing as each commando did upon landing: checking his weapon first, then looking around to find the others. As these men were from the Field Artillery batteries and the Armoured Reconnaissance squadron, they looked first for their vehicle.
The pallets had landed safely, four large cargo parachutes draped over their contents, smoke from the retro-rockets drifting across the dropzone. They ran to these, cutting the parachutes free and shoving their smaller parachutes and the pallet's cargo chute underneath the pallet. Engines were started, and the BRAs moved off the dropzone towards their rally point. Muted thumps and snaps were heard above as more paratroopers arrived, the sound being that of their canopies opening.

A total of four commandoes made mistakes on their side exit drills, tangling their shroud lines, frantically running in place until the lines untangled, then quickly tucking their feet together and bending their knees. Severely bruised, these commandoes made it to the dirt intact, unlike the unfortunate Pathfinder. HALO was more dangerous than static line jumping, but that was not to say that static line jumping was safe by any means - especially at night.
With the encrypted digital radios, there was no crackle of static, simply the clear, low voices of platoon commanders checking in with their company commanders, interfacing with the commanders of the BRA Marauder armoured cars now idling near the dropzone. Gunners hooked L118 gun-howitzers to their Unimogs and began moving to pre-reconnoitred firing positions, the trucks bristling with barrels; each gunner not driving or manning the MG89 GPMG in the front passenger's seat or the one on the rollcage shouldering his rifle and covering his sector. It was an unarmoured vehicle, and only violence of action would save them in the event of a contact.

And by 00h43, the entirety of 3 (Support) Commando and 1 Commando were on the ground, as planned. Two companies of 2 Commando were waiting for a lift in at 02h30 on Dropzones Öse and Übel. The assault would commence at 01h00, keeping to the OPSCHED as much as possible to save on headaches.

27 May. 00h46, Dropzone Ärger

The dropzones were cleared agricultural fields surrounded by trees, selected for their proximity to the objective and an absolute minimum of safety. They had not been selected because they were ideal sites for parachute drops. Colonel Erhard Hartigan shrugged out his harness and reached to his chest holster, reassuring himself that the curved grip of the Webley revolver was still there. Next, he unclipped his rucksack from the jump harness and donned it, his rifle hanging from its one point sling, and checked his compass. He headed to the north-east corner of the dropzone.

He had been the first man out the door of his aircraft. When he reached the north-east corner of the DZ, he didn't find his superior, Brigadier Kaufmann. Hartigan wouldn't find his commanding officer until the next day, when the Brigadier would be found dangling from the upper reaches of a tree with numerous broken bones, including his neck. The other jumpers of his stick had landed disturbingly close to the end of the DZ, landing beside trees, and it had been the Brigadier's poor luck that had him landing in a tree. There was nothing to be done about it, and in five minutes Hartigan gave up on waiting and formally assumed command of Operation THRACIAN. Sitting with his command staff by the CP established by the pathfinders, he waited patiently, ticking off points on his Operations Schedule as radio reports filtered in.

The men of 1 Commando's A and B Coy reached their forming up positions at 00h53. They had seven minutes to move the hundred and fifty meters to their firing positions overlooking the dam, and at 01h00 precisely they would commence firing.

Barrage Perretoise

The group of soldiers sat around a small fire, trying to warm their hands for a bit. Their rifles rested against the concrete barrier on the roadway, but nobody seemed to be actually guarding the road across the dam. Of course, these troops were conscripts, and would not really feel like being on guard all night. Therefore, the troops had made themselves a camp fire, and now exchanged life experiences.

‘I told you already, I’ve seen them. They have cars that would make our police cry of joy if they’d get to drive them.’

‘You are joking. Nothing can be better than the PRNAF cars we have here. Our government said…’

‘Fuck what the government said. It’s just not true.’ Their sergeant interrupted, who was supposed to keep the conscripts all stick together, and supposed to report any conscript who spread lies about their government. Judging from his reaction, however, he would not report anyone soon.

‘The Van Luxemburgers drive fast and expensive cars. Stand by their motorway sometime. You’ll find that even their police drives cars we can only dream about.’

‘They drive a Zil?’ One of the soldiers replied, only having read recent governmental publications about cars. Which meant that he only read about the new PRNAF, or 20 year old Zastavas.

‘No, no. Cars from Europe. And cars they make themselves. Ferrari’s, Audi’s, Monteluci’s, VLT’s. At home, we can sometimes receive the analog signal of the Van Luxemburger TV. They have some wonderful TV programmes on this’

‘But it is prohibited to watch any Van Luxemburger TV show.’

‘Fuck what the government said, I told you so already.’ The sergeant replied once again, now somewhat irritated.

Suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by the sound of turboprop aircraft, flying low over their heads. The soldiers ignored this, as it was common to hear aircraft passing over, and they were too busy discussing the truth about the laws regarding foreign TV broadcasts.

The discussion continued for around an hour, with either side not coming any closer without actual proof of their arguments. As the sergeant checked his watch, he saw the hands crawl closer and closer to 1 o’clock, and realised he had been discussing on this subject for nearly an hour.

‘Guys, let’s cut it off. We’re not going to get any closer to each other with this.’

‘Agreed. I say…’

As the sergeant’s watch beeped, because it was supposed to go off every hour, gunfire erupted from both sides of the dam, leading to the conscripts diving down into cover and desperately trying to reach their Zastavas, which rested against the concrete barrier. Several of the group were killed instantly as the gunfire started, including the squad’s resident machinegunner, leaving a Zastava M84 machinegun unmanned.

Sheltering behind the concrete barrier, a group of six soldiers, including the sergeant and the two opposing conscripts, realised that they would not stand a chance against what seemed an overwhelming enemy force.

‘Well, we can at least wait until the tanks can come in to save us.’ One of the conscripts suggested to the sergeant, his pupils the size of golf balls.

‘You have a point there, but we can’t hold out for half an hour in this. My proposal is that we surrender and wait for the tanks to liberate us. Is that an idea?’ The sergeant answered, reducing his signature once again as several bullets ricocheted off the barrier.

‘Deal. Anyone has got something white?’ The conscript replied, looking around the group.

‘My mother gave me a white T-shirt in case I got cold during nightly guard duties.’ One of the other conscripts answered, trying to reach into his bag, next to his rifle.

‘Give it to me. I’ll take care of that.’ The Sergeant ordered, while taking his rifle, removing the magazine and taking the T-shirt from the conscript. He then knotted it to the gun’s barrel, and raised it above his head, so it could be seen from across the dam. Waving it at the enemy forces, he signified the troops on the dam had surrendered, and the fight for the dam was over. For now, at least.

Chateauneuf

‘I asked you twice already. Once again. What is your name and rank?’

The Dié officer sat in an easy chair, but was tie-wrapped to the seat to make sure he wouldn’t go anywhere. A Serjant of the Draachentrupp stood in front of him, accompanied by two lower-ranking soldiers, who kept their rifles at the ready. The Republican officer had refused to give away his identity ever since he had been found in the basement by a locked door. He had surrendered there, thanks to the overwhelming force of a Grupp of twelve heavily armed special forces operators. He had been taken to the central living room of the governor’s house, but had refused to speak ever since. Now, the officer only looked at the Serjant, seemingly not understanding what the Van Luxemburger said. The Serjant, however, knew that the officer would understand him all too well. Both were supposed to be fluent in French, seeing that the Dié populace spoke French, and so did the Serjant, coming from the region of Levallois-Perret.

‘Don’t play stupid. We will identify you, one way or another.’

The Serjant wanted to continue, but was interrupted by two soldiers, who entered the living room with another Dié soldier, who they pushed forwards in front of them.

‘Another one. Seems to be a low-ranking conscript, sir.’

The Serjant looked at the captive, and saw that the man, no older than twenty, was indeed a subject of the Dié draft.

‘Very well. Perhaps he can answer our question. Your own name and rank, and his name and rank, please?’ The Van Luxemburger spoke at an authoritarian tone, almost threatening to the conscript.

‘Eh, eh… Soldat Beaufort, monsieur.’ The conscript answered, seemingly doubting his words.

‘First name?’ The Serjant replied, sounding more like an order than a question.

‘Eh, Martin.’

‘Very well, Martin. Now, what is the name of this man here?’ The Draachentrupp operative asked, pointing his finger at the officer that had been strapped to his seat.

‘Colonel Marchand, monsieur. Je ne sais pas son prénom.’

‘Thank you. Have a seat. There.’ The Serjant answered, allowing his colleaugues to push the captive to the sofa he pointed at.

‘Now, Colonel Marchand. What were you doing in the basement? What is happening behind that closed door?’

No answer.

Suddenly, the Draachentrupp officer pulled his SIG-Sauer pistol out of the holster strapped to his leg, and pointed it at the Dié colonel.

‘I asked, what is there behind the door in the basement?’

He unlocked the weapon by moving the fire selector switch, and now softly pushed the pistol barrel into the man’s ear. The colonel, still as calm as before, proved to be an ice-cold person.

‘If you shoot me, you will never know.’ He answered, speaking slow and calm.

‘We will find the truth. We will now remove the tie-wraps, and you will accompany us to the basement. There, you will open the door, and show us what is behind that door. Do we understand that, good sir?’

The colonel nodded, and allowed the two soldiers to cut away the tie-wraps. He then rose from his seat, and was forced to walk to the basement by the Serjant, who kept him at gunpoint. The two were closely followed by a full squad of Draachentruppe, the same team that had captured the colonel in the basement.

Down in the basement, the colonel opened the door with a key that was located in an unlocked vault, and was the first to walk into the actual basement. It was dark there, but a stench that resembled the odour of rotting meat overruled all other senses.
‘There you are, Sergeant. I now wish to be returned to my seat, please.’ The colonel answered in a monotonous voice, turning around after having entered the basement.

‘The lights, Colonel Marchand.’ The Sergeant ordered, still casually aiming the Sauer firearm at the Dié officer. The Colonel then walked towards a wall directly towards the right of the door, and pushed a button. The fluorescent lamps took a while to heat up, and flickered somewhat as the light intensified. The light revealed around 30-some prison cells, out of which 10 prisoners stared towards the door. It was not until now that the Serjant also smelled the scent of human excrements.

‘I think you will not return to your seat just yet, Colonel.’ The Draachentrupp operative answered, while his facial expression clearly showed disbelief. He pointed his pistol at the colonel once again, forcing the officer to walk further into the room. The ten prisoners stared back at the foreign officer in disbelief, especially when they saw that he held their feared prison commander at gunpoint, and was followed by a group of twelve heavily armed soldiers, neither of which belonged to the Dié military.

‘Identify these people please. And for you, Colonel, I have found a proper sleeping place for tonight.’ The Serjant pointed his pistol towards a prison cell in the back, looking like an isolation cell. For the first time in the last few hours, the colonel seemed nervous and sweaty.

‘You can’t do that to me. I’m a Prisoner of War under the Geneva Convention!’

‘It seems there is something awful behind that door, isn’t it? Besides, it seems like you yourselves do not really obey the Convention anyways.’

The Serjant pushed his captive forward towards the door, and conveniently opened it. As the officer was able to see the room’s contents, he almost threw up, not noticing the colonel also closed his eyes. The room was filled with several bodies, each in a different stage of decomposition. The stench was even worse than in the actual basement, and the Draachentrupp soldier was quick to push the colonel into the room and close the door once again, before locking it with the keys that he had taken from the colonel. Inside the room, a distant knocking signalled that the colonel clearly disagreed with the Serjant’s decision.

‘Please identify all these prisoners and question them. And you, warn the colonel.’ The Serjant said, while he walked out of the basement.

At that moment, gunfire sounded in the distance, coming from outside the building. It was the unmistakeable sound of a Kalashnikov, or at least a knockoff that came close. The whole building came alive, hundreds of soldiers immediately scanning the window they had been assigned to, but little of them actually saw what was happening: a single Dié police patrol had come to relieve their colleagues, but instead found them dead by their truck, and then concluded there was something not quite right with the governors’ house. One of the officers had fired a warning salvo, to see if someone would react. However, the Draachentruppe, who could see the officers through their night vision equipment, were smart enough to not respond.

It was only when the two officers came closer, that the Draachentruppe responded. A machinegun nest that had been positioned on the roof of the building opened fire with their MG3, it’s sound somewhat silenced by the suppressor that had been installed on the 60-year old piece of German engineering. The police officers immediately stood still, before being hit by several bullets each. The 7.62mm rounds impacted with formidable force, throwing the two men back onto the ground.

Short radio communication between the observation post and the command post followed, after which the Colonel decided to send more of his troops onto the roof, in order to observe their surroundings and fend off an attack if necessary.

27 May 01h01, Barrage Perretoise

Adrenaline turned his shout into a scream. "Bounding!" He rose off his belly and sprinted forward, followed by the four men of his fireteam. The official term was "Halbsgruppe", literally "half-group", and the Plaatzers ran forward while the men of the other halbsgruppe kept up a steady cadence of suppressive fire on the objective. They dropped back down onto their belt buckles and resumed firing as their mates in the second halbsgruppe assaulted past them. They knelt and fired at known and suspected enemy positions, flaying any Dié foolish enough to expose himself to the fusilade. Corporal de Kalvern thumbed the magazine release on his G.9K, slapping the falling magazine into his drop bag and letting his left pull a full magazine from its pouch on his vest. This was rocked into place and then the bolt release was fingered, dropping the heavy bolt group into place behind a fresh cartridge. One of his riflemen fired a Gold Two rifle grenade at a door on the dam's surface and as that catapulted inwards in a flash of heat, light and dust, the entire section rose up ready to storm the Dié positions.

Then the white flag was raised and de Kalvern found himself tempted to throw a grenade. I come all this way and you won't fight? Fuck's sake! was the first thought to run through his mind before he noticed his Gruppe commander waving forward his fireteam to take control of the prisoners. de Kalvern flicked his selector switch to full automatic and ran to the side of the door blown open by Paratrooper Junge. His men followed, forming into the stack without a word being said. A slap was passed up the line, and de Kalvern burst through the doorframe with the stock of his G.9K in his shoulder, muzzle up, and rushing towards a corner while searching for targets. The MG.9 followed him in, followed by the two G.9 equipped riflemen of his halbsgruppe. Over the Barrage Perretoise, similar scenes were played out as under the protection of the covering platoons the assault platoons stormed the dam. It took a few minutes to find the appropriate equipment, but the dam's hydroelectric generators were uncoupled from the power mains that supplied the surrounding area with electricity. From UAVs well overhead and orbiting combat aircraft, a large portion of electrically lit Dié territory simply blacked out.

With the dam secure at 01h05, as the defenders had put up a laughable resistance, two troops of armoured cars were sent across the bridge, followed by the second battery of L118 gun-howitzers. Once the guns had been sited in their first firing positions, the prime mover drivers made sure that they knew the routes to their secondary and tertiary firing positions. One battalion took each side of the dam, incorporating Dropzone Ärger and Dropzone Kurfürst into the defensive perimeter which stretched in a rough semi-circle encompassing approximately two kilometers. 1 Commando would hold the Western approaches while 2 Commando was assigned the Eastern approaches. Chokepoints, such as roadways and gaps in the trees through which armoured vehicles could advance were mined with antitank landmines buried by sweating, harried commandoes who hacked out pieces of sod with their entrenching tools, dug up the spoil, and placed the mine. Once armed, the sod was replaced over the mine and the spoil scattered into the grass or used to fill sandbags that were then used to shore up camouflaged slit trench parapets dug by their comrades. Each gruppe were deployed into two man slit trenches which enabled each platoon to cover some 250m of frontage. Gaps were left between companies, whose headquarters were situated in depth behind this front with mortar pits prepared and a ready supply of 81mm ammunition provided. Weapons such as the PaGW-7 ATGM covered the mined approach routes, and patrols of Pathfinders left the perimeter to set up Listening/Observation Posts (LOPs) beyond the Luchtmobiele's defensive positions. They would be tasked with directing airpower and artillery to disrupt enemy offensives before they reached the perimeter. Once at the perimeter, the enemy would run into carefully coordinated defensive fires. Each slit trench contained at least two LAW-66 rockets or one LAAW-90.

After armoured car troop commanders had deconflicted with company and platoon commanders, the armoured cars were kept in reserve to respond to enemy breakthrough attempts. They could also ferry ammunition forward and evacuate casualties to the battalion aid posts or brigade treatment centre set up inside the Barrage Perretoise. Signals were worked out in the highly unlikely event that their communications were jammed. At 02h30 reinforcements would arrive, but before that time pathfinders reported faint engine and track noises. The time was approximately 01h40.

The 761st Bataillon de Char, counting some 16 M-84 tanks with professional crew, and a further 40 T-55’s who were manned by conscripts, was in utter chaos. The surprise attack on the dam had left the unit surprised, and now the irritated professional soldiers, eager to get going, commandeered the young conscripts around to get their own ‘heaps of junk’ combat ready. The conscripts, meanwhile, had degraded into a stressed bunch, that ran around, trying to get organised.

In a nearby army camp, the same scene could be seen, but this time under the 183rd Régiment d’Infanterie (Mech.), a 3000-man strong infantry regiment with support from M-80 IFV’s and M-60 APC’s in limited numbers: In fact, it barely deserved the name ‘Mechanised’. The vast majority of vehicles, produced by Zastava, PRNAF, and a rather random mishmash of various other makes, which were now in the process of being refueled and loaded with troops.

Amidst this organizational mess, the radiomen of the regiments were desperately attempting to reach their headquarters in Chateauneuf.

‘Attention Chateauneuf, Attention Chateauneuf. Répondre.’

No response. Static.

‘Attention, Chateauneuf. Attention, Chateauneuf ! Répondre!’

Still no response. Possibly the Van Luxemburgers jamming radio contact. He would have to try the telegraph line to Chateauneuf. Switching the machine to the wire modus, he attempted again, calling up the governor’s residence. But still, no reply came from the radio system, continuing to produce static. The line was dead. Just as he concluded that, he was called out to join his squad. The time was 2:02 in the morning.

In one movement, the vehicles began with their advance. The infantry had taken a seat in the IFV’s and APC’s, as well as the trucks that would drop them off well before the actual warzone. Ahead, the T-55’s provided an armoured spear that would be driven straight for the dam, with the M-84’s trying to flank the units that had recently captured the dam. The infantry would follow behind the T-55’s, their IFV’s and APC’s dispersing between the infantrymen and laying down fire on possible LMB positions.

This plan was indeed realised 15 minutes later. The troops, having disembarked from their trucks and armoured vehicles somewhat earlier, followed behind the armoured vehicles as they saw the column of T-55’s, the older Soviet tanks that formed the majority of the Dié armoured core and were mainly manned by conscripts, move into the open and accelerate in order to take the bridge by storm. The Dié forces had been unable to reach or cover the other side of the dam on time, so they would have to do with a one-sided attack only. Meanwhile, the M-84’s began their move on the dam from the left and right, as seen from the eyes of the Dié infantry. They would join up with the T-55’s in order to form a unified front close to the dam, but it had not nearly developed this far. First, the AFV’s would go in alone, before meeting up as planned.

Governor’s residence, Chateauneuf

‘Target left, 100 metres.’

The sound of the MG3 was still somewhat silenced, but it barely helped the soldiers to remain concealed. After they had shot the two police officers who came to inspect the residence, it only took several minutes before more troops arrived. This time, they were part of the guard component that was supposed to safeguard the center of Chateauneuf from riots and military actions, meaning it was rather well-equipped. They however suffered from their organisation, seeing that the troops did not arrive simultaneously, but in fact came in scattered groups, from various directions, probably because they all came from different locations around the town. This made it rather easy for the Draachentrupp soldiers, as they had centered themselves in one single stronghold, with enough firepower and ammunition to hold out for several days.

‘BTR, right, 200 metres. Can I get an AT man here!’ The MG3 gunner shouted, while swinging his machinegun around and aiming for the infantrymen that travelled with the APC. In fact, the gunner had mistaken a former JNA TAB-71 for a BTR-60, but there weren’t a lot of differences to begin with. Half a minute later, a soldier equipped with a Panzerfaust 3 rocket launcher arrived on their side of the roof, kneeling before aiming the Dynarange sight on the Panzerfaust, firing only seconds later. By now, the vehicle had closed in to around 150 metres, and was well within reach of the rocket, which hit the BTR straight into the side, ripping through the thin armour, designed to withstand 7.62mm fire. An explosion followed, even blasting away some of the infantrymen following behind the BTR.

Meanwhile, the MG3 had found new soft targets, approaching the building from the front, trying to cover behind walls and vehicles, suffering from the open space that was the square in front of the residence. The machinegun crew was unforgiving, and cracked down on every mistake the Dié troops made, no matter how slight they were.

Nevertheless, the troops would have to wait until relieved by the regular units, that’d cross into Dié territory as dawn broke.

27 May 02h08, Pathfinder LOP forward of the Barrage Perretoise

The camouflaged face of Commando Breymann turned towards Corporal Reddingius. His voice was pitched low, just above a whisper, because when you whisper you're never as quiet as you think you are. Engine noise and the clattering of tracks on the metalled road they watched would help mask his voice. "I count thirty-five so far. T-55, unknown subtype."
Reddingius nodded assent, as Commando te Lintum passed the report on to Romeo 9-3, this callsign being the intelligence team of Hartigan's command staff. Breymann held up a closed fist in front of te Lintum's face - as in the LOP, the three Pathfinders were very close to one another - and then spread his fingers. te Lintum amended his report. "- I correct: Four-zero T-five-five type tanks, estimate two battalions mechanised Infantry in tracked carriers. Acknowledge."

Neither Breymann nor Reddingius could hear Romeo 9-3's response over the radio headset. te Lintum depressed the transmit switch taped to the left shoulder strap of his webbing harness. "Romeo 9-3, Foxtrot-Victor 2-1. Good copy, out." Their job done, the Pathfinders kept scanning their sectors, alert for any odd sound, weapons ready, concealed under their infrared-opaque camouflage netting. They would keep watch for any reinforcements and would, when directed to, adjust artillery fire onto the Dié lines of communication and anybody occupying them, such as retreating troops or supporting formations. The ground, moderately undulating and well wooded, was almost ideal for Infantry, less so for tanks, but skilled soldiers would certainly be able to make a combined arms attack happen.

Thankfully for 2 Commando, Plaatische Luchtmobiele Brigade, these Dié were mostly conscript soldiers. The M-84 crews may be professionals, but it was the riflemen and junior NCOs of 183rd Mechanised Infantry Regiment who would have to be the highly professional troops to make an attack in this ground truly effective. Being conscript troops was not in and of itself a death sentence, but when sent against a prepared defence manned by the elite of the Royal Plaatische Army, it was certainly a severe disadvantage.

27 May 02h12, D Coy 2CDO Forward Positions, Barrage Perretoise Eastern Defensive Perimeter

"All stations this net, Romeo Nine-Three. Be advised: Estimate one tank battalion plus two mechanised battalions attacking your positions, time now. Advise Romeo Niner when contact is made. All stations are free to engage at One Niner and Two Niner discretion. Good hunting. Romeo Nine-Three out."

The first strike from the defenders was in the form of the antitank landmines skilfully hidden just under the surface of the rich turf surrounding the Barrage Perretoise. Due to the constricted nature of the terrain and the plan of attack, the T-55s and M-84s would be exposed to them first. These would immobilize but most likely not kill the enemy vehicles. The lighter IFVs and APCs may very well be destroyed by the powerful shaped charges, though again it was expected that only immobilizations would occur. An obstacle however is not an obstacle unless covered by observation and ideally fire, and the obstacle belts laid by the Luchtmobiele troops were ideal, as a Light Infantry formation must seize every possible advantage when attacked by a combined arms team. Thus, soldiers bent to the sights of their ATGM launchers, looking for tanks sporting additional radio antennae or anything fancy on the turret, such as add-in optical suites, remotely operated overhead weapon stations and the like, as these often were the hallmarks of command vehicles. They held their fire.

On reverse slopes, the loaders for L-16A2 81mm mortars hung bombs in the muzzles of their weapons. Peering through binoculars whose lens housings had been taped over with green tape, leaving mere slits to look through, a Captain from the weapons company of 2 Commando was amazed to see the Dié advancing on line, dismounted from their carriers. He took the offered radio handset from his RTO.
"Romeo One-Niner-Two, Romeo Two-Niner-Four, traffic."
"Two-Nine-Four, One-Niner-Two, go."
"One-Nine-Two, Two-Niner-Four. Contact, dismounted mechanised troops and tanks vicinity Target Reference Point Shaka Zulu. Request weapons free, over."
"Two-Niner-Four, One-Niner. Weapons are free, over."

The Captain, excited, didn't bother acknowledging. He turned to his RTO. "Put me on intra-coy, please." His voice was oddly restrained, polite in tone and content. His RTO did as directed and nodded, then his commanding officer's excitement burst through his cool exterior for a moment. "All Two-India-Four elements. Weapons free. Commence firing! Over." He paused as the first coughs of the mortars were heard, dropping 81mm bombs onto the Infantry following up the tanks to achieve one of the principles of defeating a combined arms offensive: separate the tanks and their supporting Infantry as soon as possible. The Captain stopped for a moment, staring blankly at his map before jerking his face back up towards his RTO. "Shit! Back on battalion command!" His RTO immediately complied. "Romeo One-Niner-Two, Romeo Two-Niner Four. I acknowledge. Apologies for the delay. Two-Niner-Four out." At the 2CDO command post, the radio operator heard the first antitank mine of the night explode and then the concussive drumroll of the mortar barrage, and thought simply: Well, no shit he got the message.

27 May 02h18, A Coy 2CDO Defensive Position, Barrage Perretoise Eastern Defensive Perimeter

The PaGW-7 antitank guided missile system is a rebranded Spike MR ATGM. Each Luchtmobiele rifle company disposes of a weapons platoon, which has a section equipped with three PaGW-7 launchers. Each Commando, with its four companies, has one weapons company. This weapons company carries an Antitank Platoon as part of its Tactical Organization and Equipment, otherwise known as a TO&E. This platoon has three sections of four PaGW-8 launchers, the PaGW-8 being a longer ranged Spike LR ATGM. Typically these weapons are mounted on light four by fours, be they jeeps or light trucks. However these weapons can also be deployed by Infantry elements, as they were now, and both the PaGW-7 and PaGW-8 are easily concealed in a properly dug fighting position. Commando Schagen watched M-84 tanks stream through two gaps in a treeline as they crossed Trigger Line Alpha, stretched his long fingers, and moved his head behind his PaGW-8's weapon sight. Already some of the M-84s and more of the T-55s had fallen victim to antitank landmines placed in a two hundred meter wide belt across Trigger Line Alpha, and the occassional tank was backlit by a 81mm mortar bomb exploding in the line of debussed Infantry and their carriers. It was a little unnerving watching these M-84s approach, their turrets swinging back and forth seeking targets inside their arcs, and Schagen assumed the M-84 tanks to be operated by professional troops, bolstering conscripts in the T-55s. This professional opinion of his was backed by the deployment; the professionals were either disdainful of the conscript's ability, as they had been thrown directly at the objective, or they knew to match the task and methodology to the quality of the troop in question, as the conscripts had been ordered to conduct a simple set-piece combined arms dismounted attack on the objective. The professionals then sought to turn the enemy's flank, potentially compress them into a tight mass, and then allow the more numerous T-55s and Mechanised Infantry to overrun and destroy them while the M-84s of the 761st attacked by fire.

Schagen no longer cared, as the missile indicated its readiness. He gave it two more seconds, keeping the crosshairs centered on his target - a M-84 that seemed to have one aerial more than it should, possibly a command vehicle - and then set it loose. It left the tube with a firm whoosh as the soft launch system shoved the missile out, then with a roar as the rocket motor kicked in. It immediately began tracking on the designated target - the PaGW-8 would trail a fibre optic cable behind it so the operator could switch targets, manually guide the missile to target if desired, or use it as a expensive and less than optimal reconnaissance device. This last useage was frowned upon in the KKvdPK. The PaGW-7 also had this option, though in Plaatische service it had been removed to further lighten the weapon. As the M-84s attempted to envelop the position from both flanks, the professional tankers were faced with twelve PaGW-8 ATGMs and twelve PaGW-7 ATGMs fired from a range of 2,100m. The loaders sprang up from their position in the bottom of the U-shaped slit trench the PaGWs rested in, hooked a new missile to the launcher, and slapped their gunner on the shoulder. Then they ducked back down beneath the camouflaged lip of the trench. Moments later, explosions loud and the light of blasts and fire strobing across the darkness of the battlefield, the second volley was launched. These missiles were directed at surviving M-84s or the leading T-55s, again the priority being any vehicles that appeared to be command tracks. The Spike MR and Spike LR's ability to fire and forget was quite useful, as was the infrared sight used for target acquisition and engagement.

27 May 02h20, B Coy 2CDO Defensive Position, Barrage Perretoise Eastern Defensive Perimeter

Trigger Line Bravo was set a mere five hundred metres from the furthest forward Plaatische positions. As the tanks reached this, the MG89 GPMGs, fitted to their tripods and T&E mechanisms, commenced firing on the dismounted Infanteers. They'd waited this long to fire because to commence firing sooner would have been to expose them to fire from the tanks - as indeed it still did, but the difference was that now there were far fewer tanks to fire and these were likely to be more concerned with locating and destroying the ATGMs. The entire Commando, a battalion equivalent formation, opened fire as one with their GPMGs. Nearly ten thousand rounds were expended in three minutes of controlled firing, machineguns not presented with targets to engage via enfilade firing indirectly onto the enemy through use of their T&Es and centralised, coordinated, rangecards. The mortars doubled their rate of fire for these three minutes as the enemy came across Trigger Line Bravo, and a veritable maelstrom of jagged steel and bullets was created, the grass moving in insane patterns from the blasts of mortar bombs, the passing of machinegun fire, secondary explosions as tanks brewed up, and other unpleasantries. It was now that Lieutenant McTaff went to work, a radio handset in each ear, one radio tuned to Commando command frequency and the other to Raven 0-9, the airborne Fire Control Officer who was part of the 20th Strategic Bomber Wing. McTaff was a Forward Air Controller, a man whose sole purpose was to make things explode spectacularly with the aid of the Luftmacht, or in this case, the RVVS. The Scots-descended Plaatzer was good at his job, moreover.

He clipped the handset of the radio on his left side to the shoulder of his BELCK and pulled his Personal Role Radio headset down over his ear. He had to shout over the sound of combat: "All designators, illuminate!"
"Ell-Dee One illuminating."
"Ell-Dee Two illuminating."
"Ell-Dee Three illuminating."
"Ell Dee Four is illuminating, sir."
He squeezed the transmit switch on the radio handset in his right hand. "Raven Zero-Nine, targets illuminated. Confirm request for laser five hundred, over."
"Keeper Two Nine, Raven Zero Nine confirms your request." The voice coming from the aircraft orbiting the battlefield from kilometres above was dispassionate, cold, the English precise. "Weapons released, over."
"Raven, Keeper. Drop, out." The right handset spoke into his ear again, though McTaff couldn't hear it over the sound of a 125mm or 100mm cannon firing and the constant chattering of machineguns.

With that, McTaff stuck his head out from the overhead cover he'd constructed in his fighting position and looked at the advancing enemy, such as he could see them through his night vision goggles. Dust hung over the battlefield, and a IFV presenting rooster trails of dirt as its tracks dug into the ground and threw it forward across the open ground suddenly disappeared. The concussion slammed McTaff off the back of his fighting position, beat him about the face and ears with blunt and heavy handed smacks, and the officer was gasping as he shouted into the radio handset. "Raven, Keeper! Splash! Targets destroyed, out!" Four KAB-500Ls filled with high explosives had landed directly on top of or immediately beside surviving tanks or IFVs. Laser Designator Four, under the command of Corporal Gerritsen, had directly illuminated some poor bastard who seemed to have a large number of Mechanised Infantry comrades near him. Surveying the scene, McTaff ducked as a machinegun raked his position and checked to ensure the radio on his left was still set to Commando CMDFRQ, as if the radio would have reset itself just to be petulant. McTaff sent a message that would result in five more KAB-500L bombs dropping on the remainder of the attacking forces between Trigger Lines Alpha and Bravo. "All stations this net. Keeper Two Niner. Company laser teams released to independent targeting. Coordinate through Keeper Two Niner. Out."