Off the coast of Miami, Florida on the NCN Liberator 52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpancv1usz7
August 11, 2133
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I watched as the port disappeared in the fog. I looked into the ocean below me, wishing I had stayed home. I sighed, my body shaking uncontrollably. A warm hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed it. I turned to see Staff Sergeant Tent. He asked me, “you okay?”
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I nodded, “yes Staff Sergeant.”
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Staff Sergeant Tent was our squad leader. He cared about us and put our needs first, no matter how ridiculous they were. I liked Tent, he had a good vibe to him and carried us under his wing. Unlike some of the other squad leaders, Tent didn’t put himself on higher ground than us. When something went wrong, Tent took full responsibility and even underwent the punishments with us.
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Daniels told me Tent lost a lot of his men during the Kentucky Invasion. Tent never spoke about his backstory or home life. We all had bets on what he did before becoming a Wilmington Ranger. Some of us said a doctor, teacher, or caretaker. Tent just, didn’t fit in with the stereotypical soldier. He had a vibe that wasn’t like the rest of us. I had a feeling about him, but I never told anyone. I thought Tent was too soft, but at the same time, I didn’t want him being hard on me.
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Tent smiled, “okay Kid. I got the boys downstairs for briefing if you want to come.”
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I nodded, “yeah. I’m right behind you.”
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I followed Tent below the Carrier deck. While we were walking through a bulkhead, Tent said, “I got a good feeling about this Rogers. We might be home before Christmas.”
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I smirked, “you never say that, Sergeant. Just jinxed us.”
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Tent opened the door to the briefing room and I took a seat near my best friend, Arron Bridgers. Arron and I went through basic training together and joined Devil Dog Division. We were battle buddies throughout basic, so I knew a lot about him and he knew a lot about me. I could trust him with anything. He grew up in a small military town outside of Conway. Both his parents were Wilmington Rangers and he wanted to follow in their footsteps. Unlike myself, he wanted to fight this war and volunteered. I just wanted to make it home and finish out my draft.
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Arron whispered, “you pumped for tomorrow?”
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I nodded, nervous as hell, “yeah of course.”
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He held out his hand, “hey-” I shook his hand and he said, “I got you covered, all day every day.”
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“Same to you.”
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Sergeant Tent stepped up to a podium and said, “good morning gentlemen.”
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We all responded, “good morning Staff Sergeant!”
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Tent nodded, “alright listen up.”
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Colonel Marshall took his place beside Tent, “I hope everyone got some good grub before we left port.”
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Colonel Marshall was our Divisions CO. He didn’t do much commanding in our squad, Third Squad, because we were the most disciplined. Marshall stood tall with broad shoulders and a large chest. He was built like a bodybuilder and shot like a seasoned marksman. One of the coolest guys I knew and I never even spoke a word to him.
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He turned on a projector that displayed an image of Creole Beach. There was about seventy-five yards of sand until it reached a wall of sand and concrete, most likely sand dunes alongside a sea wall. There was a system of winding trenches behind the sea wall that led into three towering bunkers. These bunkers were very large and had barrels sticking out of the top floor. Behind the bunkers were mortar pits, foxholes, and artillery pieces.
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Colonel Marshall pointed at the sea wall with his laser pointer, “the Feds have dug themselves in. There are a few machine gun positions along the sea wall along with two AT guns. Once these guns are eliminated, we can send in our tanks and crush any opposition on our way to the bunkers. The bunkers-” He pointed to the three bunkers, “are made of heavy concrete and fortified to the brim. There are Flak 220s stationed in the bunkers. These bastards will tear apart our landing ships. You’ll be underneath the guns once you touch sand, but before that it’s open season. Air support will ride in and take out artillery sections behind the trenchline. Once the bunkers are cleared, further airsupport will come in.”
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After the briefing, we ate lunch and chilled in one of the leisure rooms. Arron and I played cards while Bradley and Colin watched Tv. Bradley Daniels was a soft-spoken person. He never spoke up against a problem and followed orders with a quiet tongue. I didn’t know him, only we were both Privates. Colin was similar. Colin Lee just followed orders and didn’t question a single thing. I liked him, he seemed cool and played pool very well.
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Our Division was very large. Six squads with at least ten each. Our squad had sixteen people, me, Arron, Tent, Bradley, Colin, William Wick (Medic), Que Tenson (Sniper), Alexander Tripp (Rifleman), Zach Sanders(Radio Operator), Oscar Humphrey (Medic), Nicolas Irwin (Rifleman), Lukas Dempsey (Support Gunner), Timothy Higgins (Rifleman), Andre Morrison (Marksman), Daniel Marsh (Rifleman), and Henry Oakley (Automatic Rifleman).
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I didn’t know most of these men. In fact, I only knew their names and roles. I really only knew Arron and Tent. That was about it for my friends in Devil Dog Division. I didn’t plan on making many friends when I was first drafted. I was told by many people to keep my personal life personal. I aimed to keep that advice.
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That night, before the invasion, Tent kitted us up for the morning. We were scheduled to head out at 0600, when the morning fog was thickest. A flight of six A-10s would bomb the beach and bunkers, giving us cover on the way in and before our landing ships launched. This was the largest NCC invasion force that had ever existed. Three carriers, four battleships, and over a hundred thousand troops partaking. Most of which were drafted away from home. We were apart of the first wave.
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The night was quiet. Everyone was scared, but no one said anything. I wrote a letter to my mom while Arron read a book on the bed below me. He hit my mattress, “yo I got a question?”
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My gear swayed with the ship crashing against the waves. I grabbed it so I could look down at Arron without getting smacked in the face. I asked him, “what’s up?”
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“You got a girl back home?”
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I shook my head, “no. Just my mom and dad.”
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“Oh. I forgot. My bad… Well what should I get my girl?”
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“Her birthday?”
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“Nah it’s our third anniversary.”
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“Big three huh?”
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“Guess so. Got any ideas?”
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“A horse dude. Girls love horses.”
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“Damn. I was thinking of a ring or something.”
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“Nahh, fuck that. Go all out. Might not get the chance again.”
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“Aight dude. Imma head to bed-” He clicked his flashlight off, “goodnight man.”
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I nodded, relaxing in my bed, “goodnight.”
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In the morning, we geared up and went through a final briefing. The same as before, just a refresher. We loaded into an E93 and waited for the vehicle to drop into the water.
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The E93 was a small vehicle that could drive on land and water. The ramp was in the back, making it easier for guys to get out safely. It had an open top and only two machine guns for defense. Both of these guns had to be operated by one of the passengers, one being Daniels. I sat behind Daniels and gave him words of encouragement before we set off. He scoffed at me in response. Our E93 dropped into the water with a splash, and the driver started towards the beach.
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I could only see the two E93s beside us. I couldn’t see the beach and I couldn’t see the carrier once we drove thirty feet out. When one of the biggest things becomes unseen, you know you were hidden in your small boat. A-10s screeched overhead, making the brrt sound as they hit the beach with all of their armament. Henry fisted the air with a cheer, “go get ‘em boys!”
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Tent pulled his arm down, “stay down Corporal.”
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The E93 to our right exploded. Then I heard the round that just hit the E93. I dropped my head into my chest and clenched my fist. Tent yelled, “everyone down!”
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Bullets started hitting the water around us, but they all seemed to be shot randomly. Another screaming round hit the water, only a few feet from our E93. My heart raced, my mind scrambled, and my body shook. Henry poked his head above the E93 to see the beach. He said, “we’re only a few-”
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His body collapsed next to me. I rolled him over to see a bullet had blown his forehead off. I fell back on my butt in shock and covered my mouth from throwing up. Nicolas picked me up and yelled in my ear, “get up Ranger!”
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Another round hit Lukas, who fell but got back up. He shook his head, “shit Sarge what are we gonna do?!”
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The E93 collided with something in the water. We all fell forward, piling over each other. Daniels and Andre fired the machine guns as we tried to get up. Someone was crushing down on my right arm, sending a sharp pain to my shoulder. An artillery shell screeched over us, impacting the E93 behind ours. The destroyed E93 rammed into our ramp, blocking it from opening. The soldiers climbed out of their E93 and into ours. They were badly wounded. Some missing arms, others missing half of their face.
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Tent screamed, “over the side!”
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Before I could pull myself over, Nicolas fell on me. I rolled him into my lap to see a giant hole in his chest. His blood covered my uniform. I gently laid him to my side and climbed out of the E93. I was one of the last to climb over.
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I fell into a hole underneath the water. My boot was stuck on something in the hole. My head was still under water and after ten seconds of being stuck, I started to panic. I unsheathed my knife, ready to cut off my own foot to not die from drowning. However, someone grabbed my vest straps and lifted me out of the water and threw me onto the blood soaked sand. Tent fell down beside me and asked, “you good?”
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I nodded, “yes Sergeant!”
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He pulled me to a nearby tank obstacle and said, “we need to move up this damn beach and clear those AT guns! You with me?”
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“Of course Sergeant!”
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Tent and I regrouped with Oscar and Alexander one obstacle up from ours. Oscar held his guts in his hands and said, “don’t let me die here. Please don’t let me die here!”
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Alexander shook his head, “there’s nothing I can do Sarge!”
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“It’s okay!”
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I turned around to see a group of Rangers being gunned down by MG fire. Their limbs flew off and bodies jolted each time they were hit. Even when their bodies fell to the ground, the MG kept hitting them. I threw up in the blood soaked sand. Tent grabbed onto my neck and asked, “are you mobile?”
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I didn’t want to move but at the same time I didn’t want to stay. All I did was nod. Tent held Alexander’s shoulder, “alright. Did you see any of our guys?”
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He nodded, “they’re already at the sea wall. I stayed back with Oscar.”
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“Okay. We’ll come back for him-” Tent looked at me, “alright Rogers, grab Oscar's rifle and let’s move.”
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I didn’t even notice it, but I had lost my rifle in the water or left it on the E93. I picked up Oscar’s M4 and followed Tent to the next obstacle. On the way there, a hand grabbed my boot and pulled me down. I looked down at my boot to see a torso grabbing it. It was a Ranger. His legs were blown off, one of his arms were gone, and half of his head was sparked with fire. He screamed at me, “don’t leave me here!”
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I crawled away from the Ranger and bumped into Alexander. He looked down at me, “what the fuck are you doing Kid?”
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I held my head in my hands, “I’m sorry!”
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I couldn’t comprehend anything going on around me. I just followed Tent, and hoped he knew where he was going. I followed him until we reached the sea wall, where the rest of our team was waiting.
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They had already destroyed the AT guns, and armor support was on the way. Rangers kept dropping around us, some alive, most dead. Collin ran out to grab a fallen Ranger but was torn apart by MG fire.
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Tent yelled, “no one move! Stay put until armor rolls up!”
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A Ranger dove into the sand dune next to me and calmly lit a cigarette. The second after he blew the first plume of smoke, a bullet blew his head into a million pieces. Brain matter and bits of skull covered my face and even got in my eye. I quickly grabbed a handful of sand and threw it into my face. I tried to scrub the blood off with the sand, but it didn’t work.
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William grabbed onto my shoulders and twisted my head around. He asked, “are you hit?”
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I shook my head, thrashing around to get the blood off. He pinned me to the ground and said, “calm down. Calm down. Alex!”
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Alexander grabbed my flailing arm and told me, “Kid! Kid!”
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My nerves started to calm down. He continued, “we got you! I’m right here buddy.”
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William got off me and gave me a thumbs up, “stay strong Kid.”
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He left and went down the sea wall checking to see if anyone else needed help. Alexander looked over the sea wall and then back at the tanks. He looked at me, and a bullet went through his right ear and out of his left cheek. I could see the pain in his face. Like he knew what just happened. His eyes were full of pain, tears, and confusion. He fell and slid down the slope, blood squirting out of his head.
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I took a deep breath in, trying to stay focused. Tent crawled over to me and glanced at Alexander's body. He shook his head and then told me, “we’re pushing the trenches on our own.”
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I looked out at the armor to see they were stuck in the sand. Some tanks had their entire front armor dug into the sand like a duck looking for fish. Other tanks' engines ceased due to the sand clogging them. About six large hovercrafts that carried the tanks were sinking just off the coast. The other four that hadn’t landed yet were stuck on something in the water.
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We only had eight of the twenty-two tanks on the beach. None of them could move, they could only use their guns. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing. One Abrams fired it’s gun just above a group of Rangers that were laying down in a nearby foxhole. When the gun fired, it blew two of the Rangers out of the hole and one Ranger into the water. The two who landed in sand quickly found another hole, but the other one never came out of the water.
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I followed Tent down to the rest of our squad. Only Lukas and Timothy were there. Daniels held his arm with a pain streaked face. His entire forearm was blown off by a MG round. Tent nodded, “alright boys. Check your mags and prep for close quarters. Tim, got your ladder?”
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Timothy shook his head, “no Sarge. I dropped it on the LC.”
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“Fuck. Alright. Plan stays the same.”
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We crawled underneath the barbed wire and found ourselves in the trenches. There was a long pathway that led to the bunker. A Confederate soldier ran into the path and aimed his rifle at me. Timothy sprayed him with bullets before he could blow me away. Timothy snarled at me and kept moving. I followed Timothy to the bunker door at the base of the bunker. When we got there, there were already two Confederate bodies at the doorway.
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Timothy and I moved up the stairs to find one of our guys dead at the top of them. Timothy checked his vitals and sighed, “he’s gone.”
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He opened the door to the gun position. When he did, he threw himself backwards, dodging a hail of bullets. He said with his hands, ‘I need a grenade.’
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I grabbed one of my grenades and pulled the pin. I then tossed it to him and he threw it into the room. Once the frag detonated, he stormed in and fired four burts. Behind me, I could hear someone coming up the stairs. I called out, “Staff Sergeant?”
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The footsteps ceased. I asked again, “Sarge?”
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A head popped around the corner. I saw the gray collar and stepped to my left in order to square up with my target. I then shot him in the chest. His body fell backwards and tumbled down the stairs.
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Timothy yelled, “Rogers! Get your ass up here!”
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I froze. I had just killed a man. Another human being. Someone who was a son, a brother, or even a father. All I wanted to do was sit down and take a break. One, long ass break. But I needed to keep moving.
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Timothy yelled again, “Rogers! Get! Up! Here! Now!”
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I nodded, “okay. Okay.”
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I met Timothy at the gun position. He was trying to push the gun to the right. He looked at me, “help me out!”
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I nodded, getting beside him and pushing the gun to aim at the adjacent bunker. Once the gun was in position, Timothy adjusted the barrel and said, “load and fire.”
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I went to the rear of the gun and opened the chamber. I loaded a nearby shell in and slammed the chamber shut. I looked for a trigger, but I couldn’t find it. After a minute, Timothy asked, “what’s the problem?!”
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I kept looking for a trigger but still couldn’t find one. The firing mechanism of the gun was extremely complicated with levers, wheels, and gears. I told Timothy, “I can't find the trigger!”
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A shell whistled past us. I looked up to see the bunker we were aiming at was also aiming at us. Timothy yelled, “rope! Look for a rope!”
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I saw a cord dangling from underneath and grabbed it. I yelled, “fire in the hole!”
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“Fire away!”
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I yanked the cord and dropped to the floor. The gun fired, throwing the shell casing on my back. It rolled off and landed on the floor next to my face. I rolled the shell away and looked at our target. Timothy looked up as well.
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The front face of the bunker was falling into the trenches below. The gun was in the rubble, along with the bodies of the crew. Secondary explosions started going off in the bunker, causing the back face of the bunker to explode outwards. Timothy looked back at me with a smile, “hell yeah Kid! One more!”
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We rotated the gun to face the other adjacent bunker. A shell impacted with the bunker roof we were in, tearing some of the concrete off. Once our gun was in position, I reloaded it and fired.
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The shell hit the concrete below the gun opening, causing only minor damage. I reloaded it while Timothy adjusted the barrel. He yelled, “fire!”
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I fired the gun again. This time the shell hit their roof. Their shell streaked past our bunker. I loaded another shell and fired again. Our shell exploded inside the bunker. Secondaries started to go off, and so did the gun. While their gun was engulfed in explosions and falling debris, it fired. The shell hit the floor below ours. Timothy sighed, “that was fucking close.”
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I felt the floor beneath me rumble. Timothy looked down and looked back up with a terrified face. The floor underneath Timothy broke away and fell out of the bunker. I jumped forward and grabbed his hand before he fell with the concrete. It was about a forty foot fall. No one would survive that kind of fall. Sand would feel like asphalt when he hit the ground. Hopefully killing him instantly.
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I began to pull him up, but realized the floor underneath me started to give away. My adrenaline spiked, and somehow I was able to pull a 200 pound man with 120 pounds of gear up to me. He crawled off me and sprinted towards the door.
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I reached for one of the gun stilts and used it to pull myself away from the crumbling floor. I got up and ran to the door, jumping over a newly formed crack in the floor. I tripped on one of the large shell casings and pushed myself up. I turned around briefly to see the gun sliding towards me.
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I jumped down the stairs and sprinted as fast as I could. The gun broke through one of the interior walls, causing the staircase behind me to crumble in on itself. I ran out of the bunker and collapsed onto the ground. I rolled over to see the bunker falling towards me. I crawled to the side and into a trench. Debris and smoke filled the trench I was in. Once the smoke had cleared, I got a view of my situation. My legs were pinned down by two pieces of small concrete. Luckily, I could feel both legs and even wiggle my toes, which meant I wouldn't lose a leg. I pushed one piece off, but couldn't get the other off.
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Timothy found me and said, “hang on. I got you.”
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He and I lifted the last piece of concrete off together. He patted my shoulder and asked, “you mobile?”
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I nodded, “yep.”
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“Good. Tent wants everyone to rally at the sea wall. We got them on their heels.”
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I followed Timothy to the sea wall, where Staff Sergeant Tent was waiting. He looked at me with a smile and said, “good to see you boys. How are we on the wounded?”
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William jabbed a morphine injector into Lukas’ thigh and told him, “you’ll hold for now trooper.”
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Tent repeated himself, “how are we on the wounded soldiers?!”
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William sighed, “too many Sarge. Too damn many.”
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Tent nodded, “okay. We’ll spread out on the beach and find any of our guys, or anyone for that matter, and form an assault group. We have to take Creole before tomorrow’s sunrise. We can’t rest yet men, get to work.”
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I stayed with Timothy when he started searching the beach. We walked over hundreds of dead bodies. There weren’t many survivors. The ones who did were just barely hanging onto life. MG60s tore through your flesh like a machete through butter. Any kind of wound from a MG60 left you dead, or worse. The once white sand was now soaked in blood and explosive residue. It was an awful sight. Almost seemed unreal to me.
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I saw Daniel Marsh sitting upright, looking out towards the sea. When I approached him, he slowly turned around. In front of him laid Andre. The upper-half of his torso was gone, and blood squirted out of his stomach. Daniel, with tears streaked in his blood soaked face, shook his head at me. He pointed towards a hole and said, “there.”
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Confused, I walked towards the hole. In the hole I saw Arron. He was shot once in the chest, upper left side. He looked at peace, eyes opened and staring into the sky. I didn’t even think he was dead at first, but I saw bandages around him and morphine in his thigh. My friend was dead. I dropped to my knees and held my head in my hands. I started to weep. Zach found me and kneeled beside me. He told me, “he was a good kid.”
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Zach didn’t even know Arron. Arron was more than just a good kid, he was the best kid. The best damn kid I knew. And the motherfuckers took him away from me, away from his loved ones. All in a minute. He was gone. Just gone that quickly? I couldn’t believe it. I looked away, not believing it, only to turn back and see the evidence.
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Zach told me, “I have to strip his body for communications gear.”
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“Do you want my permission?”
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“I want your approval.”
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“Go ahead.”
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Zach slid down the hole and stepped over dead bodies to get to Arron. He ripped off Arron’s radio pack and climbed back up. He glared at me with a sad look and said, “I’m sorry. I know it don’t count for much, but I am genuinely sorry.”
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I went to Oscar’s body and saw that he had died of blood loss. I picked up the magazines laying around him, which had fallen out his vest when the round tore his stomach open. The MG60 fired a 14.8mm round. Two kevlar plates wouldn’t keep you safe from that.
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After replacing my 7.62 magazines with 5.56, I met with Timothy at the sea wall. He looked back at the beach and shook his head in disappointment. “How the hell are we supposed to advance without armor?”
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Zach stood up and told him, “they’ll have to be airlifted in. No way Command’s risking another amphibious departure.”
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Que walked up to us with blood soaked hands and empty magazines. His rifle had it’s bayonet attached, which was dripping with blood. Timothy nodded at Que, “you okay buddy?”
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Que nodded, “I hope someone pays for this. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
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Zach shrugged his shoulders, “Command does the paperwork, we do the groundwork.”
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Timothy rubbed his chin, “how many did we lose?”
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Zach sighed, “Second Squad was wiped out before they even landed. First Squad is pretty hit. We’ve barely got any men, Fourth Squad has six standing, Fifth Squad drifted to Cameron Beach and Sixth Squad got hit hard. Command says we’ll be getting more guys tonight, but that’s another fourteen hours. Scroll Division says they have to reinforce guys East of us, who got hit a helluva lot harder. We’ll be on our own.”
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Que said, “we won’t hold one counter-attack.”
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Zach continued, “I got on the horn with some CFR Black Op guys East of Creole by mistake. They said if they can, they’ll come cover our flank. And if Scroll comes back in time we might have a few more guys to spare.”
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Timothy told him, “well we got flanks all around us. The Feds know this area, we sure as hell don’t. Scroll Division won’t do us any good if those boys out East are hit harder than us. They’ll be permanent over there.”
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I asked, “can’t we call for air support?”
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Zach shook his head, “five of the A-10s went down. We won’t be getting any more air support or reinforcements. Too risky.”
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Que, “which means they won’t drop in tanks either.”
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Timothy kicked the sand, “did we just fucking lose?”
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Que chuckled, “let’s see how the evening goes first.”
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I settled into a foxhole just outside of the trench in one of the cotton fields. I was partnered with Daniel, who spent the whole day sleeping. I was subjected to guard duty. Every small movement made me want to call out. With only a few guys, we had to make the most of our force. To do this, Tent took a lot of the empty helmets laying on the beach and posted them on sticks in the trenches. The helmets just barely poked over the trench. This made it look like we had more men than we actually had.
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We had about eighty wounded. Some were from our Division, while others were from the other two Divisions that landed with us. Apparently, Scroll and our Division were the only ones standing on Creole beach, with not many Rangers standing. Dixy Division was completely wiped out. Only one of their E93s hit the beach and it was one of the first to do so, leading to almost everyone on board suffering a terrible fate. Dying alone.
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Around 1400, I saw plumes of smoke approaching us. It looked like exhaust fumes from a truck. Then I heard the low rumbling of a personnel carrier, and that’s when I got worried. I turned around and called out to my Division, “contacts!”
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