Second Chance War 34 Mcn: Fire Support Mission

Thomas spent this time quickly moving among the fallen, scavenging arms and ammunition. Some of the weapons needed a really thorough cleaning, their insides collecting mud and rain quickly. He set a few of the soldiers sitting inside the bunker to cleaning the weapons, they might need them sooner or later. He found several hundred rounds of ammunition amongst the dead. He added them to the several thousand rounds that were already in the armory inside the bunker, they could hold against a counter-attack if need be.

Thomas had some time to himself after he had done all he could in terms of preparation. He rested inside the bunker on an unoccupied bunk, someone had come through and cleaned the gore and blood off the floor, but there was still some on the walls. It is a grim reminder of what happened here, a tale most tragic. As he sat on the bunk he took a good look at all the other soldiers in the room. Some of them had upended the table that had been kicked down during the battle, although it had bullet holes in it, it still made for a decent table to play cards on. The smart ones were laying down on bunks sleeping while they could sleep.

Thomas was pondering his fate and perhaps how he could go back to his own timeline after this Monte Ca.s.sino bit was done. In fact, he had nearly forgotten that for him, this wasn't real. He'd fight and survive this battle only to end up going back to his timeline to fight an even bigger battle. A battle that could not be won with words or guns. The only way to win such a battle was to show results and there was more than one way to show the results they wanted to see. Not all of them were particularly pleasant for Thomas. Thomas wondered about Doctor Elaine as well, shortly before he came here, was she really promising him more or was he seeing something that wasn't there?

Thomas sighed to himself, he hadn't been with a woman for a long time, the women of Africa did not appeal to Thomas, nor were there any women to be had in Italy. Occasionally he'd get s.h.i.+pped back to the states for some R and R, but those were rare days in the Army. He spent those ones with his family. Speaking of his family, Thomas really missed them. Before he died, he had two brothers, one elder, one younger, and a little sister. Both of his brothers perished during the war, his elder brother was part of a tank crew. They had one of the good old Shermans, probably the worst piece of s.h.i.+t the military ever cooked up, but boy was it really fast. During the Africa campaign, Thomas learned that his brother Jonathan's tank took a hit from a Panzer and exploded after it detonated the ammunition racks. Of course, there weren't going to be any survivors from an explosion like that. It would be nigh on impossible, they gave Thomas the option to go home and grieve his brother, but Thomas knew he couldn't go back. Not if he wanted to honor his brother.

Just as Thomas was going to muse further, a soldier burst into the bunk room.

"Master Sergeant Conlin, sir!" The soldier was drenched from head to toe in rainwater, it pretty much cascaded down his helmet. Thomas bolted upright, he never even noticed that he had fallen asleep while musing about his life. Thomas looked at the soldier, he was a fairly young man. He barely had stubble on his face, he hadn't been growing facial hair very long or it just doesn't grow, but judging by the soldier's youthful look, he was pretty indisposed to think of the former. There was a scar running across the bridge of his nose, looked like he acquired it a couple years ago. On top of that were a determined set of eyes, maybe a little bit haunted as well. Thomas could almost guess that this young man was involved in a mission that took out most, if not his entire squad and left him with a daily reminder on top of that.

"What is it, soldier?" Thomas queried.

"Sir! Command states they have new targets available for tasking! German reinforcements inbound!" The young man saluted. Thomas was instantly wide awake.

"I want everyone on full alert! Not a single man idle! On the double!" Thomas began shouting and rousing the soldiers. It was time to fight, and they were going to bring the pain to the Germans. Shouts could be heard inside and outside the bunker as well as the sound of people rus.h.i.+ng here and there. The armory was cleaned of ammunition as it was sent to the various posts that they had set up after taking the bunker. Thomas walked out into the rain, it was worse than before if that was even possible. Now it seemed like a dim haze. The rain was so intense and sheet like that if it weren't for the illumination by thunder and lightning, you wouldn't be able to see two feet in front of you. Someone was kind and smart enough to set up a guiding light system in which you can follow various lights to get to places. Thomas went to the forward observation post by the two Pak-88s they had secured.

Thomas found the radioman there when he arrived at the forward observation post. He was currently taking shelter under a makes.h.i.+ft tent he propped over the radio so it wouldn't short out in the rain, they were made to be resilient against hard wear and tear, but you never know. The radioman saw Thomas and stood to salute. There were protocols against such a thing on the battlefield but in this rainstorm, it really wouldn't matter.

"Sir! Command reports a sizeable German reinforcement coming from beyond the Monte Ca.s.sino castle, the report includes a small armored column as well as two hundred plus ground troops. They have Panzer Three and Fours as well as two Tigers! We've been sent orders to be on hand for available tasking! The fleet is busy engaging in a fight with German remnants and a sub, sir!"

"Acknowledged, we'll be ready for it." Thomas gave the radioman a thoughtful look, tonight was going to be one busy night.

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"Alright listen up!" Private Quincy Ashton paid resolute attention to his sergeant as he laid the groundwork for this a.s.sault. He liked his sergeant, the man was fierce and capable. Sergeant Guthook he was called, no one really knew his real name. Guthook was something he had earned in the initial campaigns in Africa. He heard it had to do something with a fishhook or something that the locals used to gut the fish they caught at the oasis.

"Jerry thinks he can hide up in his castle all safe and cozy! We're going to teach them a lesson in how wrong they are!" Sergeant Guthook pointed at the castle in the distance that was briefly illuminated in flashes of thunder and lightning. It seemed more menacing and frightening in the dark, almost foreboding. "The plan is as follows, we are to link up with Squads Apple and Baker, the three of us are going to form a small company and our job is to find a side or rear entrance into the castle and ambush them while the main companies made of Charlie, Echo, Dog, and Fox a.s.sault the main courtyard. Hopefully, they won't know what hit them! Gather your gear, check your equipment, a.s.sault time in five, dismissed!"

Private Quincy double checked his gear and ammunition, he carried a standard M1 Garand Rifle just like most of his cohort. He had enough, well magazines weren't really the aptest description, since the M1 Garand wasn't magazine fed, but instead the bullets, of which there were eight, were part of a clip strip that you inserted at the top of the rifle in the chamber. Once the clip was spent it would be ejected from the top automatically and a new one could be inserted. He carried eight clips on him, plus the three magazines for his sidearm. Just like every other soldier here, he carried a Colt M1911 standard forty-five. It packed a punch and was very reliable, durable too. He made his equipment check and joined up with the rest of his squad. There were a total of five people not including Sergeant Guthook. There was Finch, Adams, McCoy, O'Leary, and Bryan. Together with himself and the sarge, they made up an atypical seven-man squad.

After forming up, they gathered with Apple and Baker, two standard squads of six with standard men. In total, they had nineteen men all armed to the teeth and every man was given a grappling hook. It was in the darkness that they slinked over to the castle amidst the hail of gunfire, shouts, screams, and smoke. Under the cover of rain and darkness, they found what they were looking for. On the second floor, a wall had crumbled leaving the perfect s.p.a.ce for grappling. Three of the men swung their hooks and tossed their grappling hooks, two latched on perfectly and the third bounced off. After another try, it was successful and latched on between some pieces of rubble still attached to the wall. Apple and Baker ascended on the three hooks while Sergeant Guthook and his squad circled around the back looking for another entrance, they found one on the back corner, a ruined tower provided ample access to the fourth floor. It was easy as one, two, three for this squad of seemingly elite troops to get the grapple on the first hook. Seconds later they are all ascending quietly to the fourth floor, on the way up they encountered a guard, but they quickly shot him. The sound of their guns was hidden by the din of fighting and the loud rumbling of the skies.

On the fourth floor, they kicked their grappling hooks off, no need to let any pa.s.sing patrolmen know they were here. It was in total silence with hand communication and signals that they swept through the fourth floor, they found a couple of important communiques in a stack of paper in what appeared to be an officer's quarters. They stashed them quickly as well as any plans or blueprints they came across. Having swept the fourth floor and killing any guards they came across, they proceeded upwards. Nevermind what Apple and Baker were up to, that wasn't what they were personally here for. On the fifth floor, they silence a couple of guards close up with knives. Private Quincy personally silenced one, he felt the cold edge of the blade enter the man's neck and sever his arteries, the blood spraying on to the hand he had covering his mouth was so warm in this cold and desolate night. It was a scene that he would personally remember for the rest of his life. How the young guard whose face he never even saw slipped through his hands, lifeless and gurgling his last as the blood just kept pouring from his neck. Just like that, he was dead, and Quincy had felt his first stealth kill reverberate through his being, a sacred and ancient ritual of blood and death. An affirmation to the soldier he is.

They moved on, the moment was gone, but Qunicy would always remember it. They found nothing on the fifth floor that would indicate a plan of some kind. The only way up was the roof, which compared to going back down to the third floor was much better. After all, the third floor downwards was filled with Americans and German Paratroopers fighting room to room. So up they went onwards to the roof. On top of the roof, they found two Pak-38s and of course some ammunition for it. They were pointed towards the front of the castle, but it looks like no one ever got to use them in this fight, or they were abandoned when the ridge got taken. Moving across to the back of the castle, they could see a cloud of dust and haze illuminated by thunder on the horizon. Sergeant Guthook took out a pair of binoculars and handed them to Quincy. Quincy had the best eyesight out of all of them and could see much farther in this perpetual darkness.

Upon viewing through the binoculars, Quincy discovered an armored column headed their way, German markings painted on the side, followed by scores of trucks, most likely filled with German troops. Someone had ordered reinforcements, either at the beginning of the fight or much earlier when they lost the ridge. Either way, Command had to be notified, the question was how could they do so. They rummaged through the equipment they brought, Adams had some flares and O'Leary had some red smoke, that could work. If combined with one of the Pak-38s they could create a colored fire that would alert command that something was up. After all, red was the signal for an emergency. Finch had the explosive expertise, they allowed him to jury-rig the Pak-38, after a few minutes he was finished, unless you were looking at it, you couldn't tell it had been messed with. Unfortunately, none of them brought any detonator wire or fuses with them, so with the exception of Quincy, who was their eyes, they all drew sticks. McCoy drew the short stick, they all saluted him as he saluted back. McCoy walked up to the Pak-38 and triggered the firing sequence. The Pak-38 exploded in a fireball of red that lit up the night with the help of the flare, red smoke visibly poured into the air, visible to everyone.

Someone reported the phenomenon to Command. Command then affirmed the existence of commandos in the area and sent someone to find out what the fuss was all about. Someone reported the German Armor inbound, someone else confirmed the report. The commando squad on the roof had completed their mission successfully, everything was up to Thomas and his crew. After all, the Pak-88s packed a bigger punch and had a longer range than the PAK-38s, even though both were technically anti-armor field guns.

When the coordinates were received, Thomas and his crew set the Pak-88s to work. Their mechanical whines and clas.h.i.+ng gears were a comforting sound to the men who crewed them. The field mortars that were set up were quite useless as even though they were on the ridge, did not have enough range to reach the column.

"Coordinates One-SierrNine-Nine-Two-Five received."

The artillery was adjusted accordingly with an error margin of one hundred meters according to the German metric they had to use. A sh.e.l.l was loaded, the breach was closed, they awaited their orders.

"Fire at will," Thomas commanded, and then the world went dark around him.