Marsh Silas IIS: Squad Stories

Chapter 8

The supply depot sat on one of the auxiliary routes off the MSR which ran from east to west. Both vehicle gates, one on the western perimeter and the other on the eastern side, were flanked by two squad guard towers. Twin-linked Heavy Stubber barrels poked out from each one. Unlike a forward operating base, firebase, or other large outpost, the depot was protected by high steel fencing tipped with barbed wire instead of rockcrete walls.

A repair shop, office building, a barracks, a subterranean fuel dump, a motor pool, and two large refueling stations were arrayed within the fences. All the lights were on, casting an amber and white aura over the camp and parts of the road. Figures clad in Flak Armor or other armor patterns patrolled the fences, stood in the towers, or guarded the facility entrances.

But Walmsley Major guided his magnoculars to the eastern gate. Underneath the guard tower closest to their position was a bunker. From this angle and utilizing the Nighteye feature of his scope, he identified a Bombast Cannon. It was a conventional but highly effective artillery piece, capable of scattering infantry and knocking out vehicles.

"We can't bring in the Taurox Primes if that AT position sits there," the platoon sergeant whispered to Marsh Silas.

"I know, but we cannot stage the assault until our observation aircraft confirm the building with the hostages," Marsh said back without lowering his scope.

During the briefing, Marsh had planned to stage a two pronged attack on the depot. The infantry would circle around to the west and attack the weaker gate Namgung and his platoon of Taurox Primes would smash through the eastern gate. The sharp nature of the attack would surprise the defenders and divert them in two directions. Unable to bring their strength to bear, they would become easy targets. Bloody Platoon would then swiftly clear out the facilities and secure the hostages.

Although the briefing acknowledged the bunker's presence, it did not denote what kind of armaments it possessed. An anti-tank position directly on the path they needed their armored support to advance along would result in needless casualties or negate their armored support entirely. Artillery support was on standby but a direct fire mission against the bunker would alert the defenders and endanger the hostages.

Walmsley Major raised his magnoculars again and studied the southern fence. They were over two hundred meters away from it, prone on a berm, waiting for the confirmation from their supporting aircraft. The barracks and garage were on this side of the depot. Both were large buildings with many storage containers around them. Only a single guard patrolled back and forth along the fence and the tall, industrial lights which bathed the camp were not directed at it.

"Sir, that fence is a perfect blind spot," Walmsley Major said.

"I see it. What do you reckon; a small team?"

"Aye. I'll take a few men in, neutralize the patrol, take out the sentry tower, and then hit the bunker."

"It'll be loud. We don't want to trigger the assault too soon."

"If we time it right, the column can smash through the gate moments after we take out the bunker."

Marsh Silas was silent for a time. Walmsley Major looked over at his commanding officer and friend. Past him was the rest of Bloody Platoon. Every single one was prone on the crest of the berm, their helmets bearing Nighteye Goggles. Each one was studying the target area. A small team at the rear pulled security while skirmishers guarded their flanks.

He knew the platoon leader was thinking of the hostages but also the risks to the platoon itself. This was not cowardice or anxiety. Walmsley Major had known Marsh Silas since they were Whiteshields—the man recognized the costs. The Cadian Knight truly learned that after enduring the Siege of Kasr Sonnen. But he was not going to risk or spend their lives frivolously. That was a part of his glorious vision of a better Imperium; commanders, from the highest generals to the newest platoon leaders, were going to hold the lives of their soldiers in greater respect. They had a responsibility to ensure their lives were not given up for an unjust cause or vanity, pride, and arrogance, or born from the idiotic, mindless traditional tactics employed by fossil generals. He trusted Marsh Silas with his life.