Tale of The Broken Sword

Chapter Ten : Battle of Esmerelda - Rise and Fall

27th June, AD 1656

Southern Cordon, Esmerelda

The Grenadiers came in hard and fast against the Aurelian forces even if the latter had an advantage against their foes. As much as Krom hated these bastards to the very end of his heart, he would also admire his opponent on their bravery of acting even under enemy fire. They didn’t even turn back to help their fallen friends, and instead, they charged forward with a strong intent to kill their target. A moment later, they were at the edge of the mud and some of them were leaping in. The other cleared the trench with rifle fires and satchel charges thrown into pillboxes and enclosed bunkers.

One of the bunkers exploded in a violent mess of human body parts. Everent though that the men could not get out of it in time and finally accepted the concrete building as their grave seconds before the charge exploded. He shook his head to get rid of all those gruesome thoughts and glanced along both of the trenches.

On either side, the Grenadiers flooded into the trench like rats, battling with the Shock Troopers. There were just too many of them coming in too fast to stop them all. Gunfire bursts out all around the group, and Everent hugged the trench’s wall to avoid the worst of it.

He glared at the eastern end of the trench and he saw a lone shock trooper stabbing his enemy with his bayonet. The poor grenadier fell onto the ground, possibly dead before his face had even touched the surface. The soldier triumphantly thrusts up even further before he was brought down too, by a bullet in his head.

Krom glanced behind him and saw the exact same thing happened on the western trenches. He opted to do what was right and the only responsible thing when faced with such odds.

“Retreat back to the second Line!” The lieutenant bellowed amidst the screams of other soldiers. “Fall back!”

Facing out of the no-man’s land, right would be to the north-western trenches, away from the bulk of the invading Grenadier forces. If the lieutenant can gather as many men as he could, they could find a better ground to make a stand against the grenadiers and the tide of battle could change in their favour. Otherwise, poor visibility and chaos among the Shock Army could be the demise of the first Line and possibly, the entire defensive perimeter.

As he ran towards the direction to the north-western trenches, he stumbles across the corporal named Guthren. He slapped the man on the shoulder and pointed for him to move, but the soldier refused to move his weapon from where he had it attached to the rail of the trenches lip.

Krom slapped the man again, this time on his face.

‘I’m not retreating, you fuck!” He yelled at the lieutenant and kept on pulling the trigger of his long machine gun.

Krom recognized the defiance in the corporal’s eyes. He’d knew that the fight for honour and chivalry had been too deeply ingrained in the minds of their own soldiers for even its best men to ever surrender them.

Krom slammed the corporal’s face with the butt of his rifle. “You wanna die in here? Retreat dammit!”

The other soldier smiled at that and lowered his rifle. As he did so, a long chain of bullets slammed into his chest and drove the poor soldier into the ground. After contemplating for a moment, the corporal hastily left his weapon attached to the ground and marched quickly along with the lieutenant as they entered into the north-western trenches.

By the time they had reached there, Everent and Heimman were giving orders and calming words to the ones who’d’ survived the initial battle.

“Sir,” Everent gave a salute to the lieutenant. ‘Your orders?”

Krom looked around him, all of them strong and dependable and most of all, willing to die under the direct orders of their respected lieutenant. He would realized the loyalty of the soldiers towards the nations cause could be their greatest strength and it could be their worst weakness.

“Alright, we’re taking the fight up in the hill over there,” He pointed to the underlying hills overlooking the entire battlefield. “We’ll get an advantage in terms by viewing the entire battlefield. See what going on the southern side of this line.”

“Sir, the 12th Skyship Battalion has just entered into Esmerelda’s airspace. They’re arriving in twenty-minutes.” A man lunged into the intersection where Krom and the rest of the unit gathered around, a radiographer who’d happened to stumble upon Krom’s current location.

“Heard that? Help’s on its way. Hold out this line for twenty minutes!” The lieutenant rallies among his own men.

Minutes later, they were all scattered around in bunkers situated on the high grounds. Some of them, including Krom and Everent have yet to reach to their planned positions. Suddenly, a barrage of bullets slammed into the muddy walls of the trench behind them. The resulting force drove Everent falling onto the steep steps of the trench.

One of them ricocheted off the lieutenant’s helmet and it fall off into the darkness. Krom sprawled onto the ground, stunned; he reached up to wipe the water and mud away from his face. His hands came away covered in his blood, the red liquid blending in with the black dirt. His ears rang so loudly that he’d wondered if the bullet had had turned his helmet into a bell.

Krom shook his head and to try to clear it but he failed. He stared down at one of his own men lying dead on the floor and covered in the pool of blood, Krom wondered if this could be his last battle against the Empire as he might die soon enough at this rate.

Krom flopped over onto his back and saw a Grenadier soldier standing over him, the tip of his Büchse-Gewehr rifle still smoking. The grenadier pointed his weapon down at Krom, tightening his finger around the trigger.

Krom had lost his rifle when he’d fallen, but he’d still have his AP5 pistol in his belt holster. He instructed his hands to grab hold of it and to draw it out from the holster, but he knew that he’d be dead long before the gun barrel had even cleared its leather casing.