Summary: The third section of Montebourg, from Anon's perspective this time around. We sat around the tanks for a while, smoking on our cigarettes and doing our best to bury our hatchets as we thought our way through the immediate issues ahead of us. Issue number one was easily solved: Dog Company. Fang and their friends could pretty easily take care of rescuing them with a smidgen of luck. That was the simplest part of this whole mess ahead of us. Meanwhile, I was still trying to figure out just where the hell the German shitboxes on treads were coming from. I'd wandered the right flank for a couple of the resets already, but I figured they were still farther forwards from where I'd been. Further recon was going to be required, and I just honestly told the three amigos that I had little idea of how long that would take by myself; it was a lot of ground to cover. Which led us into issue number two: not dying to the massive German counterattack. That took precedence over the actual capture of Montebourg for the moment, considering the fact that if any of us bit the bullet, well, we'd end right back up here. So yeah, that needed to be avoided at all costs. Issue number three was, of course, capturing Montebourg and the road, but that was a distant third in comparison to the other two issues. That was… about as far as we got, unfortunately, before Captain Mckay called for Fang, Trish, and Reed to go bail Taggart and Dog Company out of their issues, so we put a temporary pin into the conversation. While they moved off to go rescue Dog Company, I got my own kit back together, and waved down the Captain. Mckay gave me a nod, as I approached, my rifle slung over my right shoulder. “Needed something, Sergeant?” I gave Mckay a nod in return, and then gestured off towards the far flank. “Yessir. I'm going to get started conducting recon off towards the road, to make sure that what happened to Dog doesn't roll over into Able, Captain.” Mckay considered it for a minute, then nodded. “Go. Grab a squad radio from the supply and keep it active. If you see anything big, send it up to us, here. Let's not walk into another ambush.” “You got it, Captain.” I nodded, waving Mckay a two-fingered salute. Without a further word, I moved off, back towards the depot where I snagged up the aforementioned radio pack. I'd seen a couple of similar models in movies and video games, but neither of those really prepared you for how awkward the thing was to have shoved on your back. Regardless, I tuned the set to the company radio channel, and after un-slinging my rifle, slid the set onto my back. That done, I grabbed my Springfield back up, and set off out of the rally point. Fang, Reed, and Trish had already moved out by that point, so I didn't bother looking around to wave goodbye to them, I just set off towards the far right. I'd already done my due diligence marking out some of the positions I'd seen on said flank - AT guns behind hedgerows, machine guns in houses, and mortars behind sandbags; that sort of thing. But no German tank spam like it was a shitty rip off of Command and Conquer. Actually… This being a video game would explain a couple things. I nearly slapped myself in the face for not considering that before. Duh. I wonder if any of the others have thought of that yet. Maybe something to chat about while bored, when we get back onto the march. In any case, something to file away for later, not for right this minute. I re-focused on my original task, as I slipped between the German defenses along the right flank. So long as I kept low, didn’t draw attention to myself, and didn’t walk expected paths - like directly in front of a machine gun’s position - I was okay. Yeah, it meant I had to pick my way through some of the hedgerows and that was a fuckin’ nightmare and a half, but I was keeping quiet and making good movement forwards. I watched silently as the AA gun tank rolled by me - a scant few feet from my current hidey-hole and close enough I could hear the crew of the open top panzer talking idly in German - which meant that Fang and their friends were probably at Dog Company’s position by now. That thought was reinforced by the introduction of tank and heavy machine gun fire to the skirmish I was hearing play out to my front left. I began to pick up my pace. Only a matter of time before they hit Montebourg proper, and things began to go to crap in a sack. Creeping past the retreating flak panzer, I continued along the flank and parallel with the town, until I had to come to an immediate halt as one of the hell panzers crashed through a hedgerow a few feet to my left, followed by another one to it’s left and a fucking third to it’s far left. Holy Fucking Jesus. I dove for the ground as a fourth fucking panzer crunched through the hedgerow I was pissing myself in, off to my right. It occurred to me that these tanks were coming from somewhere to my front, because I’d only just about heard their engines crank over and churn forwards. They had staged from around here - or at least, some of them had. Four panzers was a far cry from the twelve that had rolled up to the HQ to come skullfuck me, but that was four more than I’d known the starting positions of previously. I didn’t dare key my radio pack, as the tanks lumbered past me and down the flank - towards the company rally point. Weird how they were completely ignoring the town, but I figured that the company command post was a much juicier target to them than a couple tanks and an infantry platoon. The tanks finished passing my line of vision, and so I cautiously stood back up, and continued on in the direction they’d arrived in. Creeping my way slowly up a small hill and towards another large french manor - this one surrounded by high walls, a copse of trees, and the hill itself - my eyes widened as I watched a bunch of German infantry milling about. They were fiddling with machine guns and AT guns, counting mortar shells, and, yes, working on field repairs of various German tanks. These fuckers had a whole-ass forwards base over here, the bastards! I remained low and quiet, like a good scout should - even though the pair of kraut officers talking over a map and pointing at several places on said map were juicy fucking targets - and began to shimmy my way out of the direct line of the German field HQ. Doubling back towards allied lines, I stopped in the shade of an abandoned barn, and unslung the radio pack. Turning it on by flicking the switch and retrieving the attached field phone, I raised it to my mouth and - === I blinked, looking around in confusion. Wh- had the others wiped? I hadn’t heard any gunfire from their direction… Re-centering myself, I jogged over to the sherman they usually stood around in the rally point, and waved to them. They seemed as confused as I was, which was… new. “Did any of you guys die?” I questioned, as the trio shook their heads. “Nah bro, we’d assumed you had.” Reed, the velociraptor, shrugged. I shook my head in return. “No, actually. I’d just been about to radio back to you guys; I found some stuff while out on the right flank. Whole ass German HQ with tanks and shit.” “Huh.” Trish frowned, scratching her chin. “You know… We did hear tanks and gunfire from behind us, back towards the company rally point. We kinda assumed that you were being attacked again, but if you were out on the flank…” “Oh shit,” I began, blinking. “Like four of those tanks did leave their field HQ to attack something, I wonder if they came and attacked the rally point?” “I mean…” Fang began, tapping a finger against her snout. “Maybe? But why would the guys over here dying cause us to reset?” “Dudes, we talked about this. It’s video game rules, right?” Reed questioned. Oh, I guess they had figured it out before me. I wonder what sort of games Reed played, idly, as he continued - he seemed the most likely out of the three to be a gamer, shortly followed by Trish, who I could very easily see in a Molten Warfare Two lobby, screaming racial slurs into a crappy microphone. Good times. “I bet that counts as our base or something. And everyone knows that if you lose your base in like, RTS games, you lose, period.” Oh shit. He was right, too. “Fffffuck. So not only do we need to secure the road and protect the convoy, but we have to defend our base now too?” I voiced all our worries aloud, as Fang winced in agreement and Trish groaned in frustration. I felt that, smalls. On like, a deep, deep level. Defense missions sucked. Right up there next to escort missions. Ok, maybe the purple little shitling wasn’t all that bad. Maybe. “Well, we’ll have to figure that shit out then, ugh.” Fang sighed, shaking her head. “We’ve still got a couple minutes before Mckay complains about Dog Company, do you guys have any thoughts?” She questioned, sliding down the side of the tank to a sitting position on the ground, and unfurling her wings carefully - so as not to slap anyone - in a sort of stretch. Dang, big wings. I blinked, and turned my attention back to the group. “Well…” Trish hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. “Let’s start with what we know, I guess. Skinnie. Er. Anon?” I nodded, and didn’t gripe about the slur. She’d corrected herself, which was… more than I’d expected, honestly. “How many tanks did you say came out of the woodworks at the base, a couple of wipes ago?” I thought about it seriously, doing some mental math in my head. “Probably eleven or twelve, I didn’t get a perfect count.” I replied. “Some came straight down the road, I’m surprised you didn’t run into them actually - some came from the right flank, and some came from closer to the left flank.” “So they all probably came from that headquarters, or past Montebourg proper.” Reed added, as Fang traced a map in the dirt with her combat boot. “Wicked.” He added, nodding to himself. “Lotsa tanks to bully us with.” “Yyyeah.” I frowned. Trish Frowned. Fang frowned. Reed just shrugged. We moved on. “In any case, they all looked pretty much the same. Kinda boxy, beige or tan camouflage patterns. Turret. Machine gun up top. Armored skirts covering the treads and the turret. Long-ish gun.” “Cool.” Reed nodded, taking in the information. “Sounds like either a Panzer Four or a Panther, then. Was the armor at right angles, or slopes?” Ah, a connoisseur of Eurasian tank game entertainment. Nice. “Uhh.. Flat, I think. Aside from the turret, it had some shape to it. I didn’t get a great look though, because of the turret skirts.” “Word, it’s probably a bunch of Panzer Fours, then. Seventy five millimeter guns designed to shoot tanks. Okay armor. Not the greatest, but they’re a good match for our shermans.” He hummed. “Do we have any other type of anti-tank weaponry?” Fang cut in, with a nod of her own. “A bit. We kept some of our bazookas from Carentan, as well as one of those German AT guns we recovered. I think Mckay has a couple of his own too, sitting in the armory pool.” “That'll work.” Reed nodded. “We don’t have a lot of time - “ He paused, as Mckay called for them to go forwards. “Or no time at all. Crap. Okay. Uh.” He froze, and we could see the gears mentally turning in his brain. Fang bailed him out with their own plan. “I got it. We’ll rescue Dog. We’ll capture Montebourg, then immediately double back to report back to Mckay about clearing out the town. Hopefully we’ll hit some of the panzers in the rear but our real intent will be to break through the German tanks and regroup back at base. Anon, see if you can get the AT guns set up to see off the German tanks. It’s scratchy but it’s all we have time for right now.” “It’ll work.” I gave them a thumbs up, which caused Fang to blink in confusion - and then blush for half a second - before Mckay really got onto our asses to get moving. So we did, setting off in different directions. I made the pretext of doing some scouting again to Mckay, who once more signed off on it, and I crept out a little ways towards the front. I wouldn’t be going all the way to the German Field HQ again, but I would be spending enough time out there to make my report back to Mckay believable. I moved forwards for a bit, keeping my bald head low to the ground as I waited for - yes, there it was. I watched the flak tank move towards Fang’s platoon and Trish and Reed’s tank squadron, and watched through my scope as they took it down like clockwork - and took down the rest of the Germans with it. There were still friendly casualties, but a minimal amount, which was pretty good for a rapid firing AA gun on treads rolling up to fuck your day. Okay. Time to move back to the rally point, while they moved onto capturing the town. Speed was of the essence, here. Jogging my way back to the rally, and dodging as many Germans as I could as I went, I gave Mckay a quick salute. “Captain, we've got a problem on the flank.” “Report, Sergeant.” Mckay nodded, as he continued directing the rest of Able Company’s troops that were still formed up at the rally point. It was… not a lot, mostly just the reserves from the fourth platoon that weren’t on active combat duty currently - so engineers, and the like. “Sir there’s a whole crap ton of German armor bearing down on us from the flanks, past the town. Krauts have a whole ass headquarters set up in a Manor up on that hill to the right of Montebourg, and they’re dug in like ticks. AT guns, MGs, mortars, and more tanks.” “Fuck. Okay, I’m recalling the infantry for the moment. Good catch, Sergeant.” Mckay swore, then waved over his adjutant with the radio pack. I breathed a sigh of relief, as Mckay did in fact recall all three platoons to the rally point. He then jabbed a finger in my direction. “Sgt. Mous, rouse up the fourth platoon and get our AT guns out of the depot. It’ll be a minute before the front gets back to us.” “On it, sir.” I nodded, and turned to run and do so, barking orders and volunteering platoon members who weren’t already working - and honestly a couple that were, as well. This was much, much more important. Moving the twenty-some odd troops of fourth platoon into action, we rapidly sited the AT guns to watch down the road and our flanks - and not a moment too soon, as the Kraut panzers - supported by those weird boxy tanks without turrets as well - tore through the currently lightly defended flank and towards our field headquarters. Oh shit. The platoon began to open up on the large smattering of nearly fifteen fucking tanks - holy shitballs - as I dove for cover behind one of the AT guns and it's teeny little flimsy metal shield. The gun's crew panicked themselves, flinging a fresh shell into the AT gun and ripping the firing cord like their lives depended on it. Which. Yeah, okay, maybe it kind of did. Regardless, one tank was knocked out, as the others just kept spraying their machine guns and shooting tank shells. Two of the four AT guns I'd hastily cobbled together were knocked out - one by a cannon destroying the gun, one by a machine gun slaughtering the crew - though the hapless soldiers did claim a second tank kill. Raptor Jesus provided a fucking miracle though, in the form of Trish's Sherman group moving at full fucking ram speed directly into the ass of the German tank formation - no, literally, her fucking tank ran straight into the ass of a German panzer with a weighty metal clang. The German tank in question missed it's lined up shot by a damned mile - as one would expect when a several ton war machine slams into ones’ hindquarters - and didn't have much time to do anything else as a follow-up shot from one of the other two shermans knocked it out of action. Trish's Sherman, using the wreck as cover of a sort, starting firing at the other German tanks as well, and slowly but surely we began to thin the horde of Nazi tank spam. With their tanks quickly becoming smoldering wrecks, the remaining German infantry that wasn't getting plastered by Fang and the other Sergeants’ returning platoons began to retreat in the direction of the German field HQ. For a moment, we all sat quietly, around the rally point. Kraut tank wrecks were literally everywhere; twelve of those panzer four things Reed had mentioned, as well as three of the boxy turretless ones that were apparently called Stugs, or something. Mckay waved myself, Fang, and Trish over - and Reed followed, probably not wanting to be left out. Even Mckay looked exhausted at this point. According to our watches it'd only been about an hour since we showed up in Montebourg. Between this and all the resets though, it'd felt like a day already. Mckay took a moment to compose himself, then began talking. “Good work, everyone. That was… that was a bit rough. Take a couple minutes and get reorganized. Sergeant Mous, take Sergeant Aaron's platoon, and Sergeant Jones’ tank Squadron. Once you're formed back up, you're going to take and destroy that Jerry Field HQ. I'll have second and third platoon move back up to Montebourg. Dismissed.” And then he walked away, sitting down on a small pile of rubble to catch his own breath. Damn. I shared a look with Fang and her friends. “Okay. Well. The Germans are uphill from us, and dug in pretty well. I'm open to ideas.” I shrugged, as Fang lit themselves a cigarette. “Blow the shit out of it with cannons and whatever else we can scrape together.” The pterodactyl finally said, after taking a minute to compose themselves. “And then fucking cry, because we still have to capture that fucking road afterwards.” Oh. God fucking dammit. [NOTES] And they STILL haven't gotten to the road or the Field HQ. Poor dweebs.