Chapter 11

Champagne France.

6:00 pm.

Every single bunker had been cleared out, the German Officers all stripped of their weapons, and belongings, the only thing present on them being their underwear.

"Tell me, why did we make them take off their clothes?" A random marine asked. "We've taken their trench, and massacred their subordinates. The king said the only thing left for these officers was to take away their dignity."

The Officers were all fearful for their lives, as the looked at the Marines holding their rifles, ready to fire on them at any command.

Areth emerged from the crowd. His clothes were stained with blood both from the enemy, and from himself, as he gave his Marines a calm smile. "Good job, boys. This battle will go down in the world's history books," he said, praising his Marines, before directing his attention to the enemy.

His smile turned much more sinister as he knelt down, getting on the German's level. "My men are itching to execute you. It would be an award for them, but me, well, I believe there is use for all of you." Areth's German was as fluent as someone born in Germany, with no traces of error.

"I look at you all, and see fat, worthless men that sent young children to die by our hands. This is the only mercy I'll give you. If I see you in the trenches again, we will burn you alive, and come after your families next."

Areth stood back up. "Release them. Let them run back to their command," he ordered. The officers present were dragged by their hair out of the trenches, tossing them into the mud with only their underwear. "Run."

They may not have understood the word, but they sure as hell did understand what the Auroans were doing. They began to run like hell, all of them in their minds hoping to never face such monsters again.

'I have to tell the generals.' If they could earn their Generals, and other officers about the ruthless, unstoppable force that was to come, perhaps they would pull back from the war, or at least deploy to some other area, away from Auroa's wrath.

August the third was the day the Auroan Marines earned the nickname "Dämonen des Schlachtfeldes," or in English, "Demons of the Battlefield."

And so the day passed, a major victory won by the Allies due to Auroan might.

August 4, 1915

Warsaw

Colonel Talos.

When The King's father told us about the three airdrops that would be flown in yesterday, we were expecting the standard military Cargo drops. What we didn't expect was the fact that when he said three cargo drops, he was referring to three drop areas, not the amount of cargo being deployed to us.

Nearly a hundred large airdrops had been deployed. It took our tanks to bring them back to Warsaw, and when we did, we were given a new challenge.

Making use of all the resources.

There were tens of thousands of MREs, ammunition for our rifles, and vehicles, and Blueprints for various fortifications, shelters, and that was only the first ten airdrop crates.

I was astounded by our Military's Logistics, and efficiency.

Immediately, and without hesitation, I called for my Officers, having them all gather around inside our temporary Headquarters, which was an old Russian Police Station. "We have a shit ton of supplies that have arrived. We have enough munitions for probably a year, alongside food, medicine, and various other essentials. What I need right now is for all of you to go back to your platoons, and find those skilled with cooking, building, hell, grab any Combat Medic, or person that's willing to assist with anything and everything that's needed. Are there any questions?"

A Captain raised his hand. "Sir, what exactly is the plan here? I understand you need workers, but what are we to do with them."

"I'll explain it once all of you have gathered them," I quickly replied. "Now go on. The Austrians should be marching on our position any time between today, and tomorrow." They left, doing as they were told.

August 4, 1915.

Warsaw

16:07

Nearly two tenths of the ten thousand soldiers deployed volunteered, offering their services where it was needed. The plan I had in my head was to secure the town, via fortified checkpoints at the entrances, treat the civilian's health inside, using the extra supplies we had gotten, and create a food program around here for them.

Despite being a military force occupying a foreign city, we did not want to seem like enemies, which is why establishing aid to them would be beneficial for having a smooth operation.

And so we began long day of work.

Construction was a thing that took time, and unfortunately for us, time wasn't on our side. Workers hastily followed blueprints laid out for us, digging large holes, before flattening it as best as we could, and creating a large enough shelter to house the majority of citizens when the fighting began.

While it certainly wasn't the biggest shelter ever, it featured a jet iron shell with pillars, and heavy concrete walls. The shelter could easily dispute any and all shock/damage brought about by artillery and other damage that could be dished out.

We let the concrete dry for the various fortresses we had set up, moving into the organization of patrols, and schedules for the watches.

August 5, 1915

Entrances to Warsaw had been closed the night before. The Abrams tanks were creating a wall of fire power around the entire city as sniper posts, bunkers, and checkpoints were maintained.

Down at the temporary headquarters, we waited any news we could get about the forces we'd be facing from a recon plane in the sky. The door to the makeshift command room swung open as a radio operator hurriedly ran in, bringing with him his radio pack. "SIR, HEADQUARTERS HAVE JUST VERIFIED THAT A FORCE OF NEARLY TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND HAVE COME FOR WARSAW!" He shouted, sweat dripping from his face as he did.

200,000 troops all coming for our head? It didn't make any logical sense. Why would the austrians send nearly a quarter million of their army for some small city? What was there to gain from such a large attack?

There wasn't time to think about such a thing. The best course of action for us at this point was to hold the fort. "Get to your battlestations, all of you. Make sure your radios are on, and keep us all in the loop. Notify the snipers that the battle is imminent."

The most worrying factor was whether I should keep the tanks in the front, or assign them to flank the enemy. If there was 200 mm artillery, or just explosives, it'd be dangerous to our Abrams, even if they were advanced machines, I wouldn't want to risk anything.

I grabbed my rifle, heading north to the first checkpoint, setting up my scoped rifle as I prepared for the impending battle that would undoubtedly unfold.