Chapter 7
August 1, 1915.
Three months after Auroa's declaration of war.
On the Eastern Front.
The atmosphere was at an all time low, as the smell of rotting corpses, mud, and shit lingered in the air, creating a terrible aroma for the already demoralized Troops of the Russian Empire.
Orders had been issued nearly a month ago, calling for the retreat of Russian Soldiers from Warsaw, and it's neighboring cities. The strategic retreat was to make sure that large portions of under equiped Russian soldiers did not risk getting encircled by the austro-Hungarian forces.
It was a smart decision by The Russian Generals, however, it ignored the thousands of civilians living there, forfeiting their lives to the enemy.
The Russian Soldiers were exhausted. They had been on the run for days, getting little rest at all. "When do you think those Auroan Soldiers will be arriving?" A standard Russian grunt asked, before taking a swig from his rusted canteen.
"Hard to tell. They have to come up all the way from the south. I doubt it'll be anytime soon," another replied before continuing. "Besides, their vendetta is against Germany, not Austria."
"What's the difference?"
One hundred miles away from Warsaw.
Colonel Eden Talos POV.
Deployment had gone smooth so farm nearly a thousand of the finest Tanks, and armored vehicles designed by our great King had been supplied to us, alongside M14 Rifles, bulletproof vests, and bulletproof helmets.
Admittedly, me and my men were a bit skeptical of the reliability of said vest and helmet, but were shut down immediately once King Vendencia Dawned his own vest and helmet, and took round after round, going all the way up to the highest caliber the army had.
One thing was for sure, King Vendencia had balls.
Our tanks, M1 Abrams were at the front of the large, hastily paved road. Our Mastiff armored vehicles stayed behind them, protected from gun fire, not that it'd do much against our vehicles.
The drive to Warsaw really put in perspective how ahead of every other nation our country was.
Our king had already revolutionized warfare, creating the Tank, bullet proof vests, helmets, creating reliable, affordable semi-automatic rifles, and inventing our Navy's "Sonar."
But those were achievements I should not boast about, considering they were not my own.
"Colonel, were about ninety miles away from Warsaw. Should me stop at set up camp for the night?" One of my soldiers asked. "Now would be as good a time as any. Hell, we might even see the Russians retreat," I told the soldier, watching as he radioed the rest of the battalion.
All in all, things were going smoothly.
Camp was quickly set up, taking little over an hour and a half, as the well-packed, collapsible tents, flagpoles, and Meteoric Iron shielding out, setting them over each and every tent as a quick, reliable bullet-proofing.
With the temporary base established, those on first watch took their posts, being extra observant as to not doom us all from a sneak attack.
The Tankers finally came out of their tanks, looking at the tents and flagpole. "Man, you guys sure work hard to make something so shabby," one of the tankers said, before following up. "I mean, me and my boys already have a place to sleep, it's this bad boy right here." He patted the his tank.
"Just because you want to stick your dick in the muffler, doesn't mean I'll allow you to mouth off to an officer, Herschel," The Lieutenant Colonel in charge of the mechanized battalion said, slapping the back of the tanker's head, as he walked towards me.
"Sir," he saluted. "Lieutenant Colonel Matthews," I saluted back. "Let's keep our men in order. We're both on the same side after all," I told the Lieutenant Colonel, earning a nod. "Apologies for him. He's just a bit amped up to be going to war. Plus he just got a new toy to drive."
Oh well, I didn't want to deal with the Tankers. They were... Well, they were special. "I leave the tankers in your charge. You understand them better than most."
The sound of metal clanging against metal could be heard, signalling dinner.
"Let's go eat."