RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 30-3: Seeing the Elephant (Part 3)

Author notes:

Yahallo! Next chapter is up and I couldn't stop myself at the end lol

Been spending the last few days learning the art of cooking with mom. I also did a side project of learning howto make egg tarts. Mom likes it very much so I dared a venture with it, used what ever I had on hand then thrown them in an oven. Turned out pretty fine, If I dare say so myself. Mom loved it, I think. Unfortunately I forgor to take pictures of it.

Also, in case you haven't noticed, I have made a new stretch of goal. Now that my income is stabilizing to ensure a proper home for mom and me, I aim for 800 USD/Month for additional saving. The penultimate goal will be medicines and new household appliances, if possible. We're sitting at 512 USD/Month, all thanks to you guys!

Anyway, hope you all enjoy the new chapter, peace and have fun!

Tropical Warrior series

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Lieutenant Parker is tapped on his right shoulder, pulling his attention away from surveying the battle map spread on his thighs. Looking up, Parker sees an Inquisition Corporal who is strapping his helmet tight. "You may want to keep your head down, sir. We will be moving in right after the artillery softened up the enemy bunkers."

Parker nods before folding his map and putting it away in a satchel attached to his hip. The Lieutenant then checks the strap of his steel helmet before bringing up his Browning Automatic Rifle. The hefty AR is a trustworthy piece of weapon. Despite the weight and length, she boasts the traits of being hard-hitting and reliable as long as you treat her right. Parker pulls the charging handle back, grinning at the feeling of cold metal in his fingers. The Lieutenant then reaches into his ammo bandolier, grabs a 20-round magazine of .30-06, and then loads it into the gun. Flipping the safety on, Parker then leans back, turning to look at the Corporal who is also checking his Kar98k.

Suddenly, footsteps can be heard from the back of the vehicle they're on. Opening the steel hatches, the rest of the ten-man squad that is assigned to this 251 half-track starts boarding the vehicle. Parker, as an American Lieutenant who was assigned suddenly to this Spanish platoon, had taken the time yesterday to familiarise himself with the team. Though they have fought together on occasions, it was the first time that Parker got to know them on a personal basis.

Parker raises a hand while calling out to the leading Sergeant of the squad. "Sergeant Rum."

The tanned-skin Sergeant nods back in greeting, flashing Parker a toothy smile. "Lieutenant." The man then takes a seat next to Parker while cradling his Mp-35. "How's the morning treating ya?"

Parker shrugs while gazing at the soldiers taking their positions and manning the pintle-mounted MG-34 in the front. "Could have used a bit more coffee, but I'll live."

Sergeant Rum smirkes before pulling out a stainless steel flask. The man uncorks it before handing it over to Parker." Here, try this. It's not as renowned as your American Whiskey but it gets the job done."

Parker raises an eyebrow at the offered drink but eventually grabs the flask. It doesn't escape his notice when the soldiers across him start looking at the flask with both trepidation and morbid curiosity. With a cautious manner, Parker takes a swig from it. Parker immediately frowns at the taste but thanks to his mental preparation, he doesn't spit out. Steeling himself and gulping down the burning spirit, Parker hands the flask back while smacking his lips. "Jesus, what the Hell was that thing?"

Rum laughs, impressed at Parker's display while the others whistle with some even clapping. One of them, and one of the two females in the squad, answers in Rum's stead. "Congratulations, Parker, you're the second person in the entire platoon to even tank that spirit without spitting out. That drink that you downed, those were some hard-hitting Belkan stuff. Something about Dwarven Ale, can't really remember the name, however."

Rum raises his flask. "Drakeling Ale, finest in the Belkan mountains." Before downing the thing in one healthy gulp.

Parker blanches at the blatant indulgence before combat while the others just shake their heads. "This is not the first time nor the last time he will drink on the job, Lieutenant. And believe it or not, you never want to face a drunken Rum on the field." The Private from earlier commented, leading Parker to say. "Technically speaking, you're my senior in this platoon, so I will listen to you, Private Julia."

Private Julia makes a finger gun at Parker and a wink, prompting the Lieutenant to wryly shake his head. Rum interjects with a smile. "Ohh! It seems somebody is already making a move on our new Lieutenant over here."

Private Julia shrugs. "What can I say, a girl gotta move fast."

The others in the half-track giggle while Parker gives Rum a sideglance. "Does this count as insubordination on my first day at work?"

Rum plays along. "What, you gonna make me cut back on my ale consumption?"

"Keep dishing your Lieutenant then I just might." Parker then performs a fist bump with Rum before the two men laugh.

"That said..." Parker then looks at his watch. "Ready up, ladies and gents. That suppression barrage will be commencing soon so let's go over the details of this mission."

Parker leans forward and so does the rest of the squad. "After the barrage comes pouring down on the enemy, Surfer section will move in first, clearing out any possible mines and helping us blow up any hard-to-kill target with their 75mm cannons. They'll gonna be the vanguard all the way till the vineyard and possibly even further than that, so..." Parker looks around. "Us foot mobiles will have to make sure nothing can flank them. They're our only heavy hitters unless you want to use a Grenade Buster out of a moving half-track."

Rum puts away his flask, commenting. "Yeah well, just don't trust me with that job if it comes down to that."

Parker glances at him. "Because you're dead drunk or you just have a shitty aim?"

Julia cackles. "He got you there, Rum."

Rum mocks a hurt expression. "I would have you known I can take the hat off a Captain at 300 meters!"

"Gotta see it to believe it." Parker then moves on. "We gonna go in fast alongside Fourth and Fifth Squads. It will be a mobile assault on our half-tracks all the way till we reach the firebase. I believe the Belkans use the word blitz to describe our tactic. While we're rushing ahead, the rest of Bravo Company will be shoring up the rear, making sure that we will not be pursued. Now here comes the fun part. The vineyard's manor is surrounded by a marble wall and the main entrance has two MG nests and is always guarded by a tank paired up with an AT gun. Frontal assault may be costly so I have the scouts search for a different avenue of approach. On the way to the manor will be an unused dirt path, hidden by a thicket, that bypasses the front gate and leads us near the wall. I discussed this with Fourth and Fifth's leaders and we agreed that we, being the First, and the Fourth would use this pathway to ram a hole in the wall, thus flank the AT gun and the tank."

Rum nods, humming. "I see. Then the Fifth will come down the main entrance with the Surfers, using the chaos to blast the gate wide open so we can move into secure the manor itself."

Julia chimes in. "It will be a giant furbal if nothing else. We would have to be very precise and take down as many as we can."

Parker then pats his BAR. "Then it's a good thing I brought this along."

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"I'm out!" Private Julia crouched down while shouting. Her hand quickly brought out another clip to load her rifle.

"Again?!" Rum asked while taking her place on the side, firing his SMG in a burst to suppress the Sardegnians that scurried behind a rock formation.

"Hey, it's not my fault I was issued with a damn rifle!"

"Empty!" Rum shouted while ducking down to load, letting Julia retake her position once again. With a quick snap shot, Julia downs a Sardegnian that has been setting up his machine gun. "And unlike you quick shooters, I kill something at a bargain price!"

"Oh, yeah!?" Rum said while feeding a stick mag in his Mp-35. "Go and tell that to Parker over there!" Rum gestured his head to the Lieutenant.

The man in question is manning the right side of the 251, putting the word Automatic in his rifle to good, precise bursts. Parker is scaringly adept at handling the BAR, with each turn of the muzzle, he sends out concise shots of .30-06 to a deadly effect, cutting down the enemy hiding behind shrubberies and low-hanging trees. When he's out, Parker pulls the charging handle back while crouching down, reloading the heavy rifle with practiced ease despite bullets ricocheting off the armor he's hiding behind.

Currently, Parker's force is barreling down the road at the best speed possible while providing cover for the mine-clearing tanks in front of them. Thanks to the Panzer IIIs of Surfer section, they managed to avert the fate of being blown up by an AT-mine a few times already. Occasionally, some infantries try to rush near the tanks in an attempt to throw AT grenades at them. Fortunately for the Coalition forces, the MG-34s aboard the platoon's half-tracks quickly mow down any offending attempt. While ahead of them, the Panzer IIIs ensure any bunkers or hardcovers are swiftly taken care of by their 75mm HEAT shell or HE shell. The attacks of these infantry support guns provide a protective umbrella for the open-top half-tracks behind the Panzer IIIs, allowing the infantries inside the armored vehicles to fight back against any flanking maneuvers. In short, the entire force is built on a symbiotic relationship, with each element capable of scratching the other's back.

Of course, there were a few close calls. Stuff like the sudden appearance of an L3 tankette that almost punctured a new hole in one of the MG-34's gunner heads wasn't a surprising matter. Nonetheless, a machine-gun-equipped tankette facing off against a 75mm HEAT shell? Well, fat chance that tankette getting out alive.

Eventually, after an intense period of drive-by gangsta style, the force reaches the predetermined fork. There, First and Fourth Squads' half-tracks split off, with Parker's half-tracks running over and flattening any overgrowth on the dirt path. And before Parker's detachment can distract the firebase's defender, the rest of the force will be setting up a holding point, stopping any pursuer till they're given the go-ahead to attack the manor.

"Better keep your heads low, people!" Parker shouts while the half-track starts picking up speed. "At the rate we're going, a misadventure branch can knock the living daylight out of you!"

Julia quips back. "You're talking from experience?"

"If by that you mean bonking myself off a horse, then yes!" Parker replied, earning a few chuckles from the others. "Alright, if I managed to read the terrain correctly, then we're five minutes out. Check yourself for injuries, ammo, and anything else you have to. And remember," Parter reiterated a warning. "While we're positive that they will be holding the civies down under, check your fire. If they're holding hostages, wait for the others to join you and only engage if you are sure you can save the hostages. Anything else comes up, improvise!"

Rum laughs. "Words to live by!"

"Damn right, they are!" Parker nodded at them before peering over the hull of his half-track, seeing a glimpse of a faded-white marble wall. "Alright, thirty seconds out! Lock and load, people!"

Thus comes the racking of many bolts. Parker then says "Smoke grenades at the ready!"

With those words, a few soldiers, Rum included, equipped themselves with smoke grenades. They will be needed to cover the squad's dismount from their ride. After all, you can't exactly breach a manor with a 7.8-tonne vehicle. "Heads down and helmet tight!" Parker said a final warning while raising his fingers for a countdown.

"5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

Then the Lieutenant curls his fingers into a fist.

*BANG* *RUMBLE*

The entire half-track shakes as the front of the multi-ton armored wagon goes through the marble wall like a battering ram. Bits of marble and dust hit the helmets and bodies of the passengers as the 251 half-track skids to a stop. Immediately, Parker jumps into a stand, bracing his BAR onto the side of the hull.

"Yippee Ki-Yay, motherfuckers~!"

*THUMP* *THUMP* *THUMP* *THUMP*

Gotta love the sounds of freedom.