RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 43-4: Gunboat Diplomacy (Part 4)

Author Notes:

I am back! And somehow, for whatever damn reason, it's another Interlude... Bruh, I think this mini-arc will have a lot of interludes, just because I have no idea how to name or place them in the middle of an already hotbed of activities the mini-arc will have. Are the interludes important to the story though? Absolutely, because they either show how Belka fights or the motivation behind certain characters.

Why jam them altogether? Because the mini-arc will wrap up Spain and Sardegna, making room for Belka vs Ustio/Erusea and picking up the plot points like Rusviet and Indochina. So, expect an end to this Auschwitz debacle soon.

More importantly, we're to welcome the newest Captain of the Reich with open arms! Everybody, a warm applause to Captain Dore Brandon! Glad to welcome you aboard, Captain!

Lastly, I've updated the album with three pictures, may be they're teased for the future, who knows :D 

https://photos.app.goo.gl/waZgkRa3UQhqKQBi9

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Recon on the ground in the pre-1940 era has always been a matter of packing light and trying not to be seen by the enemy. That said, with the special individual capability, technological prowess, and industrial production power that Belka has available, its armed forces have been introduced to many new military concepts. One such concept is armored reconnaissance.

Armored reconnaissance is the combination of terrestrial reconnaissance with armored warfare by soldiers using tanks and wheeled or tracked armored reconnaissance vehicles. While the mission of reconnaissance is to gather intelligence about the enemy with the use of reconnaissance vehicles, armored reconnaissance adds the ability to fight for information, and to affect and shape the enemy through the performance of traditional armored tasks.

Whereas ordinary scouts are expected to either infiltrate the enemy lines by avoiding contact or to retreat in the face of anything more than enemy scouting parties, an armored reconnaissance team is expected to be able to break through enemy lines by overwhelming forward screening elements. Armored reconnaissance units are expected to reconnaissance-in-force, put enemy scouting units to flight, force screens to retreat, work to disrupt both logistics and communication lines, and force their way deep enough behind enemy lines to reconnoiter the main enemy force deployments and encampments. Armored reconnaissance vehicles and tactics are capable of fending off any light advance unit the enemy can field, and are theoretically on equal terms with the armored main elements of the enemy force.

In short, they're the tip of the spear.

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Dawn breaks with an overcast hanging in the sky. In the slowly receding shadow of a small patch of forest, a Belkan armored reconnaissance platoon, nicknamed Brigands by the members, lies in wait.

Consisting of two Class-C Pumas and two Class-B Pumas, the latter is armed with 57 mm autocannons and carries two infantry squads and a commanding fireteam, this particular platoon is tasked with recon and direct action before the arrival of the main force. The first task is accomplished swiftly with the aid of the 501st Division's UAV recon company but the second task is where the fun begins.

As one of the first platoons on the ground, the Brigands were also among the first to leave the 501st FOBs. Riding fast in the dark of the night, the Brigands scouted the division's attack paths and took out many checkpoints and patrols along the way. Whenever they came up upon an outpost designated as a target by the UAV, the IFV Pumas dropped off the infantry squads at a safe distance. With boots on the ground, the armored recon hung back and waited for the airborne infantry to clear the target. Usually, this involved knives, lots of knives, but a spell or an 8 mm Mauser was required sometimes. To reduce the chance of being detected, trailing elements of the 501st would arrive after the Brigands' departure, disguising themselves as the outposts' deceased garrisons.

Covering a lot of distance in just a single night, the Brigands finally reached their current position, an ambush position that is just a short ride away from the train track that leads to Auschwitz. Due to the nature of their upcoming task, some of the soldiers aren't deployed from the Pumas, rather, half of them are running security on a shift while the other half rest inside. Some of the latter even bring out their rations, eating an early breakfast when they still can.

One Sergeant, part of the commanding fireteam and the one in charge of the airborne infantry section, is among the people who bring out the food package. One of his underlings sitting across him, gestures his head toward the package in the Sergeant's hands.

"Whatcha meal set, Sergeant Axis?"

Flipping the package around and tearing open the packaging with the words 'First Strike Ration' stamped on it, Sergeant Axis replies. "Menu 7, beef nacho sandwich and sweet & spicy tuna. My favorite."

*Whistle* "Never have that one before, is it any good?"

"The meal set is surprisingly diverse in taste. I can vouch that you won't be getting sick of a particular flavor of this package for an entire day. Though with the cold weather outside, nothing beats a hot bowl of soup."

"Yeah well, the guys back at the FOB at least have a field kitchen set up." A female, the medic of the fireteam, interjected. "We're just shit outta luck to be sortieing first. At least the Puma has air-con, otherwise, you guys gonna be freezing your balls off."

"Then what about you, girlie?" The Sergeant said after biting a chunk off his nacho sandwich, the rich flavor helped push away any bit of drowsiness and hunger. "What body parts are you gonna be rubbing your heat on?"

While the coarse joke might be off-putting to a fine lady, the residential medic is none of that. Poking her chest out proudly while tapping her knuckle on it, the medic smirks. "But of course, it's my bouncy pair of tits! The last thing they gonna see is the sight of my assets racking up and down a big ride!"

The dirty joke livens up the mood in the Puma, even the Sergeant can't help but chuckle amidst his chewing. That said, the men around the medic know that she is anything but a loose woman. As the person in charge of keeping the section alive, the woman takes her job seriously while doubling as their mood maker, earning the respect of every person in the group. Seriously though, no one wants to be on the bad side of a medic who may one day save you with a knife and a tweezer.

The troop compartment descends into a bantering mood like that for some time. When Sergeant Axis finishes his sandwich and pops a cinnamon-flavored, caffeinated gum in his mouth, the Puma intercom rings.

"Alright boys and girls in the back, settle down and put your meals away. We're gonna be moving out in five." The comms goes silent for a couple of seconds before turning back on. "I sure hope nobody makes a mess of my girl back there. Otherwise, it will be your section that washes the platoon's vehicles."

Sergeant Axis nods to no one in particular before putting away his ration pack. "You heard the man, make space for the others." Speaking into the radio, he calls out to the troops outside. "Alright you lots, this is Brigand 2-1, saddle up! We're leaving in five!"

"Brigand 2-2, roger. Moving back to the AFVs."

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"This is Brigand 1-1, we got eyes on the train. Seems like a piece of antique from the previous war." The First Lieutenant of the recon platoon said while sitting in the Commander seat of his Class-C Puma. "Get some eyes on the city gate, they're prepping a welcoming committee for the supply freight."

"This is Brigand 1-2, eyes on." The other Class-C Puma called in.

"This is 1-3, yeah, we see it."

"1-4 here, they pulled the train fresh out of storage some time back. Recently refurbished. And it seems like there's a music band at the ready."

The First Lieutenant says after taking a sip from his chocolate protein drink. "Yeah, well, we're about to render their effort null. Gunner, HEAT." The Lieutenant taps a short command, getting the autoloader to bring a shell from the ammo bustle and into the breach. To simplify ammunition load for the entire armed forces, Leopards and Class-C Pumas carry only two types of shells for their 105 mm smoothbore guns. The first shell is an Armor-piercing Fin-stabilized Discarding Sabot, APFSDS for short, while the second is a High-explosive Anti-tank Multi-purpose or HEAT-MP. The latter, in particular, is an advanced munition that, when connected to the tank's ammunition data link, can allow the commander or the gunner to select the mode of detonation for the HEAT-MP warhead. This can either be airburst for anti-infantry and light vehicles, point detonates when up against armored vehicles and trucks, or point detonate delay when you need to breach a bunker or two. This drastically reduces the risk of a less-than-optimal ammunition selection in heavy combat.

Currently, with the armored locomotive engine as a target, the Lieutenant sets the fuze to point detonante, impact fuze, basically. With the breach accepting the shell, the tank commander shouts. "Up!"

This leads the gunner to say. "I got good range and lead."

"Send when ready."

"On the way!"

With a rock and a muffled bang echoing in from outside their tank, the HEAT-MP warhead is launched at supersonic speed toward the slow, and cumbersome armored locomotive. Both the tank commander and gunner can only see the red tracer of the shell for a couple of seconds before it impacts the lead train engine. The warhead immediately detonates, and in a split second, creates a stream of molten metal hypersonic jet to pierce through the armor plating of the train engine, thus wrecking havoc inside the train. Faster than the brain can register, the front end of the train is obliterated, causing the subsequent engine and railcars to be damaged and derailed. Due to the high velocity of the train, everything, no matter the weight or size, is sent flying and tumbling. Shocked humans, cargo containers, even the turreted howitzer... All got lifted into the air, smacking into each other before crashing hard into the ground, and then flipping around some more. The railcars, especially the heavier ones, are launched pretty damn far. So much so that they even reach Auschwitz's gate. After that, it's just pure, unaltered chaos.

Crashing the welcoming venue, demolishing the nearby watch tower and buildings, exploding into balls of fire that engulf the guards and spectators... Everything happens so fast that no one is able to react in time. The sound is deafening and the subsequent ammunition cook-off from the armed railcars only facilitates absolute anarchy on the Sardegnian's side. Nobody knows what the hell just happened, those who are fortunate enough to view the mess from afar can only do just that, stare at the chaotic mess. It's not until the shrill alarm that can be heard all over Auschwitz assaulting their ears that some of them wake up, smashing the others' heads and shouting at them to go.

"Grab a fucking bucket!"

With the detonation of munitions, fuel, and other volatiles that the train and affected areas have been holding, a part of Auschwitz is lit up like it's early Christmas. It will take more than a few buckets of water to douse the flame but nonetheless, the meaning goes across the stunned people. Some really go to get a bucket or two, others head to the fire brigades. There's no time to waste, they have to eliminate the fiery threat to the city first before they can lament the fact that they won't have any supply for Christmas and New Year.

What they all seem to collectively forget about though, is just how the train got derailed in the first place. Despite the order for mobilization of the city garrison has been made, words got lost in translation, somewhere, leading to the military going out to aid in putting away the fire instead of actually securing the city's defensive perimeter.

At this point onwards, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong for the Sardegnians of Auschwitz.