Cholo
The music worked. And frankly, beyond that, I didn't care. Some pig cops were going to die, and
to music.
Unfortunately, the pig cops had other ideas.
Comrade Quazi's plan had Bravo and Charlie assaulting from north and south respectively, with Alpha on overwatch duties in the construction site. As the DC medic I started out to the west, but whilst I listened to the music I drove a truck around to the south and eventually hooked-up with Charlie, which was coming in from a starting position to the east. I even passed our newest comrade, JD Shots, who was motionless, seemingly overpowered by
the music of John Carpenter.
Crossing the open ground I saw smoke ahead, and it appeared that Charlie had entered the police station at the eastern entrance. I ran for the cover of some HESCO blocks, all the time scanning the rooftop for some pig cop trying to get elevation on me. I heard a lot of shooting, and decided to edge around to the southern entrance. By the time I entered the building, we'd won the battle for the ground floor - but above us some servants of The Man were emptying shells into the main hall. At one point it felt as if they were attempting to shoot
through the floor, and moments later I saw something that looked uncannily like broken masonary fall into the hall from above.
I popped both my moke grenades into the main hall, and when I felt the smoke was dense enough I dashed across to the foot of the main stairs. I wasn't alone - I think it was comrade President Weasel moving ahead of me, mounting the stairs and climbing to the first landing. The shotgun blast came from his left, and killed him dead. I popped up long anough to confirm my suspicions: a prone pig emptied more shells in my direction and it was only the solid banister that saved me. I reloaded my Makarov and wondered if I could climb, turn, aim and fire fast enough. Then I edged forward, wondering if I could ... just ... grab ... the Uzi ... from the ... body ... in ... front ... yes! .... and clips! .... YES!
I charged the weapon, ensured it was on fully automatic, and readied myself to climb, turn and fire (
forget aiming, this was an Uzi!). I climbed, but before turning the space in front of me was filled with a pig cop. With a shotgun.
Czech mate
Comrade Unaco's plan was a) great, and b) well executed by everyone concerned. With four fireteams and two attachments to play with, comrade Unaco could afford to be far more direct than our previous efforts. Arranging a platoon line on the hillside opposite the target compound, we first used volume of fire to knock out the road-patrolling technicals, allowing us to dominate the little valley ahead and setting up a nearly uncontested crossing.
When we did cross, we went as a line. But at the mid-point Charlie fireteam and MMG1 snagged (on purpose) at the roadside, concentrating fire up the driveway towards the compound entrance. Smoothly, the rest of the platoon hinged on Charlie, elements to the left and right of this central element maintaining their forward momentum, but closing in to pincer the compound. It was awesome to watch (I was near Charlie), and soon we had control over the compound entrance. After a pause alongside Charlie, I had gone forward and up the hill with comrade Unaco, pausing in the shelter of small a structure halfway up the drive. Then I heard comrade Null was injured at the compound entrance, so I set off at full pace to see if I could assist.
A little challenge with
Czech Mate (that we need to fix) is that the medic comes from the KSK faction, and by default doesn't see the fireteam markers for the platoon. So I could only tell it was Null because he was being dragged backwards. I patched him up, all the while a little nervous because I could hear a lot of excited chatter about armour and another technical. Frankly, I was glad when I could re-join the rest of the platoon, which had formed up at the far wall of the compound, and was preparring to break out into the ground to our north.
The I rememberd the point of the mission, and ran back to check we'd killed the enemy officer. We had. And I took his gold revolver as proof (because comrade Tigershark likes that kind of thing). By the time I rejoined the others they'd left the compound and were starting to crest the next little rise in a widely-space platoon line (again, kudos to the CO and all FTLs/element leaders). Hanging a little back, I heard a lot of rifle snaps and the odd rocket. We were taking wounded (and sadly 1-2 KIAs), but we were also holding our own line. I rushed here and there, patching people up, before comrade Unaco consolidated the platoon at a little compound to our left. More bandaging was required, but there seemed to be a good number of us left, and after dressing the line we once again surged forward, climbing the sandy slope to the next set of positions.
The positions themselves were empty, or thinly defended, because almost at once we were
in them, pouring fire at enemies to our right. I could see into the valley that we'd need to cross in order to complete our punch through enemy lines. Still, it wasn't safe to cross - a reasonably strong force of enemies was dug in further down the line to our left. Twice, comrade Unaco was shot observing them and I'm sure I patched at least one other as we wheeled and engaged these enemies. But we were winning, and soon our commander was sending packets of men across the valley, himself remaining with the last of the covering elements. I crossed early, and turned back to watch for the last of our men to make it over the mid-point of the valley before calling the mission. I've never seen this one completed so well. Congratulations to all comrades.
Zargabaddies
We lost a few comrades before the start of this mission, so probably had too few people for comrade Egg's plan - but the idea (sending one detachment against the Grads from the east, and another against the first enemy compound from the north) was reasonable. Alpha and the BMP-2, accompanied by the CO himself and me (as DC medic), set off for Yarum to begin the attack, whilst B/C and the other elements took a truck ride east and then south, heading for the riverbed just north of the Grad park.
Comrade Headspace's Alpha actually managed to infiltrated into an area of the target compound without getting bounced, and both the CO and I followed them in too, our friendly BMP-2 loitering just outside. Then the shooting started, and it seemed to be going well - Alpha was empting magazines and hurling grenades into the compound's next section like violence was about to go out of fashion ... only I couldn't hear comrade Egg. I called out over CC but heard no response. Then I spotted an olive-green uniform lying in the grass near Alpha. I ran over to confirm what I already suspected.
Remember, comrades: When you're the CO, the whole platoon is your meatshield!
Still, comrade Egg was dead. Comrade Headspace's CC was on the blink, so Bravo FTL got the platoon. In the confusion, something horrible happened to our BMP-2, because though moments later we had secured the compound, around the same time I heard the terrible words 'combat ineffective' over TS3. Joining up with comrade Headspace's Alpha (and eventually the crew of the disabled BMP-2), I grabbed a PKM and went firm in a little mud-walled compound just north of the one we had assaulted. Something very angry was pouring heavy calibre fire on us from across the riverbed, whilst down the road to our west I shot at least one enemy foot-soldier. It wasn't looking good. It wasn't
sounding good either. Bravo/Charlie detachment was getting chewed up, and again I heard some terrible words over TS3: 'death or glory'.
Firing my PKM from the hip, I joined a final, desparate charge across the fields. I killed one last enemy fighter before a tank shell atomised me.
Bedtime
Last official Folk mission of 2011, and we weren't supposed to win. But comrade Toad didn't get that particular memo. So, under the orders and eyes of our watchful comrade hero sniper, we fell back into the town, sowing our deadly crop of satchels as we went. Soon I could hear the familiar, if grossly uneven contest between the
booms of FN FALs and
pew pew pews of our little Skorpions. Then the even more familiar noise of a technical motoring up to the first junction. I prayed and prayed (in a totally non-religious and Party-approved manner) for the driver to hang a left and come up the hill towards me. Because that would take him over my satchel. He did.
With the technical out of the picture, we had to clean up against the infantry - and that was by no means easy. Over TS3 I could hear someone crying out that they'd been shot and incapacitated. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been terminal: we still had men alive and able to get to the injured comrade. Then comrade Nullkigan revealed that our bleeding brother was near his satchel. And that the satchel was on a timer.
Bugger.
As far as I can tell, the bomb never detonated, because instead of watching comrade Egg's body hurled towards the sky, there was only more
pew pew pews from our little Skorpions. And then we had won.
Congratulations to debut commander, comrade Toad.
He will, of course, be shot for this gross competence.
