Author's Note

This is an alternate version of history, made to be semi-educational and to test my writing style, please tell me any errors or things I need to change in the comments, as well as ideas. This story is not planned, and is written based on a combination of what my readers request and what I want. To clear up confusion, in 1902 a gateway between Equestrian and Earth was opened on a classified location in Georgia. Ever since ponies have lived and adapted to society, they are treated as equals, for humans fear what they could do if they weren't treated fairly.

Metal Raindrops

It is 1918, I don't know the time, date, or even exactly where the hell I am. Not that I care myself, there are greater things to worry about. For example, the artillery fire raining down at random locations on our trench. That's a good start.

"They've been shellin' us for ten minutes now!" A Green eyed, deep voiced, female Earth Pony yells from behind at no one in particular.

"Don't complain now, for all we know there's ten minutes more waiting for us!" I are forced to scream back, shouting over the artillery fire and screaming of injured soldiers, dying to protect these trenches. Even after all these years, it felt so weird talking to an animal, but I've learned that I can believe just about anything anymore.

Bright colors light up my way, growing darker as I run. The ground changed color as different Unicorns fired different colored blasts far behind you. This didn't make me feel any safer, however. The bright colors just made it harder for my eyes to find a proper adjustment.

I keep sprinting down the trench, deeper into my own lines in order to survive the onslaught. Not much further and I'd be at the dug-out. It was arguably lucky that there was a dugout, debris falling couldn't kill you. But if a shell were to land right on top, one shudders to imagine how long men could be buried.

But there was one problem, the officer blocking the only trench leading to the dug-out.

"Stop, coward! Get back out there and save your fellow soldiers!" The officer howls at me from a few feet away, I skid to a stop, the pony squeaks, slamming into my back. The soldier behind her also collides, and so forth. He aims his Colt into my chest (no pun intended).

I knew he'd shoot me. Officers had shot cowards many a time in front me before. I never had alot of thinking time, but I knew if I was going to die, it wouldn't be from American weapons, that's guaranteed. I could kill the officer if I wanted to, but I dropped my rifle when the shells started falling, and drawing my pistol would give the officer too much reaction time.

Out of decisions, I spun away from the officer and signaled to move. The Earth Pony's ears splayed back, it looked shocked. I was forced to shove the frozen pony away and weave my way around the space-takers in front of me. The blood red mud-water is splish splashing under my boots. Sprinting back into the chaos of explosions falling no less than 20 yards away, I begin feeling numb. I don't care or know if one is waiting to land on my head, and I don't care. I'm in the heat of war, the adrenaline has started seeping through my veins, I know this feeling all too well. My vision begins to tunnel and the regularly ear-deafening blams of explosions began to sound muffled and silent. I weave my way narrowly between slower Earth Ponies and soldiers. There were more Earth Ponies than humans at this point, they were in charge of field medical help and carrying wounded. Meaning bullets weren't a common risk to them. They could only use melee weapons, making them only combat effective if we were charged. They would be helping us shoot, but they couldn't exactly hold a rifle with those hooves.

I knew I had run half of the entire front line, but it felt like 5 feet, so the next thing I know, I was leaping over the bodies of the ponies and fallen soldiers that littered the trenches. I briefly remember my first time in the front lines, I couldn't get closer than 10 feet from the bodies, and had passed out from the sheer terror of men with their brains melted, oozing outside of their skull. Now, it was second nature to crawl over the corpses. What a world I've grown to witness.

I stand in one of the lines behind the firing step, my duty was now. I had dropped my weapon in the failed scuffle to escape artillery, and leaned over to pick up the rifle of a dead soldier, opening the bolt and pushing on the bullets, finding the rifle full. A shell lands inside the trench about 20 yards away, I feel shrapnel smack my helmet. The force knocks me into the bloody water, I see limbs hurling over me. My face submerges, quickly snapping me back into battle. I clamber to my feet, then lean down and pick up the dead soldier's ammo pack, jamming it into my vest. The unicorns were taking cover behind sandbags, some firing weak, rapid blasts of energy into enemy cover. Others taking slower, yet more powerful blasts into the enemy trenches. This used to panic me, as they fired directly over your head if you were in the firing step. I've grown less afraid of soldiers on both sides, and more afraid of personal failure, which may result in casualties.

There were only around one-hundred of us humans left in the front lines that were standing, only fifteen or so attacking. The unicorns were even less, only around twenty were even alive up here. The pegasai back on the airbase seemed very plentiful, but I was never allowed back there. As much as we are told they are in great numbers, any Pegasus we talk to tells us they are shredded and injured from getting shot at while flying reconnaissance.

*CRUNCH*

The man in front of me falls down, lifelessly. A new hole torn through his head, his blood now stained my face and clothes. This only added to the rush I was already feeling. It was my turn, I needed to make this happen now. I give his blood a second to wash off of the step, experience told me how easy it was to slip. An Earth Pony runs to the case, grabbing the neck of the dead man's fatigues. His blue eyes switching to me, he looks between me and my firing step expectantly.

With a month of building habit, I leaped onto the firing step with out another thought, immediately taking in the sight of hundreds of bodies, mangled and mutilated, lying over No Man's Land. Some Germans were laying in the barbed wire, full of holes, others weren't even given chance to get so close. I take aim at the first thing that moves in my vision. Soon I was firing rapidly at all moving objects, I had no idea if it was a person or an object, or if I hit it, but the firing would at least pin the Germans down. When I ran our of ammo, I'd reload and continue firing. When I didn't see movement, I'd shoot where the unicorns were blasting.

After ten minutes, the explosions fall silent. And as I soon realized, all was quiet. Terrifyingly quiet. The sun had started to set and the sky was a haunting orange. Smoke covered the land from the battle just waged, and everyone continued aiming, looking for any signs of further fighting.

I take a moment to analyze my life, realizing this might be the last time I have to think. Back in 1902, the gateway opened, letting colorful, talking, equine animals into our world. We were scared at first, ready to defend, but as they showed no hostile signs, we negotiated. Realizing the portal worked both ways we began to enter each others worlds, they helped us with magic, we helped them with technology. I'd never been to the other world, but it sounded great. They hadn't had a war in ages, and everyone got along there. We were not so well-kept. Luckily, when the United States entered the war, they sided with America specifically, meaning Germany didn't have ponies on their side. They were an exclusive American fighting force. I had always told myself, if I survive this war, the first think I'm doing is visiting that peaceful world. I now realize I may never get that far. I forget the name, has an E? Ecan, Ecaul, E-

The next sound I heard ripped me from my thoughts, and made my blood run cold.

*FWEEEEEEEE*

From a good distance ahead, I hear the all-too familiar, menacing blow of a whistle. Followed by the distant rumbling of war shouts, which was soon to crescendo.

"THEY'RE GOING OVER THE TOP!" I didn't even need to look behind myself to recognize the voice of the unicorn that has been screaming into my ear the entire time. I swear, I've heard grenades quieter than that mare... Why did we let female ponies to the front lines to begin with? Human women can't be up here, damn I hate that rule. I wouldn't have recognized that unicorn without the voice, all these ponies looked the same to me, the only notable difference being gender and body mass. this was because they all were dyed a dirty brown to blend in with the trenches. Pink and Cyan aren't exactly blending colors.

Anyway, these were things to think about later, for now I needed to worry about what the siren of a creature, and the rumble of Earth Ponies approaching the front lines to reinforce us had just clarified.

The Germans were going over the top, through No Man's Land, and into our trenches...