The Melding of Two Worlds Pt. 1: The Battle for Ponyville

Ponyville had once been a town of hey roofs, and open streets. The ponies there had walked about happy as ever through the streets without a care in the world. Now, it was unrecognizable. Every building had been walled up with two layers of sandbags, so you had no idea what the building was meant for except for the small sign that either had numbers on it, or had the name of a store on it. The same went for the streets, you didn't know what street you were on unless you saw the sign because everything looked the same. And everypony had a belt with a gas mask the shape of their muzzles on. But they were still happy. They were under the threat of gas attacks, and they were happy.

I was walking down Baquette row, where most of their restaurants were established on, getting lots of smiles and waves from the pedestrians. I waved back out of politeness, but I couldn't for the life of me know why they were. But I tossed the train of puzzlement from my mind, and continued on. I was looking for Sugarcube corner, where I was going to meet Twilight and the mayor to discuss training the Ponyville volunteers for combat. I saw the coffee and tea shop, a family owned diner, and finally, Sugar Cube Corner. I opened the door, and I was greeted by a bell twinkling, and a massive open area, with only three tables. The mayor and Twilight were in one of them. I walked over to them, dropping my bag on the ground next to the seat I was taking.

"Why did you bring your bag with you? We're close enough to the trenches that you could get back to them if we were attacked." Twilight asked inquisitively.

I just shrugged, "Force of habit? It's a good habit tuh boot. What if the attackers overwhelmed our trenches, or attacked from behind before we knew it? It holds my extra ammunition. What if someone gits hurt? It has my medic bag too."

The mayor asks in a very... false tone? It's either that or the preset that politicians use for speeches, just quieter, "Couldn't you bring those things with you?"

"My medic bag, yes. As fer my ammunition-" I opened my bag, and pulled out one of the giant bags that would hook into my machine gun. "I can only carry on me three of these bags without my pack. Two in a 'little' side pouch here," I stood again, and patted the very cumbersome bag that held the two mag-bags, and sat back down, "an' one in the gun, which brings me to a third reason, my bag carries my guns in rifle holsters. It gives me another option fer combat, an' let's my arms hang about at rest, or my pockets if I choose."

"So... you keep it because it's convenient?" Twilight asks.

"To simplify it, yep. So what about trainin' volunteers do you need from me?"

Twilight seems to like the shift in subject, "Oh yes! Well, from the videos we saw of you saving the princess and putting yourself in harms way to save everypony, we think that you'd be the best option to train our recruits!"

Video clips? They saw them already? How? They don't- oh, wait. I remember. Cinema industry. Right. "Ok, soooo..." I shrug, "What do you want me to do specifically?"

"Train them the way you'd train your own soldiers, only a little more in depth because these volunteers haven't been in a human form yet. We're prepared to pay you for training every volunteer. We'd be paying you in bits, so if you want to use them back home, you'd need to convert it. And of course it has more weight here, and not so much in your own country yet. We'd be giving you 100 bits per volunteer." The mayor says. Twilight noticeably flinches. I pick up on it.

"What's wrong Twilight?"

"That's actually a large sum, considering how many volunteers there are, and likely to be in the future." She says.

Hmm. Money. The prospect of having extra money was so tempting, that my mind was already made up, "You got me. I'll do it. How many volunteers will I be training?"

"20 right now, including me." says Twilight. Ok, 20 recruits will be a lot for one guy, but I think I can manage if they listen.

"Ok, I think I can teach 'em. But there's a really big problem 'ere. They're gonna have to relearn to walk, an' get used to fingers. The technology gap is another thing." My mind was digesting it as I spoke, and it was giving me a headache, "When will I get 'em?"

The mayor looks absolutely delighted, "You'll be in charge of them as soon as you're ready. Here's everything you need to know!" She tossed a binder on the table that I hadn't seen, along with a vanilla folder. The binder was pretty thick, while the folder was fairly thin. I took the folder first, and looked inside. This was a compilation of single page files of several different ponies. The pony of the front was... Applejack. I thought that she had a farm to run? I flipped through it, seeing various ponies I'd seen in the town. What the surprised me was Fluttershy. She seemed to be so timid and shy that her being in combat seemed impossible.

"Did you know that Fluttershy applied?" I asked.

Twilight answered, "Yeah, about that. You see, she was hoping that perhaps there was something she could do that involved kindness, not violence."

I found myself nodding in confirmation, "Yeah, we have something like that. She could be a medic."

Twilight perked up to this, "Really? What's a medic?"

I sighed inwardly. I really hated explaining things, "Well, a medic is kind of a doctor. They keep a wounded soldier alive until they can be evacuated back to a hospital."

"You must have a lot to stay by their side for this." The mayor comments.

"Not really. You see, the medic basically puts a rushed bandage and blood thickner tuh stop the bleeding, an' maybe a painkiller if it's bad enough. They usually can't spend more than a minute 'r two before they 'ave to move on to someone else. They usually suffer the worse pain mentally though. Kinda feel bad fer 'em."

Twilight looks confirmed, "How so?"

I then dragged on to an explanation on mental trauma that war could inflict, "End-all be-all, they often end up feelin' guilty fer the men who died, despite their efforts, an' feel like they could've done more, even though that may, or may not be true. Some civilian doctors get this, an' combat doctors practically always. The question 'Could I have done more?' or 'could I have saved them' will be with them fer the rest of their lives. Sadly, this provokes depression, an' sometimes ends in suicide." They gasp.

"So doctors might kill themselves? Even after they did so much?" Twilight asks.

I nod, "Yeah. Someone dyin' on them is so traumatic, that they don' think of the good. It's even worse fer soldiers." I realized my blunder as soon as I said it. I'm asking for it.

Almost on cue, Twilight asks, "They're at risk too!"

I nod, tiredly annoyed at her and myself, "Yep. At heart, soldiers don' tend to want to kill enemy soldiers unless they grew to hate them. An example is the Japanese bombin' America in a war, unprevoked, which killed over 2,000 people. Our soldiers hated them more than you could imagine. They managed to use their hate as an unconscious shield to keep them from feelin' guilt about killin' them. Right now, our soldiers don' hate the enemy. We got dragged into this war by our three governments. Yer people, they're afraid. Not angry. Combined with the fact that war hasn't been waged in forever, I'm very concerned. Their ability to look down the sight of a gun, an' shoot a livin' being is goin' to be put in question. Then there's the fact that they'll be shot at, bombed, an' the people around them are probably goin' tuh git hurt, maimed, or killed. This can be a hellava lot worse. Please tell me that you will allow them back out."

They were staring, jaws agape. Finally, the mayor said, "Yes."

"Do they know that these things can happen?"

"To certain degrees."

I sighed. None of this felt right. But we would need help, and I would get paid. My mind was at war with itself, parts wanting to back out, parts feeling honor bound having already agreed to do it even though I didn't want to, and other parts telling me to stop worrying about it at all, man up, and do it.

"Are you reconsidering our agreement?" The mayor asks, feeling a tinge of fear that I might say I didn't want to do it.

"I can't back out. I want to, but I can't. I've taken up a responsibility, and I'm honor bound to keep to it. *Sigh* Well, no time like the present. Let's get started. Tell them to meet me on the field on the Eastern part of the hill."

I stood up, taking the folder and binder. I started looking through the binder as I walked, when I realized that the binder wasn't for me. The mayor needed it for something else in the town. I returned it quickly saying, "Yours." and turning back quickly.

On the way, I found as many long, and fairly thick sticks that I could find until I hit the magic number of 20. Then, I waited. It actually didn't take that long until everypony showed up. All 20. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, a giant muscled pegasus, and a multitude of pegasi and earth ponies. There appeared to be only one unicorn. They were all wearing a pair of dog tags, and held a necklace that looked like dog tags except for a white crystal instead of tags.

Well, let's get it over with. "Alright. Has anyone told you what you're gettin' yerselves into?" I was met with a bunch of nods, "Well I'm going to tell you right now, it's worse than you think, or were told. You will be eating, sleeping, living in dirt 'n mud once yer training is over. When you fight, the enemy will be aimin', an' shootin' at you. Not only with bullets. Bombs will be landin' all 'round you. It will lift you up, then drop you like a toy. They have gas which will kill you if you breathe in too much. Gunfire will be everywhere. The wounded will be screamin' in pain, askin' fer help an' their loved ones. You'll see all the blood an' gore of the wounded, an' you might git hurt like that too. There are no time outs, an' rarely will they show mercy. Unless you surrender or run away, it's a fight to the death with one victor. That victor has to be you, and always you. Before we go any further, does anypony want to back out?"

A single earth pony came up to me, and handed me his tags and necklace. He muttered an, "I'm sorry." And walked off in shame. I couldn't blame him for deciding against fighting. Everyone was scared at first, and not everyone could take the rigors of war. I pocketed the articles, and returned my attention to the group, "First, you're gonna have tuh learn to walk."

Rainbow Dash spoke up, "How do you think we get around? You've seen us walk!"

Applejack explains, "He means in human form."

Rainbow just scoffs, and says, "How bad can it be?"

"Well, you're all about to find out. Put on yer necklaces." The complied. Instantly, they all turned into humans of their pony fur color, and on all fours. I gestured at the ground next to me, where 20 uniforms and boots, "Walk to them, an' put them on." They tried to walk forwards on all fours, but I bellowed at them, "On yer feet!" With this, they tried getting to their feet. Awkwardly. They had their legs spread, and they teetered and tottered all about with their arms spread as well. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were the first ones to attempt taking a step, and they promptly fell, got back up, and tried again. But they slowly learned how to balance themselves.

Eventually, everyone made their way to the uniforms, and managed to get everything on, even the socks and boots. All on the ground. It was here that I examined them all. The pegasi-turned human looked like runners. Thin and lithe. Except that white one. Motherf**ker looked like he could lift a car. The earth ponies were more bulky, and taller. The lone unicorn was different altogether. His body was average, if a word had to used. What made him stand out, was that he still had a horn, whereas the pegasi wings didn't make the transition, and the earth ponies didn't have anything to transfer over.

I walked over to him, and told him, "Try using your magic. A simple levitation spell please."

He looks at me, nodded, and his horn lit up. A large patch of grass flew up next to his head. "Interesting." The unicorns can still use magic, this will be useful.

I started handing out the sticks to everyone, "Again, you're going to need to learn to walk. You'll need to stay in this form at all times so you can get used to your fingers and walking on your feet. For now, you can use these sticks to help you. By the end of the week, I will expect to see everyone of you without it."

Now came the hard part, teaching them how to use guns and grenades. All I had was my rifle and machine gun to teach them with. So I took them down to the first trench, and got them behind a .30 cal Browning machine gun. I gave them a brief rundown of what they needed to do to fire the gun, and had them line up, each taking a turn to fire a burst of 10 rounds. Applejack was the last one to get their hands on it. The belt had been chewed up quite a bit, leaving only 20 rounds left.

"Fire, empty the gun." And she opened up. She fired until the gun was empty, and she looked confused when it stopped.

"What happened? Did I break it?"

I shake my head, "Nope, yer outta bullets. Now you need to reload. Everyone, come in and watch." I took Applejack's hands in mine, guiding them through opening the housing latch, and attaching a fresh belt of bullets, and pulled back the firing pin. I unloaded the gun again, and had Applejack reload it on her own. I was satisfied to see that she followed the steps perfectly. I repeated the process with everyone else, and a smile crept across my face as every recruit managed to get it right.

The next few days went on without very little difficulty. All I had to do was demonstrate it once, and they picked it up. Of course, Fluttershy didn't partake in most of these demonstrations, as most of them regarded using weapons. When we got to the part on gas masks, I made sure that she was present and watching. The gas masks in question were used by our entire military. The goggles looked like those that you'd use when swimming, but also covered your nose. Then, the tell tale cylinder rested just below it. The mask also had a rubbering that would cover all of the rest of the head. I ran through how to get the mask to begin providing the oxygen, and how to replace the cylinder. The unicorn made me worried, since his horn wouldn't let the mask get on all the way. For this, I placed a special order back home for a custom made mask that would provide space for the horn.

In the meanwhile, I equipped the pegasi and unicorn with assault rifles, and the earth ponies with machine guns. They all got two frag grenades and a couple of smoke grenades, entrenching tools, emergency rations, extra ammunition, a set of medical supplies, and metal helmets. Fluttershy got the smoke grenades, tools, food, and a several medical packs, and I got one of the company medics to train her how to be a field doctor. By the end of the day, the doc actually said that he was almost done training her. He was just worried that she'd spend too much time on one soldier and leave the others on their own.

Finally, training was over. They were ready to fight. I presented them in a small formation divided in two halves, and let Twilight take a look at them. She paced up and down, observing them as they watched her. By no means were they professional soldiers, but they would survive a firefight long enough to chase the enemy off.

She turns to look at me disappointed, "I thought you said they were ready? They don't look anything like your army."

I sighed. I had expected something like this, but she had been more blunt than I'd figured, "Twilight, how do you think we got as tough as we are?"

"Really good training and books?" She said hopeful.

"No. Everyone from New York, they've been in the militia fer at least a few years each. Do you know how much trainin' we got?"

"No, I don't know. How much?" She seemed to start getting drawn in.

"We were taught how to load our guns, an' shoot. That's it. We weren't taught how to fight, we weren't taught how to prepare defenses, how to use grenades. We weren't even taught how to get our uniforms on right!" I tried to keep my voice even, but I lost control by the end.

Twilight gasped at the realization of the truth, "But-but... you look so... fearsome. You look like you're ready to kill anything! I mean, you made so many bunkers and trenches, and it looks so formidable. How could you not be trained?"

"Because we learned through experience. In my first month in the militia, I had already fought in twelve gunfights with criminals an' bandits. I've lost count how many times I'd fought, an' the same can go fer the others. We learned from experience, an' from experimentin' with the equipment we got. What yer lookin' at, are survivors from the war waged at home." I gestured at the twenty people in front of me, "They got somethin' we had to earn, fer free. Knowledge. They have one of the greatest advantages, an' that's how to do their new job. The only thing they don't have which they need, is a gunfight under their belt. They need to know the sound of bullets flying around them, what the blast of a grenade or explosive goin' off so close it made ya deaf for a second." I leaned in closer to Twilight's face, "They haven't gotten shot yet. They haven't come so close to death that ya accept it." Twilight shrank away from me, her ears flayed back.

I straighten my back, "They're as ready as anyone can get 'em, an' I'm proud at how they've turned out." I smile proudly at them, and they gave me grateful smiles back.

Twilight doesn't look so confident, "Well, would you mind giving me some proof?"

Proof? You got it. I breathed in deeply, and let out, "GAS! GAS!" I ripped off my gas mask, removed my helmet, and attached the gas mask to my head, and the helmet ontop of it. When I looked up, I was more than pleased to see twenty figures on the ground with their gas masks on, with Twilight running around in terror, crying out, "I'm gonna die!" over and over and over again.

I walked up to Twilight, and grabbed her, forcing her to stop, "Looks like the one unprepared is you." I turned her to look at the recruits, "They aren't." I took off my mask and helmet, "Good test run people, good job." I turn back to Twilight again, "They're ready for gas, artillery, infantry, armored cars, weapon maintenance an' some hand tuh hand fer good measure. THEY. ARE. READY. Whether you believe me or not."

The thudding of footsteps drew our attention to the breathless private from 8th Company, a Texan. He was a rail thin man, and tall at that, even if he was bent over with his hands on his knees, "The Federation landed! They've been spotted 10 miles out to the South East!"

Ooooh f**k. "Twilight, warn everyone in town! You need to evacuate yourselves away from town, an' keep safe! Get to the trenches men!" I dashed off to the trenches myself, the nineteen troops running after me. I dropped into the 15th trench, and sprinted my way through the maze to the front trench. I found myself at the lip of the trench line, my machine gun ready, and safety off. I was ready, waiting for the enemy in blue fatigues to come down the road.

A hand was placed on my shoulder, "Wolfgang, come with me. We're going to mine the roads."