Chapter 9: Snow, Fire, and Bodies

The next morning, I'd woken up to the six ponies (and dragon) from the party, all watching me with shy smiles. They'd managed to keep me from screaming my head off by shoving a hoof in my mouth (no idea how that managed to happen) and they'd explained that we'd all assumed the worse, which hadn't happened. Instead of being assaulted in my sleep, Dash and AJ had spilled their drinks on me, and had tried to clean me up. But they were so drunk they thought that their hooves would work good enough, and in using them, accidentally opened my pants. I cannot tell you how relieved I felt to hear that news, nor how confused as to how hooves opened buttons.

"We good?" Rainbow and Applejack asked in unison.

"Hell yeah." With that, I wrapped them all up in a hug, and with a great deal of struggling, lifted the 7 of them up into the air for all of 3 seconds before I lost my balance, and we all toppled backwards forming a dog pile on me.

That was three days ago. Now, I was sitting in my trench, shivering against the cold. I'd be inside the dug out, but it was currently being renovated to fit a stove. I looked over to Zlat, who just looked bored. Lucky b*****d, you got fur. Bet you're nice and warm. "Feelin' alright Zlat?" I ask as nicely as I can muster. He just nods. I shiver again, and try to huddle deeper into my trench coat.

"So, you think those Diamond Dogs are finished yet?" he asked.

"Doubt it. They may be good diggers, but da cold 'as hardened the ground."

A raspy and annoying voice broke into our conversation, "Actually, we finished an hour ago. The ground close to the surface may be hard, but the deeper you go, the softer it'll get." I turned around to see one of the Diamond Dogs. Let me say this. Ugly. The head looked a lot like a dog with a bad underbite, the kind that has no redeemable features. The rest of the hulking mass that was called a body was vaguely humanoid, covered with a simple red vest. "I must say, we have outdone ourselves. We may just leave the gems out of simple pride in our work." He declared. However, my attention was focused on how he wasn't shivering, and I asked him about it. "Fur." And with that, he disappeared down the trench line. Lucky. I resorted to shivering again, trying to find something resembling warmth.

Man I was bored. Trench warfare sucked, especially in the winter. Our enemy may be miles away, but our commander had refused to let us leave the trenches except for dinner call, where we all lined up in the trenches, waiting to get our food put into our canteen holders, which acted like upright bowls. You know what, screw it, freezing fingers be damned. I was gonna read that letter I got this morning. I stood up stiffly, and shuffled into the dug out, trying to stay out of the way of my squadmates who were trying to assemble the stove. I got the letter out of my bag, and headed back out, the guys grumbling at me to stay out.

I sat down on the firing step, and opened up the letter to read,

Dear Wolfgang,

I know that you're fighting out there in Equestria, and it must be amazing! You get to see all the new aliens, and fight too! I've seen these horse things that insist on calling themselves ponies, and honestly, I don't know what to think. Apparently, refugees have been flocking to the country, but I haven't seen any.

So how's it going? I'm betting that you've seen some action lately. What's the food like around there? How about their entertainment? Any new friends? I guess that's all I have to ask about. Bye! O'Brian Liefer.

Well, that was short. I wasn't given much time to feel disappointment over the lackluster letter, as a snow leopard ran up to me in a runner's attire. Isn't he cold? Wait, no. Fur. "Is there a Wolfgang Piatek here? He's needed in the castle." I stand up again, a smile plastered on my face.

"Awesome! I can finally get out of this bloody trench!" and I took off sprinting through the maze of dirt. Once I left the trench, I made my way to the castle as angry looking storm clouds began to arrive. I'm gonna get caught out in the snow aren't I? I slipped inside the castle with little further thought. Inside, I shook off the day old snow that had accumulated on me, and walked off to the room with the massive table, since that seemed to be the main meeting room. I arrived at the massive wooden door, and did what came natural. I knocked. The door opened up to Twilight, who looked quite pleased to see me.

"Great! Now we're all here!" She dragged me into the new room. Inside, was the Mayor, my platoon Lieutenant Alexander, and Arrow Shaft, the blue sergeant of one of the squads I'd trained. I saluted to my Lieutenant until he returned it, and he gestured for me to take a seat. I dropped my bag next to the chair, and I sat down.

"Is there somethin' I can help you with sir?" I asked.

"Indeed. With the losses we've suffered, the mayor and I have agreed to integrate our troops. However, this leaves a hole in some of our units. With your past achievements in mind, it is clear that you are well deserving of a promotion. Thus, we've agreed to give you command of one of the local militia squads. Currently, there are only 6 others in the squad, but it is getting reinforced soon." Lt. Alexander tossed me a folder, inside were the pictures and dossier of some very familiar people. Or rather, ponies. The first two files were of Rainbow (who carried an M16) and AJ (who carried an M1919 Browning Machine gun), the other four being of some earth ponies and a pegasus. Smoky was a thin, grey skinned man who was armed with a M16 with a 40mm grenade launcher attachment. Bouncer, a massive bulk of a man with dark green skin, armed with an M14 and a bazooka. I couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to stay upright from the massive weight when I realized that he was an afore mentioned earth pony.

Next was a white skinned man, who carried with him a standard M16, but he carried with him extra boxes of ammunition for someone else's machine gun. His name was Wild Ace. A pegasus. Struck me as strange as a weaker man carried heavy ammuntion. The last member of the group was who I'd knew as Applejack's brother, Big Macintosh. And dear lord he was armed like hell was about to open up in front of him, and had the size of a small giant. He carried a .50 caliber M2 Browning machine gun. A machine gun that weighed over 83 pounds (38 Kilo's) and was 65 inches long (1,654 mm.'s). The picture of him actually showed him carrying the damn thing over his shoulders and wrapped up in extra belts of .50's. I knew who Wild Ace carried extra ammo now.

The thought of leaving my brother alone in the unit, and leaving the unit itself, left a hole in my heart. A hole that I tried to ignore. Instead, I tried to distract myself by asking, "When will I be receivin' reinforcements sir?" I ask.

"Well, Arrow Shaft will be your corporal," I glance over at Arrow, and I notice that he was carrying a grenade launcher and an M16, "And another pony, I believe her name was Rarity, will be joining you shortly as soon as she's finished her own training. However, I cannot guarantee the exact date for which you will be assigned the last needed soldier."

"Well, I'm sure that 9 guys will be enough." I say.

"But you're going to have three girls in your unit." Twilight corrects.

I turn to her with a flat face, "It's a generic term."

"But there's still girls in your unit."

I pinched my nose with a few fingers, "Damn it Twilight, sayin' guys is shorter than saying girls 'n boys or whatever. It's quick, generic, an' don't need all this stupid debatin'."

She huffs, "Still seems wrong."

"Whatever," I turn my attention to the Lt., "So this is effective immediately?"

He nods, "Yes, you'll find them in the 4th trench line. You can't miss it."

How can he say that? He just said the 4th trench line, and not where they are. I think it's pretty easy to miss them if I don't know where the hell they are. I stood up, saluted, and walked out of the castle. First, I was going to get my gear out of my trench, say my goodbyes, and find where the unit was in the fourth line.

I found myself back in the familiar trench, walking around the bend I passed a few guys walking the other way, and I found our dug out. Zlat was still sitting on the fire step, trying to stay awake. He failed to notice me walking up to him until I patted him on the shoulder. His eyelids slowly opened individually, trying to focus on me.

"Hey man. What'd'they want?" He slurred.

"I gotta promotion, an' my own unit."

He smiled his sharp toothed grin, but then it fell, "Damn, I'm happy for you and all, but now we can't share the same squad."

I punched him in the shoulder, "Yeah, now you can't keep beatin' me at the 'what's cooking' game." He chuckled as I popped back into the dug out, and grabbed my bag. Me and Zlat shared one last brotherly hug before I headed back off to my new unit.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Rainbow Dash

I was bored out of my mind. Living in a over-glorified ditch never seemed very appealing, which was more than I could say right now. I'd played several rounds of Go-Fish and War dozens of times with the others, and I'd read the letters I'd gotten to death, and wrote replies. There was literally nothing to do. Then, in came Wolfgang, wearing the most tired look I'd ever seen.

"Got some news for you." He says.

AJ responded from the other side of the room before I could even open my mouth, "And that'd be?"

With a tad bit of pride, he smiled, "I'm yer new squad leader."

"Awesome! Maybe we can finally find something to do!" I cried out.

He looked at me with an incredulous look, "Read a book, play cards, tell stories, hell, you could even help with the underground diggin' to make safer connections between the trench lines."

Surprisingly, he had a point. The library wasn't too far away, and I'm sure I could get a good work out from the digging. Before I could even move, Wolfgang froze, his eyes peeling open wide, INCOMING!" The sound of harsh whistling answered my question before it even arose, just as Wolfgang sprawled himself against the ground.

The earth seemed to heave as the explosions outside tore apart everything they landed near. Underneath the volleys, you could hear the alarm that told the townsponies to get to cover. Well, I guess I'm not bored now, now am I?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Wolfgang

The artillery attack lasted for hours on end. By the time the enemy guns rested, it was near 4 in the afternoon. Popping out of the dugout, what I saw made me go pale, and laugh at the same time. The enemy, in their great wisdom, had undershot us by mere yards of the front line. However, the barrage had scrounged up enough time for enemy troops to find their way here, and dig themselves a poor trench line a football field away.

Walking towards us was a small group of soldiers, dressed in blue uniforms were carrying a single white flag, and some metal detectors. I understood what they were doing. I dug out a white T-shirt, and pulled out the platoon radioman from a the next dug out. He was terrified at the thought of leaving the safety of the trench, but I wasn't taking a no for an answer. I pulled him out of the trenches by the collar once I got his radio gear on him, and holding my shirt high, I met with the correspondents from the Federation.

We stopped about five feet away from each other, each of us nodding to each other with some respect. I decided to speak first, "What do you want?" In my head, I was trying to remember what language they spoke. My mind settled on French when I heard the apparent leader speak.

A man stepped forward from behind three others who carried the metal detectors. Unlike his comrades, who wore metal helmets that had an additional ridge on the top of it that ran from back to front, he wore a cap. The bill was black, flat, and had golden olive leaves arching around the top edges. Unlike most hats, which would grip the skull, this hat stood as a perfect red cylinder. I'm guessing this is an officer of sorts. "We request safe passauge to gather ze dead."

I pat the trembling radioman, and without shifting my gaze at the enemy soldiers in front of me, I say, "Radio their request back to command, we'll see what they say." The man fumbled with his equipment, the clinking sounds of metal against metal being the only sound as we waited in silence. Eventually, he called command, and relayed the request. A garble of unintelligible words later, and he says, "Your request will be granted under one condition. For every soldier you put forward, we match with our own to make sure you aren't doing anything."

The enemy officer didn't seem to like this, but nonetheless, he nodded, "Shall we say, thirty men each?" The radioman relayed this, and we got an affirmative. This seemed to please the Fed officer, as he turned around to go back to his own trench. I turned around, walking to my own line. "You think they're gonna do anything?" The radioman asked nervously.

"No, I think they want to gather the dead. We may be brutal, but we always honor the dead, we always respect the white flag, and we honor our agreements." We finally reached friendly lines, and we made our way to our respective dugouts.

Arrow Shaft asked, "So what was that all about?"

"They want to gather their dead, an' a few squads are gonna need to go out there an' make sure they don't try anythin'." I answer, sitting down next to some of my things. I began getting everything ready, as I had a sinking feeling that my squad would be the ones sent out. I had just gotten my things put all together, when the Lt. popped in.

"Boys, duty calls. We're going to be guarding the Feds while they gather the bodies onto their trucks. One platoon from each side. Can I get a hoorah?"

We all answer, "Hoorah." Out of reflex, with a hint of disdain. The others gathered up their things quickly. While we made it towards the front line. While we walk, I gave out orders to my squad, "Mac, AJ, I want you two a ways back from where the Feds are gatherin' bodies. Be at the ready in case things go south. Everyone else, partner up with a Fed, an' help out with the bodies. The more people we got on clearin' bodies, the quicker we can git to our own trench." They groaned and cringed at the thought, but otherwise didn't object. They understood the full of this, that's all that mattered. I was only worried over how they'd react to the brutality we'd employed. As far as I knew, they'd never seen a dead body before. Please go alright, please go alright, please go alright. I thought to myself over and over and over.

All too soon, we arrived at the lip of the first trench. We were all struck with the terror of coming over the edge, and the enemy not holding their part of the deal. I looked to the left, and saw the other pony squad. To the right, the Racoonian platoon leader Sergeant First Class personally led. None of us were moving. Well, now or never. I got to the firing step, and looked over the edge. Sure enough, I could see the Fed trucks waiting on their side.

I sucked in a breath, Sure hope my armor will work if things go south. It was a stupid thought. My armor always held. "Wait for my signal." I say loud enough for everyone to hear. I hefted myself up, and out of the trench, my body shaking visibly. I stood up to my full height, and braced for the gunshot. The gunshot that never came. I looked harder at them, and saw the trucks start up. I took a few steps forwards over the lowered barbed wire, my confidence growing. A blue uniformed soldier on the other side of the field stood up out of his own trench, staring at me. I looked back to the three squads, who were staring at me as if they thought they could shoot lasers out of their eyes if they looked harder. "Come on guys, time for us to get going."

And so the others climbed out of the trenches, clutching their weapons in all nervousness. We advanced past the dead, mangled bodies, and maneuvered our ways through the minefield to meet the enemy.

Who weren't even carrying metal detectors.

I nearly ran, as the worry that one of them might step on a mine, and make the problem worse. Therefore, I made it to the enemy group before anyone else. Remembering the French I'd learned when I had to work in customs at sea ports, I shouted, "Arrêtez! Arrêtez! Il y a des mines terrestres ici!" (Stop! Stop! There's landmines here!)

Immediately, the brakes from the trucks squealed, and the soldiers froze in their footsteps, "Attendez une minute, nous vous guiderons à travers le terrain une fois que tout le monde sera ici." (Wait a minute, we'll guide you through the field once everyone gets here). The platoon sure took their time getting over to us, much longer than I felt comfortable with. Each passing second made my nerves feel more frayed, like something was going to go wrong any second.

When they finally arrived, I explained the plan to the Feds. They seemed about as nervous about it as I was, but no one was willing to complain. We helped gather the dead, in their various states of brokenness. Our guns had done their jobs bloodily well, in some cases ripping men in half or outright obliterating them into pieces. When we came across the dismembered, the Feds would take out what looked like a meat hook, only it had two hooks instead of one. We'd hook the body, and then the limb or limbs to the other part, and then load them up into the trucks. This dismemberment was made worse whenever we came across a crater from the recent artillery attack that had missed our trenches so spectacularly. The fact that these bodies had been in the cold and snow made it both easier, and harder to gather the dead. The bodies hardened in the cold, allowing us to grab them without the flesh peeling off, but the fresh fallen snow also hid the bodies. This sometimes resulted in us quite literally falling over and onto bodies. Something that ESPECIALLY didn't help was that periodically, the other pairs would throw up in revulsion. Not even the guy I was helping was immune to the work.

I could understand the fact that dealing with dead bodies was disgusting, but what I couldn't understand, was how they weren't able to numb themselves to this. The humans, I had expected something of a more subdued reaction. Death wasn't exactly a foreign concept to us, and the numbing of the mind was a common concept of dealing with trauma. Entire days could be mentally skipped through while at the same time performing a job that required little thought. Like labor. The ponies, I could certainly understand, even empathize with. Their world had been so peaceful that war must have been the most foreign of thoughts possible. Any dead could be gathered and buried before they started rotting. They didn't have that luxury here. All I could do was hope that they would cope with this the right way.

Hours passed without a hitch, and we managed to fill up most of the trucks and effectively emptied most of the field. It came to the point where I actually managed to relax and stop worrying. This illusion was shattered when the worse sound imaginable in this situation. The sound of a mine going off, and a man screaming an unholy scream of agony. On reflex, I dropped the ankles of the dead officer I was carrying, and hugged the ground like the man I was working with. I looked up just in time to see the dirt from the explosion before it dissipated into the air or returned to the ground. It was where I'd last seen the only pair of Fed body gatherers had been.

We. Are. Boned. I thought as I got back onto my feet, and ran towards the source of the detonation while hunched over. Already, the Feds in the trenches were yelling angrily in French, too fast for me to catch. A machine gun barked, the bullets cracking close to me. A little too close. I dove into a crater just as the gunner had began to refine his aim. Inside this massive crater was the same Fed officer from the negotiations, Mac, and Applejack.

"What happened?" AJ asked.

"Landmine, they stepped on a f***in' landmine!" I answered frantically.

"They must've gotten a bit too far away from your men." the officer deducted.

I pointed at him, "Get yer side to cease fire before we all get trapped here, I'll get over to yer hurt guys, an' see what I can do tuh keep them alive."

With that, I exploded out of the safe haven of the crater, and sprinted at full speed at the wounded. More guns were opening up, but from both sides. "Cease fire! Cease fire! Cease-!" I was interrupted when I felt as though I'd been punched in the chest, and I was thrown onto my back. I looked down at my chest, and found a hole over my right breast, a massive coppery bullet barely peeking out. I pinched the bullet between a few fingers, and pulled it out. The bullet was crushed in on itself from the sudden impact. I stuffed it into my pocket, got back up, and started running again and shouting for everyone to stop shooting. My side seemed to listen, but the Feds weren't, of course. The Fed officer was getting out of his cover, waving his arms and shouting at his side to stop shooting too. By the time I reached the small blast area, the Feds had ceased fire.

What I saw broke me out of my mental numbing. The first soldier, likely the one who'd stepped on the mine, was missing both of his legs all the way up to the middle of his upper legs. He was screaming at the top of his lungs in pain. The other man had gotten sprayed by shrapnel in the chest. His eyes were barely cracked open, and the only sound escaping him was the wheezing sound of his breathing.

"MEDIC!" I screamed as I fell to my knees next to the legless man, dropping my pack with me. I dug out my first aid kit, ripped out a couple of lengths of cloth, and started tying tourniquets on his thighs.

"Vous allez bien. Tu m'entends? Vous allez bien." (You're gonna be alright. You hear me? You're gonna be alright). I finished the final tourniquet, and looked for some sulfa and wound dressings. I lifted his stump, and poured the packets of sulfa onto the bloody stump, and then I covered it over with a couple of dressings, and copied my actions with the other leg.

This was when Fluttershy dropped in next to the other wounded man. I noticed that despite her very shy demeanor, she didn't gasp at the state of his wounds. Maybe she's getting hardened. I finished working the legless man by applying a shot of morphine. Only thing I had to do now was get him back his own lines. I grabbed hold of his jacket, and hefted him over my back. The man, drugged up and in immense pain, got the hint, and grabbed my shoulders to hold himself in place. I grabbed the disembodied legs, and started running to Federation lines. With each footstep, the soldier on my back moaned in discomfort. All I could do was offer up some comforting words while I tried to hurry. The blue uniformed soldiers looked at me with both anger and disbelief. I dropped into the trench, and carefully lowered the moaning man back down onto the ground.

I flew out of the trench like a bat out of hell, sprinting back to the small crater. The remaining man was now more aware of what was going on, and was grunting in irritation as he tried to sit up, only to be held down by one of his buddies, who was whispering something into his ear in French. One hand was on the wounded man's chest, while the other was holding up a bag of blood that was being fed into the arm of the unfortunate by a tube. Fluttershy was wrapping the last bandages around his chest when she noticed me.

"Help me get him onto the stretcher." She said. I looked beside her, and saw the already prepared stretcher. I nodded, and grabbed his ankles while Fluttershy got her hands underneath the guys' armpits.

"Ok. Now." she said, and we lifted as one to shift him over onto the stretcher. He cried out, but otherwise didn't complain. We grabbed the handles of the stretcher, and ran towards the Fed trenches. For the second time, and to the exact same spot I'd dropped off the first guy. They didn't look any happier to see me now than from the first time, their eyes burrowing into our skulls with absolute hatred. This time, I didn't have to enter. I just lowered it down to the hands that were reaching up to accept their comrade. The man who received the stretcher wore a familiar paint scheme on his helmet. A red cross over a white circle. Just like Fluttershy's. Just like before, I sprinted away just as fast as before, followed quickly by Fluttershy.

We finally got back to the main group, who'd already redoubled their efforts to gather the dead. If we'd been quiet before, any surrounding sound was sucked away as we worked with our heads bowed downwards in both respect and out of duty to our task at hand. By the time the sun began to dip to the horizon, we'd managed to finish getting the dead into the trucks. We guided the trucks back to their lines, and ran for our lives all the way across No Man's Land to our own trenches. The barbed wire was lifted for us just in time for us to duck our heads and dive headfirst into the ditch, and likewise soon enough that we didn't both wonder why they were using a different method for getting the wire out of the way. More bodies followed those of us who'd reached safety first, landing on us.

We fought back and forth at each other out of irritation of being crushed under what must have been hundreds of pounds. Granted, we didn't mean any of the insults, and our barbed words held no weight or bearing, but no one else would've been able to tell. Above us, the guys who'd held the barbed wire up for us were laughing their butts off. Most, if not all, of us gave some off-handed insults as we untangled ourselves.

Finally, we were all standing. It was now that we realized how empty the the trench seemed. So we asked the guys who were stepping back down into the trench about what was up.

"How do I put this lightly?" The man asked rhetorically while scratching the back of his head, "We've been, well, surrounded, so we've redistributed our manpower."

Well, f**k me sideways.

My squad started getting nervous themselves.