A War On Two Fronts

Sam,

We held the line, the griffs ran off and we have reinforcements arriving at Isla De Barro already as well as supplies. Mail has yet to get here, but with a war on I can see why they’d have problems. Pretty sure the ‘Rain, Sleet, or Shine’ thing doesn’t apply to war. From what I’ve heard they’re mopping up the enemy in Baltimare, but you’d know more about that then me. When I heard there was fighting in Silver Lake I wanted to come on home, but there’s an ocean in the way and you know I suck at swimming. I’m writing this letter because I can’t stand the thought that something’s happened to you, and if it has… Well… I can pretend for a little longer.

Things here are rough to say the least, the troops they sent us are greener than a corn stock in summer, but it’s nice to have some guys to do all the hard stuff while we focus on what’s to come. I’m not sure how much of this will get taken out by the censor, but suffice to say we’re gonna make those damn birds pay for every life they took soon… For the moment, however, know that I’m safe and sound here on this little strip of mud. If you get a chance, could you send me some new socks… Oh, and Corporal Birch would like me to ask you to send some of that marmalade you made.

Your loving husband, Paige Turner.

Turner tucked the letter into an envelope and gave the glue tab a quick lick before sealing it and setting it on the table. His tent had been reconstructed almost exactly where they old one had been, the new one now had more personalization considering they had had more time to move in. For instance, Birch had set up a small table with a radio resting on it and Garnet had been working on whittling a little duck out of soap. Turner’s bit of personalization came in the form of a Griffon helmet hanging upside down from a hook at about chest height on the tent’s center pole, above it was a mirror.

The Sergeant tucked the letter into the pants pocket of his fatigues before walking up to the mirror, he was only wearing a tank top in addition to his pants and boots. He grabbed a small ceramic cup from his footlocker which held a badger hair brush and a small disk of soap, followed by a straight razor.

“When on the road to sweet Athy, hurroo. Hurroo. When on the road to sweet Athy, hurroo. Hurroo. When on the road to sweet Athy, a stick in the hand, a drop in the eye, a doleful damsel I heard cry ‘Johnny I hardly knew ye’.” Turner sang quietly as dipped the brush into the upturned helmet, which happened to hold water. Afterwards he swirled it around in the little ceramic cup, getting it all sudsed up with shaving soap. He began soap up his cheeks which had grown a bit of stubble in the past week and a half, this was the first bit of time he had had to shave since the battle. He continued humming as he finished and put the brush and cup back down. “With drums and guns and guns and drums, hurroo. Hurroo...”

Turner was just starting to shave when the door to the tent was pushed open with a light thud, the Sergeant briefly looked over before going back to what he was doing.

“Hey, Sarge.” Private Strider said as he walked over to his bunk and opened his footlocker, the pegasus rummaged through his foot locker for a second before emerging with a small journal and a pencil. Turner continued to hum as he shaved, carefully clearing up the hair on his face while occasionally rinsing the razor in the helmet turned water basin. “Did you hear we might be heading out to the Minotaur Republic?”

“Heard plenty of rumors since last week.” Turner replied as he turned to start working on the other side of his face. “From invading the Griffs head on to some sort of weird multidimensional army coming and clearing it up for us to the fucking Easter Bunny with a hand grenade…” He paused for a second. “What do you think? Mustache or no mustache?”

“Definitely no mustache, you don’t have the cheeks for it.” Strider replied as he leaned back on his bunk and began to scribble in his journal. “And it’s not a rumor, at least not according to Birch. Why do you think they’ve been dropping off so many replacements?” Turner finished shaving his cheeks and upper lip, at which point he put the razor down and splashed some water on his face to rinse off the remaining soap.

“Could be they’re just suring us up in case the Griffs get it in their head to attack again.” Turner said as he rinsed off the soapy brush which he followed up by putting his shaving kit away. He grabbed his shirt from the shirt by his table and pulled it on, then rolled the sleeves up as usual and buttoned the front. “Why they don’t send us back to the mainland to kick those fucks out of Baltimare once and for all is beyond me.” The man walked over to his bunk where his rifle was resting, he sat down and reached over to Birch’s radio. A quick flick of the nob and the static filled sound of music filled the air.

“You have family there, don’t you?” Strider asked, Turner rubbed his freshly shaved chin and shook his head.

“Silver Lake, closer to Dodge Junction than Baltimare, but the railway goes through there.” The sergeant let out a sigh and leaned back onto his bunk staring up at the tall ceiling of the cloth tent. “My wife is there… Or, she was… I hope she got out.” Turner said quietly as he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of trucks and marching soldiers throughout the camp. “I swear, if something happened to her… I don’t know what I’d do.” Strider could see his Sergeant was acting a lot calmer than he actually was.

The door to the tent opened again, both Strider and Turner looked to see who it was. Thomas was standing there with a tired expression, outside Turner could hear that the base was starting to mobilize for something. Both Turner and Strider stood up and snapped salutes, only relaxing when Thomas returned theirs with one of his own.

“As you were.” The Lieutenant said as he quietly walked over to the seat where Turner had just been sitting. The Sergeant simply sat back down on his bunk and looked over his CO, he was holding what looked like twenty envelopes or so in one hand. “First of all, postal ship finally arrived so... Mail Call.” The man looked through the envelopes and removed at least seven letters before tossing them to Turner. Strider got a few as well, some of them were apparently scented. “Secondly, I hope you all weren’t getting too comfortable here.”

“We’re shipping out?” Turner asked as he looked over the envelopes, all of them were from Sam, though the newest one was still over two weeks old.

“Yeah, as far as I understand it General Anvil thinks the key to getting the Griffs to stop attacking the mainland is to get them to fight us somewhere else.” Thomas explained as he adjusted his helmet, Turner and Strider looked at him with expressions that seemed to beg for more information. “Tomorrow, at Oh-One hundred hours, we’re going to ship out to the East and land on the Minotaur Coast. The exact details are hush hush, but…” The man sighed. “They’re projecting twenty percent casualty rates.”

“Twenty percent!?” Turner said as he stood up off of his bed and brought his hand to his forehead in surprise. He silent began to pace back and forth, occasionally looking at the letters which he had left resting on his bed.

“So if they land a hundred guys twenty of ‘em end up dead? That’s how percent’s work, right?” Strider asked as he took a seat of his own on his bunk, Thomas nodded. “And we’re going to be going ashore?”

“Well, the Second Division is…” Thomas leaned back on his seat, looking somewhat troubled by the news he was delivering. “You weren’t supposed to be in our unit, so you’ll likely be going ashore after we’ve secured the beachhead with your proper unit.”

“Bullshit, sir. I want to go with you and the Sarge.” Strider protested, Thomas sighed while Turner instead looked at the stallion. The Lieutenant shook his head quietly, Thomas could see that Strider wanted to help but there wasn’t much he could do. “Come on, Sarge! You’re the fireteam leader, can’t you ask for me to stay?”

“Quadrupeds aren’t suited for amphibious assaults, Private.” Turner stopped pacing to address the Private, his tone was calm and tired. “I appreciate the attitude, but you wouldn’t make it up under that sort of withering fire. You’re not invincible. One of those dead guys could easily be you.” That last bit seemed to hit home with Strider, Turner could see his expression shift to one of acceptance.

“He’s right.” Thomas added, looking at the Stallion. The pegasus’ feathers ruffled in annoyance as he scowled and looked at the floor “If you want to stay with Second Division I can maybe convince battalion to switch you over to logistics, but as it stands regs say we can’t have quadrupeds in combat units.”

“It’s okay, Lieutenant. I… I’ll take the reassignment.” Strider muttered quietly, his wings sunk a little as he looked at the floor. He picked up his notebook and pencil and made a couple final notes. “Truth be told, I wanted to be a writer before all this, y’know? Joining wasn’t my idea...” He looked at Turner. “I want to help, Sarge… But I don’t want to die. If I change over, I might be able to write about all of you guys some day. Y’know?”

“Yeah, kid.” Turner said as he patted the soldier on the shoulder. “You go and have a good life, live as long as possible, just remember when you’re writing that book to make me a couple inches taller.” Strider let out a soft chuckle before he tucked the journal into his jacket, he reached under his bed and grabbed a duffle bag. While he packed his belongings Turner looked at Thomas. “Anything else, sir?”

“That’s pretty much everything. Strider go ahead and report to battalion, they’ll send you to your new unit.” Thomas stated as he stood up, stretching and giving a slight groan. “Sergeant, I want you to pack everything you’re taking quickly, if possible, just in case they decide to move up our departure. First though…” He gestured to the letters. “Take a few minutes to read those, yeah?” Turner nodded, at which point he saluted.

Thomas returned the saluted and turned to the door, without much more fanfare he walked outside to likely go talk with the other fireteam leaders. There would be a lot of meetings between then and the invasion, so it wasn’t like they’d be uncoordinated, but it helped that the Fireteam leaders could prepare themselves. Turner picked up the letters on his bed and flipped through them until he found the oldest of them. As he contemplated opening it he heard Strider let out a slight grunt and looked over to see the scrawny stallion had hoisted his duffle bag.

“I’m goin’, Sarge…” Strider said with a slightly hesitating voice. “Thanks again, for saving my ass… And talking me out of trying to get it shot off again.” Turner stood up quietly and smiled, patting the soldier on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

“You too, kid.” Turner said with a nod, Strider snapped a quick salute which Turner returned quickly. “Watch yourself out there, okay?”

“You got it, Sarge.” Strider said with a nod and a somewhat sad smile, Turner watched as the young stallion walked out of the tent with his duffle bag on his back with his rifle over his shoulder, and his slightly too large helmet lopsided on his head. Turner sighed and sat back on his bunk once again, picking up the first letter and quickly tearing the envelope open before another distraction could come along. He took the letter from the envelope and unfolded it, instantly he recognized the flowing and flowery handwriting that could only belong to Sam.

The letter was about simple things, the weather and what was showing at the theater, a small parchment window into life back home before the war. The Sergeant found himself smiling as he read his wife’s words, he could practically hear her in his head, as if she were standing right next to him. He could, for a brief instant, pretend he was home. He could be far away from that damned hot island of mud where so many young soldiers had lost their lives.

Paige,

I don’t know what I should write, all I can think about is how we used to talk when you’d come home from work… So… Maybe something like that? My day has been okay, as okay as it can be at least. The air’s still pretty chilly, but I have a feeling we’ll be getting an early spring. I’m thinking of planting flowers out in front of the house when it finally warms up. The theater’s started showing some of those spaghetti westerns you like, sorry you had to miss them, but whenever you get back I promise we’ll find some theater that can play them if you really want to.

I’ve been trying to keep a stiff upper lip, lots of ponies around here are upset that you and the others were taken so quickly, but I take comfort in knowing that you’ll be there among all those young stallions. Someone has to keep an eye out for them, right? I don’t know if you’ll be with them after training, but at the very least you’ll probably have Tom to hang out with.

It’s not the same without you here, I don’t want you to feel sad about that, I just want you to know how much you mean to me. I’ve played the songs you recorded for me at least a dozen times so far, but it doesn’t have the same feeling as when you play for me. I used to think that darn harmonica was annoying, but… I can’t wait to hear you play again.

Your loving wife, Mrs. Samantha Turner.

P.s. The next letter I send should have the ring I ordered for you inside! Hope it’s the right size!

P.p.s. I sent a few pictures with this one so you’d have something to remind you of me!

Turner put the letter down and picked up the envelope, running his fingers inside until the brushed the glossy photographs within. He slowly took one out and looked the black and white print over, Sam was standing in front of the camera beside the barn. She was smiling widely and wearing her warm wool coat and other snow attire. The Sergeant smiled a bit wider and set the photo on his bunk, then removed the second photograph. He was surprised to see that this one was taken inside, with Sam laying next to the fireplace… Wearing her best smile and not much else.

Turner blushed faintly and removed his helmet from where it had been resting, he took both photographs and tucked them inside the liner. The man placed it on his head and set the letter to the side before picking up the second envelope, as he expected he felt something a bit heavier inside. He opened the envelope and reached in, quickly withdrawing the simple gold wedding band and slipping it on to his finger. It was a little snug, but not by much. The envelope still felt a little heavy, so he felt around inside and found something he hadn’t expected to find.

From inside the envelope he withdrew the rosary beads he had behind when he was drafted, he quietly tucked them into his shirt pocket before withdrawing the letter from the envelope. He wasn’t sure what this letter or the other letters would say, but if they were anything like the first one he knew he’d likely be feeling a lot better by the time he was done.

The afternoon sun once again was blazing across the sky in the northern mountain areas of Evergreen County. The distant sound of artillery echoed through the hills and trees, punctuated by the sharp chattering of machine gun fire. Sam was doing her best to ignore that as she drove down through the mountain pass back towards Silver Lake. The road she thought would take her to safety had been captured, recaptured, and captured again. Each time she lost a day’s progress in getting to safety, so she had decided that after a week or so of doing that it would be better to go back to Silver Lake and find another way to go.

As she passed through the last of the mountains and looked out across the flat plains to the south she was greeted by a sight smoke pillars rising in the distance and the streaking lines of smoke that artillery left in the sky as the arched down onto the small town, or from the town outward to locations on its outskirts. Scattered among the fields were large shell craters. As Sam reached a crossroads she turned right, back towards her house. Sam looked down at her abdomen for a moment, patting it softly and taking a deep breath.

It had been such a beautiful landscape, the only smoke that’d be seen in the sky would come from someone’s fireplace or a campfire. The plains that had rolled so slowly and calmly were pocked with gashes from explosions or scorched by flames. Sam quietly sighed as she kept driving, hoping that when she crested the next hill and saw her home it was still in one piece. As she was coming up on the hill she saw a vehicle coming the other way go over the top, followed by several others. All of them were painted olive drab, each had a machine gun mounted in the back.

Sam pulled off the side of the road as the vehicles kept driving, she could see the figures operating the machine guns were ponies. Many of them, like their vehicles, were covered in mud and dirt. They looked tired… Defeated. One that was looking back at Sam couldn’t have been older than seventeen. When they had passed she pulled back onto the road and continued to drive up the hill until finally she reached the top. Her eyes went to the familiar location of her home, and thankfully it was still there... She kept driving until she came to the turn for her driveway, her thoughts would flick back to the stallion’s she had seen driving by.

Upon arriving back home she parked in front of the barn as always, her thoughts turned to what her next plan should be considering that it seemed the county was a total warzone. It seemed that claims the Griffons had been pushed out of Baltimare and back to the sea had been overstated, that or they were landing troops somewhere else now… Sam didn’t care where they were coming from, she just wanted them gone.

With a sigh she got out of the truck and turned off the engine, it seemed that the house was far enough and unstrategic enough that staying put would likely be the best option. After all, the house was pretty much exactly how she had left it, the only exception being the artillery crater out in the field behind the house that hadn’t been there before she left. The woman made her way to the barn and opened the large doors. Inside was Turner’s truck from the human world and a great deal of other junk… Of course, it was all strategically placed junk. Sam quickly unloaded what supplies remained in her truck, which she hid in a couple barrels and crates. The gun cases she opted to hide in the engine compartment of Turner’s truck under the hood. It was spacious enough to hide the handguns.

The rifles were a tad more difficult but she managed to hide their cases among some left over wood that had been used to sure up the roof of the barn. If the Griffons did end up coming she didn’t want them finding those guns and taking them or doing something else because she had them. She closed the barn and walked towards the back porch, as she was walking she began to hear something in the distance. The loud wail of the air raid sirens had begun to waft over the hills again, prompting her to look up in the sky.

Overhead she could see at least forty griffons flying in formation from the south east, accompanying what looked like large flying chariots. There were fifteen of these chariots, also flying in formation, making their way towards what she guessed was the Equestrian lines. She watched as several pegasi dropped out of the sky in pursuit, engaging in what looked like a brutal dogfight while the chariots continued on their course. It was entrancing to watch, large puffs of black smoke began to appear in the sky accompanied by explosions as the artillery that had been lobbing shells earlier had no apparently switched to anti-air.

Sam stopped staring and ran inside when one of the chariots blew apart mid air in a massive explosion, outside she could hear the battle on the air and ground escalating. The woman ran to the dining room table and ducked beneath it as more shells began to explode not only in the air but around her home as well. For what felt like ten minutes the fighting was further away, but after that she was starting to hear the distant droning of Equestrian bagpipes and the rumble of Griffon tanks.

Sam screamed when one shell detonated only about ten yards from behind the house, the noise growing louder and louder into a tremendous cacophony drowned out her cry of fear in a sea of war and death. By the twentieth minute she could hear screaming from both sides soldiers, the bagpipes blared their marching tunes while Griffon tanks shook the house as they rolled past outside. Sam had no way of knowing that the direction of the battle had shifted after the Griffon air raid, she had no way to know that she was right in the thick of the front lines. She could hear the chandelier crash down on the table above her as the two clashing armies went at one another outside.

“Come on, lads! No time to dilly dally!” She heard an officer shouting outside over the battlecries of who knew how many soldiers on both sides. “Secure this house, sergeant! We can use it as a forward aid station!”

“Grenade!” Another voice shouted outside over the noise. Sam shrieked as the front door was kicked open, her eyes widened as two metal orbs clattered through and skittered across the floor. She scrambled out from under the table and into the kitchen with only seconds to spare before two tremendous explosions rocked the house, a disturbing sound of clattering metal followed the blasts. Sam saw pieces of metal flying in all directions put holes in the walls, and after a couple seconds of shock she began to feel odd…

The woman hissed in pain as she looked at her arm and shoulder, blood was starting to run down from two large wounds that had been left by the shrapnel of the grenades. In a fit of panic she checked the rest of her body, thankful to see that it seemed only her arm had been affected. The woman began crying out in pain just as the the battle that had raged so intensely seemed to be pushing away, in the living room she could hear the sound of boots and hooves on the floor.

“You hear that?” A voice asked from in the living room, Sam struggled to stand up, gripping her arm with her other hand, before stumbling into the doorway. “What the fuck!?” She flinched as two soldiers raised their weapons at her. Once again, she’d looked down the barrels of weapons, and once again she was surprised to find she hadn’t been riddled full of holes. “Faust above… We almost shot a civie!”

“H-Help me…” Sam said as she continued to hold her arm, one of the soldiers set his weapon down and came over. He was a unicorn from the looks of it, it was hard for sam to Tell in her current state of confusion.

“Easy… Easy… Clipper, go get that doctor! Now!” The unicorn ordered as he helped hold Sam up and walked her through the living room, it was a wreck. The table had been damaged heavily, but not completely destroyed. Shrapnel holes were everywhere, and now Sam was bleeding all over the place. “You a minotaur?”

“H-Human.” Sam replied as the Unicorn sat her down on what remained of the couch, her ears were still ringing somewhat from the blast and as she looked at her belly it felt like she was seeing double. The Unicorn noticed that she was looking at her stomach, after a couple seconds of examining it himself he realized why.

“Fuck… You’re pregnant!” He exclaimed, Sam nodded. She didn’t feel right, her head felt wobbly. The unicorn looked over his shoulder and shouted in a much louder voice than he had before. “Clipper, where’s that Faust damned doctor!?” While the unicorn was sitting with her several ponies entered the house from the front door with stretchers carrying wounded soldiers and began to set up what looked like a hospital of some kind in the living room. “What’re you doing here?” The unicorn asked.

“I live here…” Sam replied as the confusion began to fade. “Holy shit… This hurts!” She looked at her wounded arm and bit her lower lip as the adrenaline began to fade and the pain returned. The soldier that had run out to get the doctor, a pegasus who was so covered in mud Sam couldn’t tell what color he was, returned through the front door with a familiar looking mare in tow. Doc Meadowbrook was the last mare Sam expected to see come through the door, the mare had been the one to confirm Sam’s suspicions about her pregnancy but the woman had expected the mare would’ve gotten out of town when the fighting started.

“Sam?” Meadowbrook said in surprise as she walked towards the bleeding woman, Sam could see she was wearing cargo pants and a simple shirt. All of them were covered in blood, a satchel of medical supplies was slung across her chest. “What happened? Why are you still here?”

“I tried to get out, but the pass kept getting shelled, captured, shelled, captured, and so on…” Sam explained as she hissed in pain. “So I came here, I thought it would stay quiet. Then some guy kicked in the door and tossed two grenades in.” Meadowbrook sighed as she moved Sam’s hand away from her wounds to get a look at what she was dealing with. “I feel all wobbly… My ears are ringing.”

“That tracks…” Meadowbrook said as she looked at the shrapnel wounds and removed a pair of tweezers from the bag. “It looks like it just caught a piece of you, all things considered you’re rather lucky in that regard…” Meadowbrook looked at the unicorn who was standing their nervously. “Go get me a suture kit and some hydrogen peroxide.” The soldier nodded and went back out the front door. “You’re also lucky they found me, I doubt most doctors are read up on Human biology like I am. Not that different from Minotaurs functionally, but...” Sam hissed as the mare examined the shrapnel with the tweezers, meanwhile the woman watched as several medics seemed to tend to the other wounded. “You may not realize this, but your arm isn’t the only part of you that’s hurt.”

“What else? Is the baby okay?” Sam asked as Meadowbrook put her hoof up towards the woman’s right ear.

“Just do me a favor and blow out through your nose.” Meadowbrook said, Sam complied and exhaled. She felt an odd breeze going out her ear, it didn’t feel right. Her hand moved to her ear and when she looked at her fingers she saw they had more blood on them. “You got a ruptured eardrum… Let me focus on your arm first, then I’ll check the baby, then we can worry about your ear okay?” Sam nodded, doing her best to remain calm. “You’re doing great so far, just keep calm.” The unicorn returned with a small brown glass bottle and a small plastic case that Sam assumed was the suture kit. “Alright, this is gonna sting.”

Meadowbrook used the tweezers to remove the pieces of shrapnel, as expected she heard Sam hiss and groan in pain. Without telling her the mare opened the bottle and doused the wound in hydrogen peroxide, prompting the woman to yell more in pain. Sam gripped a nearby torn up pillow as tightly as she could while Meadowbrook stitched the wounds closed before bandaging them with supplies from her medical bag.

“Why is this happening…?” Sam asked aloud as she looked at the various wounded that were now taking up space on her living room floor. Meadowbrook took a stethoscope from her bag and put it up to Sam’s belly.

“Everything sounds okay.” Meadowbrook said, neglecting to mention that she didn’t have many means of testing that other than the obvious and rudimentary ones. The unicorn that had been watching moved into the kitchen where Sam had hid from the grenade, he returned with the radio that usually sat on the counter. Somehow it had survived, and so he set it up and turned it on. The music that played from its speakers was solemn and slow, violins and cellos from the sound of it. “Sergeant, can we get her out of here?”

“We can’t evacuate anyone right now, military or otherwise…” The sergeant said apologetically, he walked over to the living room area and stood near the fireplace. “All our transport vehicles are following up the big push with troops and supplies, we won’t have evac for half an hour at least.” Meadowbrook sighed as did Sam, the thought of spending more time near the lines was not a happy one. As they reflected on this the music began to fade out, prompting Sam to think that maybe there was something wrong with the radio.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts… Princess Twilight Sparkle.” A voice announced over the radio, this prompted pretty much everyone in the building to look towards the radio. Many thought it would announce a surrender, or that they were to retreat. Morale on the front lines was low, the hope for victory was all but non-existent. They were facing the Griffons, the strongest military in the world.

“I am speaking to the citizens of Equestria who are on the frontlines, civilian and military alike, indeed all those that can here this broadcast.” Twilight Sparkle’s voice came over the radio, she sounded somewhat tired, but… At the same time, Resolute. Sam had known the princess for many years, but never had she heard that tone of voice. “No doubt that many of you are in fear of what is to happen, what will become of our Kingdom… To that I say… You have every right to be. We stand here, facing the greatest threat our kingdom has faced in its long and storied history.”

“A force greater than Nightmare Moon, or Discord, or King Sombra, or any of the other villians that have tried to take control in the past.” The room was silent, only the sound of guns in the distance could be heard. “Many states have fallen under the bootheel of Griffon tyranny, many fell within the first days of the invasion…” Some of the wounded sat up in their beds, and Sam could see a few soldiers lean outside to call in their fellows. Soon, the whole room was packed with soldiers tall and small. “Yet we stand here and now, a week later, still strong and still fighting.”

“It is true, the Griffons have invaded seemingly unopposed before. Their tanks, their airships, their sheer numbers makes it seem like they are invincible.” Turner, Thomas, and nearly a hundred other soldiers stood outside their tents as the speech played over the loudspeakers, the sun was setting in the distance and the various assault ships that would take them to the invasion sight were being loaded with supplies. “The are not invincible, we have proven that already.”

“We have driven them from the shores of Isla De Barro. We’ve held them in the south, and in Baltimare. We’ve destroyed scores of their treasured airships, and blunted the lightning speed of their tanks time and time again. If they are the unstoppable force, then we are the immovable object.” The camp was almost silent, every soldier listened intently. No matter what they were doing, some halfway through their meals, others with shaving cream on their faces, all with their jaws squared and eyes steeled.

“We shall go on to the bitter end, until the barbarism of the Von Adler Regime has been wiped from the face freedom loving nations around the world. There will be no surrender.” Turner and Thomas looked at one another, Turner suspected that perhaps Thomas had given the princess a few pointers on human speeches. “Thank you… And good luck.” The air around the base changed considerably, soldiers that had expected to be defeated seemed to find the footing of their courage.

Turner and Thomas looked at the loudspeaker as the soldiers that had gathered dispersed to prepare themselves for what would happen the next day. The fog of despair that had settled in the wake of the costly battle to hold the muddy strip of land dissipated considerably. The two men slowly looked down from the loudspeaker and at one another.

“So… I take it she’s the one who does the smooth talking in your relationship?” Turner asked flatly, Thomas’s expression shifted to one of surprise as he busted out laughing. “Jeez, Tom. It wasn’t that funny.”

“Not laughing at your line, just… Laughing in general.” Thomas admitted as he took a few deep breaths and calmed himself down. “The absurdity of this entire thing is just now setting in.” Turner sighed and looked at the ground, his expression was far less jovial than most other troops. Thomas was pretty good at picking up when something wasn’t right, and anything that bothered a fireteam leader could be an issue. “Come on, what’s bothering you?”

“Letters from Sam.” Turner replied as he and Thomas began walking through the camp towards the mess hall. “She’s pregnant…” Thomas stopped walking while Turner continued on, after a couple seconds he rapidly shook his head and sped up to keep pace.

“Pregnant? As in… With a baby person?” Thomas asked.

“No, a baby elephant, of course with a baby person!” Turner replied sharply, Thomas sighed but kept pace with the sergeant. “She’s home, pregnant, alone, and for all I know stuck somewhere in Griffon Controlled territory… Or worse! And there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it!”

“I know, it’s shitty…” Thomas admitted as the two approached the mess hall. “I need you to keep your head clear, though. Especially now.” Thomas stated firmly, Turner stopped walking and turned to face him as if he was going to yell. He stopped himself though. “Damn it, men’s lives are going to be relying on you having a clear head tomorrow, understand?”

“Loud and clear, sir.” Turner replied firmly before turning and walking the rest of the way to the mess hall without waiting for Thomas. The Lieutenant watched the Sergeant as he walked up to the door and yanked it open, he followed quickly behind and was greeted by the smell of real steak and fresh smelling mashed potatoes, as well as other fresh foods for pretty much every species on the island. Many of those eating didn’t realize it would likely be their last meal, but for Turner, Thomas, and a few of the more observant soldiers that fact was not lost on them. The mess hall was a large room with five rows of long cafeteria tables running parallel through the building. A door off to the side lead to the Officer’s Mess.

Turner grabbed a metal tray and got his meal before he walked through the drab bustling chatter filled structure. Eventually he came upon a portion of tables near the back of the room where there were less soldiers present. Thomas opted to eat with other officers, though he did take note that the Sergeant seemed to be at least trying to work things out.

As Turner sat eating quietly he was joined by Corporal Birch and Corporal Garnet, both of whom seemed less aware of why they had received such a special meal. Birch was sticking mostly to vegetables while Garnet was eating as much meat as he could get.

“Hey, Sarge.” Garnet said as he looked at the Sergeant’s tray, noting that he had yet to finish his steak. “You gonna eat that?” He began to reach for it only for Turner to hold his fork up.

“Yes, touch it and you’ll need a new hand.” Turner replied as he rubbed his brow, after a couple seconds he slipped his hand down around his neck and slipped his hand into his uniform. Birch and Garnet noted that the Sergeant was quietly clasping an odd looking necklace with wooden beads and an odd cross at the end. “Sorry, Garnet… Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s all good, what’s eating at you?” Garnet asked, tilting his head slightly as he began to cut into his food.

“Yeah, and what’s that necklace you’re fiddling with? Never seen you wear it before.” Birch added, Turner sighed and looked around for a second before he tucked his rosary beads back into his shirt. Birch noted that the Sergeant was gripping a gold wedding band on his finger, twisting it back and forth. “Trouble at home? I know the mail came in today.”

“Wife’s pregnant.” Turner said simply, Birch and Garnet looked at one another. “Last I heard she was still in Silver Lake when the Griffs pushed in, I thought we’d cleared them out of Baltimare but from that speech we just heard it sounds like they’re still there…” Turner rubbed his temples and took another bite of his food. “God knows what else they aren’t telling us… But that’s not important. You all squared away? All your gear packed?”

“Yeah, we’re good to go.” Birch replied, the minotaur dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin before looking a clock on the wall nearby. “Just a couple hours until they start loading us up, huh?” Turner nodded while Garnet seemed more focused on his meal. “Those griffs won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Wonder where we’re landing.” Garnet added, Turner shrugged. He didn’t have an answer, and he wasn’t about to tell his men the odds. They didn’t need that weighing on their minds for the entire trip to wherever it was they were landing.

“Just remember your training and keep your head down, do that and it won’t matter where we land.” Turner said firmly before he finished off his plate. “You should know... Strider’s been transferred out to a Quadruped Unit.” Garnet and Birch looked a little sad at the news, Turner had to admit he missed the scrawny stallion, but it was for the best. “We won’t be getting a replacement until after the landing, but we’ll be moving up with the rest of the squad so it should balance out.” The sergeant stood up and grabbed his tray. “I’ll see you on the ship…”

Turner went and returned his tray, after which he left the mess hall and began to walk around the camp. He eventually made his way to the western beach near the docks that had been erected for the troop and supply ships. The Sergeant took a seat on a rock and tossed a couple pebbles out into the water while watching the last few rays of sunlight dwindle to nothingness. His thoughts were on home, on the letters, and the woman who had written them. As far as he knew she was alive and safe, that would have to be enough for him.

As the stars emerged in the sky and the lights in the harbor illuminated the decks of the ships Turner could feel a heaviness in his heart he hadn’t felt in a long time. He watched as vehicles and landing craft were loaded onto the ships, meanwhile naval ships were waiting out in the harbor. They all looked like something out the First World War, heavy looking and cruisers destroyers, all with big smoke stacks and guns like tree trunks.

“God… Preserve and protect my wife and unborn child… Give me strength in the coming battle… Give me the wisdom to lead my men through alive.” Turner said quietly as he bowed his head in his solitary seat on the coast. “I’ve got to get them through this meat grinder in one piece.” The man sighed faintly while watching the waves come in to the shore, illuminated by the pale light of the dock lights.

At twenty hundred hours the order was given for the first soldiers to embark onto the assault ships, as the Second Division and the other bipedal units would be the first to land they were also first to board. Turner, Thomas, Birch, Garnet, and their entire squad were some of the first aboard. Eleven souls among the thousands that would be going to invade some far away and unknown beach in the morning hours. Thomas managed to find a bit of space to gather both fire teams of the Squad, his men were mostly minotaurs that Turner didn’t know quite as well. While Turner trusted them, he wasn’t as well versed at talking to them.

The room that they were crammed in was hot and filled with chatter, the briefing wouldn’t begin until the ships were underway or Oh-One hundred hours, whichever came first. As the ship’s began to slip their moorings Turner looked at the clock, it was midnight… A full hour early of their projected departure time. The room fell quietly as Thomas walked to the front, it was a mostly dull room with metal walls and benches nailed to the floor. There was thankfully a whiteboard with a map setup, which would make the briefing somewhat smoother.

“Alright, Gentlemen.” Thomas said as he stood in front of the map and adjusted his uniform. “We are going to be landing on the beaches of the Minotaur Republic in the coming hours, on the Strait of Barbos.” Turner briefly wondered why they would’ve chosen that name, probably another pony pun… He shook his head, more focused on the briefing. “Doing so will hopefully sever enemy supply convoys and cripple their forces on the Equestrian Mainland, taking the Strait will also be vital to moving forces into the rest of the Minotaur Republic.”

“Our objective is to advance into and capture Acksyuk, specifically the crossroads on the outskirts of the village.” Thomas continued, gesturing to the location on the map. “Battalion has deemed that we don’t need much more information than this… We’ll be going ashore with the 33rd Changeling Regiment supporting on the left. Any questions?”

“Are we going up against tanks?” One of the Minotaurs in Thomas’ Fireteam asked, an older fellow who looked like he had been a professional soldier for most of his life. His name was Iron Will, a tough looking bastard if ever there was one. He had grayish blue fur and a navy blue crew cut, his horns were big, but his biceps were bigger.

“Intel suggests most of their tanks will be guarding the strait itself, but battalion has advised us to keep our eyes peeled.” Thomas explained, the ship began to rock a bit more heavily as it seemed the wind was picking up outside. No one else raised their hands or asked questions, so Thomas looked at the floor and adjusted his stance. “Get some rest, guys. You’ll need as much as you can get. Dismissed.” The group began to get up and file out, chattering among one another, wondering what the next day would have in store for them.