Fallout Equestria: Into the Abyss

Hearth's Warming came and passed into the new year under Luna's reign. We held a small get together at the barracks, Buckminster and a zany mare: Tootsie who came from Manehattan as well concocted a brew of hard cider to taste like oven baked brownies. Buck sneaked in the contraband from somewhere as we were no longer allowed to have alcohol in the barracks. They still managed to get in one way or another. Tootsie did her magic and word was passed around the company for the New Year's party. It was expected that ponies from other units would show up and Tootsie only made a sizeable batch for everypony of a company size element to have one cup. So if anypony wanted seconds, they would have to arrive early. I liberated a drink from a passed out soldier who couldn't hold his own giving me a second run. The barrels were empty soon enough and the late arrivals grumbled and went off to secure their drinks else where. All anxieties about the war was far from our minds as good company was all we really needed and had. We played a few games and sang songs completely forgetting we had to muster early the next day.

After waking up from the second most worst hangover in my service, we assembled on our unit's section. Acting Squad leader Daisy and SFC Plaid Piper assembled 2nd platoon as the other platoon's commanders did theirs and onward to the company and battalion levels. The medical platoon formed up at the tail end, pretty much the back of the regiment's formation. The Colonel would address the unit, nothing was mentioned about the contraband, we suppose he knew but let it slide under the rug.

"Happy New Year Delta."

she said simply and after checking accountability for each company, we were sent off to the CIF building to be issued a gift, which was the best word to describe it as from the Ministry of Wartime Technology. We filed in by company where we turned in some of our older and damaged equipment, our steel helmets and covers along with them. In return after signing for them are newer, heavier and somewhat bulky Kevlar lined flak jacket and ceramic plates. The helmet now dubbed ACH for Army Combat Helmet was also made of kevlar. The inside was lined with velcro where we could apply more comfortable anti concussive padding and a better chin straps. The older model was a simple suspension ring that only had about an inch or less of space from contact with the head and steel. More often soldiers couldn't fully adjust it properly as it was a one size fits all. The new kevlar had multiple sizes and the padding could allow a pony to fit their head securely and not bounce around. It was said that it was resistant to 7.62mm rounds, after seeing so many head injuries and helmets punched clean through, we were skeptical.

After spending nearly half the day funnelling everypony through, we were dismissed to our regular barracks duties, stowed our gear and did absolutely nothing. A new thing down the pipe from Mental Health were audio log recorders. They felt it necessary for soldiers to record and send in these audio logs as they deemed it that it was easier for a pony to talk about his or her feelings than to write about it. Our mental status was guarded quite privately and only the Chaplain and medics usually were the first to hear from a soldier about their situation, not some long far away psychiatrist who had little to no helpful input on how to address problems so far removed than what an average day to day civilian goes through. The experiment was sent through and it took only a month until hardly anypony was sending them in anymore. The tried and true Open Door policy of Chaplains, officers and docs reigned supreme. Audio logs were still being sent to us and eventually allowed to be used as an alternative to letters.

Plaid Piper thought it was nothing but a joke and nothing could get him to say anything on the audio recorder for the medical professionals to analyse. When he eventually did send his weekly updates, he would always have a smirk on his face. Months later I was called in to Battalion with Sgt Piper. There in the BTN Commander's office was a psychiatrist, and our CO. They evaluated the recordings before hoof and wanted to know from the good Sergeant himself his own state of mind. I was just a witness.

"Sergeant, we looked over your files and."

The BTN was having trouble putting her words together. The psychiatrist with her clipboard and quill in a levitation spell studying him and CPT Sharp, Delta's newly appointed commander had his hoof covering his mouth while trying really hard to conceal a giggle.

"So we've noticed from. No. It has come to our attention from your own words that... You have been hallucinating about aliens. You being abducted and being probed. From your logs it seems that this has been going on for weeks, up to a month. To be frank Sergeant. I don't know what's going on in that head of yours but somepony has to be the voice of reason here. Aliens, these little green bipedal creatures as you have describe them are NOT real."

The psychiatrist then interjected.
"Ma'am I don't think dropping the ball like this is the best course of action for Sergeant Piper. From his descriptions it sounded like what ever he had gone through must have been a traumatic incident and as a coping mechanism he is believing he saw aliens in order to deal with it. One of the many tell tale signs of War Time Stress Disorder. I find it best to go along with the story, see how his mental state unfolds so we can take him to a facility for further studies."

"So you're saying that we should go along with this lunacy. How can this army operate efficiently if we let problems like this continue on." The Commander retorted. She looked to me.

"Doc Line, you're the platoon medic. Has he ever mentioned to you about any of this."

"I think it is best for the Sergeant to talk to us about it." The psychiatrist suggested. She then looked to Piper and readied her quill and notes.

"Sergeant, if you can. Can you tell us what happened in your own words."

Piper looked over to the Captain who could no longer contain himself. A sharp look from the commander and the psychiatrist ended the antics. He still looked on in anticipation like he knew the punch line of a funny line from a movie he had seen many times. I was lost.

"Ach it was bout time. I dinnae ken if you were really listenin to them."

"So have you or have you not been seeing... Aliens."

"Nae. I just want to see how long until ye finally notice"

The Battalion commander dropped composer and slammed her head on to her desk. The Psychiatrist was puzzled and frantically trying to scribble notes. Sharp finally busted out laughing and the Sergeant joining him. The two were then chewed out for the episode and I just happened to get dragged along with them. Fortunately no one was in serious trouble, Piper was too good of a combat leader to let off and the Battalion Commander fumed out of the office. Piper had initially refused to record his thoughts for War Time Stress Disorder studies on combat troops and only did them when the Captain said he could tell stories instead. He then preceded to tell his alien abduction tales for a full month until someone in the Ministry of Moral took notice to make an inquiry. The practice was then dropped following the episode doubled that service ponies simply refused to do them. With the abundance of audio recordings we were given, it didn't surprise me that the good Sergeant had this particular episode recorded and later sent a copy to me to write about.

Replacements eventually came in to replenish our ranks up to full strength. They were dog eyed and eager to get at the enemy whose boarders were only mere kliks away from the FOB. The older replacements who survived Hill 300 were more confused and lost given the circumstances of being dropped straight into the combat zone. In there situation I would feel the same, it was only through having time to get to know and train with the soldiers around me gave me all assurance I needed to trust and rely upon the soldier next to me. The new guys were settled in and it wasn't long until the veterans began having fun with them. After all they may have been assigned to the company, but they weren't exactly one of us just yet.

SPC Skeedadle and myself were called over to 3rd Platoon's barracks. Inside the room in the males' section shared by replacement and two other Snow Drop Forest veterans, was a tied up buck in the latrines with his mouth gagged and left hanging upside down over the toilet. His head was just touching the water with some left over stool and urine that hadn't been flushed down yet. Apparently the new kid said he'd do anything to be accepted as one of them and the two ponies decided to pull a prank on him. They threw a small party which the remnants of one remained in the room with bottles of hooch and cups tossed about. The MPs took care of the perpetrators and the traumatised stallion we took to the TMC to check for any injuries. This was by far the only incident of hazing that I have known about. All others, if they even occurred were kept hushed and hid any evidence before a room inspection sprang up.

The replacements were not really well liked, they often got hogged down with extra duty tossed their way by the older guys. The Squared away ones were looked after but they too weren't safe. One could be eating with their squad one day only to be doing their oil drum cleaning detail the next. I don't ever recall such callus treatment when I had arrived, it was perhaps the endless cruelty and suffering these soldiers had endured for over a month had made them become so mean spirited. The surviving veterans of the Battle of Smokey Mountains were nothing but kind to us new soldiers. Their fighting had been severe but short, only a single day. Snowdrop Forest and Hill 300 were the worst and most misunderstood battles of the war, sadly overshadowed by the year long Siege of Stalliongrad. The severity of combat may shock a pony but it is the length of a hard campaign is what demoralised a soldier.

It saddened me and my friends from Delta that Aquamarine and I were rotated off the line to EVAC. SPC Skeedadle and SSG Bed Pan would remain in the company as they held senior rank. The new reforms from the lessons learned from Stalliongrad had deemed that younger and lower ranked medics took far too many "unnecessary risks" as they had put it. If only they had seen the ferocity of the fighting first hoof. It was the soldiers who took risks and disregarding their own safety in individual acts of heroism was what helped secured the victory. Higher command and rear echelon sees things differently than we do and what made sense to them didn't seem to be so to the soldiers in the line. My soldiers confided much in ponies like me, not one of them liked the idea to brace fire without a doc with them. It felt like a betrayal but orders are orders. I packed up my belongings to report to my new station in HHC 1/184th's motorpool for further assignment.

"Leaving without saying good bye mate?" Buck stopped me at the door.

"I'll be seeing you again."
I deadpanned. Not really wanting to say good bye. At the first chance I got, I would be seeing my friend again.

"When the stuff hits the fan you know, I know you'll be down the line if I get hit."

"You shouldn't jinx yourself Buck, it's bad luck"
He gave me a sardonic grin and gave me a sturdy punch to my shoulder. Daisy also came by to my "good bye party"

"You're so bad at comebacks Doc. Take care, alright."

I nodded and she sprung on to me in a hug. We broke off and she wiped a small tear with a hoof. The three of us talked for what seemed like an hour. Anything of topic to avoid the dread of our separation. Even though I was never really assigned to their squad directly, the two ponies were my best friends along with Lemon Squeeze and Jazz Light, even Sandbar. We were all what's left of our old breed and the times we shared were my most treasured memories.

When Winter Wrap Up had ended and the time to draw straws for which company would next occupy The Outpost on Hill 255, I would not be joining with Delta when they were chosen. The winter and deep snow around Hoofington had slowed the Zebra's progress. When that was cleared, they renewed their siege to destroy the city. Taking Hill 255 would be their objective as it was for us who had to take Hill 300 in order to have control of the land and then the city.

Vertibucks would fly the soldiers at night along with supplies and dust off back taking back any of the dead and wounded. The siege of the hoof would last several months with little much of a major offensive to take the heights producing very few casualties as the companies of the 184th rotated in and out regularly. The ponies there knew what was happening, they were preparing to brace the big attack that was sure to come. The casualties that did arrive at the Battalion Aid Station, BAS were quickly reassessed and then loaded on to trucks were myself and several others continued to reassess their condition until we reached a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital or MASH. The Fluttershy Medical Facility was destroyed prior to our arrival and was under construction for much of the siege. Aquamarine and I would get some news from our friends from the wounded coming back, so far they were still in high spirits even though they knew a large attack loomed over them.

PFC Tootsie, an earth pony mare from 1st platoon broke her fore leg on ammo storage detail. A box of 60mm mortar rounds was dropped on her and she and the box tumbled into the stock pile which ended up falling on her. Skeedadle tended to her injury when a fire fight erupted. The soldiers that were on the same detail paid no mind and continued on to loading the connex and jauntily strolled to the battlements like it was an afternoon stroll. The scene she painted was bizarre of the depictions such casualness of the troops under fire. The fight ended with a blast of a single round of the 120mm mortar. The crew were not exactly friends of mine but they themselves were friendly and odd. They were SPC Tea Biscuits and SPC Crumpets of Trottingham. The two mares had a style of loading and firing the mortar which involved theatrics emulating the posh snooty up nosed Canterlot Elite. They then dropped the act and immediately went into another one where Crumpets took another mortar round and stood on her hind legs waving the payload around from her crotch like it was a giant penis towards the boys who were always eager to get into the fight first. When Crazed Mango came in to EVAC a week later, he confirmed that the episode indeed happened as Tootsie had described.

An alert blared over the intercom that awoke us from our racks of a large Dragon being spotted in the area. The drivers of our MEDEVAC trucks were fired up and we loaded up our stores in anticipation of the raid. Reports were coming in that an Ancient Dragon was nearing the outpost but none on whether it was on our side or the Zebras. In the dark pre dawn hours we couldn't see any fire or unusual lights in the distance. Up in the sky, dark silhouettes of Pegasi circled in a formation waiting for the word to attack the dragon. As light slowly drew near another formation much smaller but larger in their stature veered towards the pegasi and a fierce air battle ensued above.

"Go get those somebitches!"

A soldier yelled and we cheered when the first kill was a griffon dropping gracelessly to the ground.

The battle above was only a mere feint to distract our fast air support, moments later we could see red flames lighting the hill and surrounding areas.

We loaded on to the trucks and rushed out of Miramare to where the BAS staging ground was set up. The pegasi now occupied with the Griffons over the Hoof would not be able to provide the much needed air cover we needed as the darkness faded to Celestia's light. The Dragon left the battle when the Shadowbolts lured it away from the outpost allowing MEDEVAC Vertibucks to land. The Dragon had done it's damage, the outpost was set a blaze and the mines surrounding it were cleared. This was only the prelude to the major offensive we were dreading. No word came from the outpost, their communications had been knocked out and only word we got was to get ready to receive a MasCal.

The Vertibucks arrived in relays dropping the wounded to BAS and we would continue the job to bring them to the hospital. The expectant group was large, many burned beyond recognition, those who didn't survive were put in body bags and carried off to a corner further away from the site. The Triage scene was vast, what looked like over half the company were brought in from the vertibucks. EVAC was sent in to assist and I was directed to Expectant while Aquamarine and her team were sent to where Immediate was. Most of the severely burned were wrapped in foil blankets on their litters and waited to be moved. The ones who could be saved but not too hurt were sent to Delayed. The criticals were sent to Priority and Immediate. The TCCC listed injuries and treatments dictated which section they would be sent to allowing space and resources for the more critically hurt to be treated and evacuated first. Expectants were left to the side as they were already close to death or that nothing could be done other than to help make their passing as painlessly as possible.

As I checked each body for vital signs I read each card taped on their bodies. Many of them I knew or wished I had more time to know them. It was heart wrenching to be the pony that normally be the one to come to their aid be the one who sits by them as they waited to die or barely live long enough to receive further treatment. Two of the body bags just zipped up had the name and rank of the pony inside. As I continued to do stabilise the ponies in my care using the meagre supply of my Aid bag and what was left in their IFAKS, I spotted the body bags of Skeedale and Bed Pan, the only medics on the scene. As far as I knew the survivors who still occupied Hill 255 had no medical personnel and a major zebra attack was imminent. To my luck more medical staff arrived to assist on the scene and I was relieved to restock my provisions. Another vertibuck landed and the wounded and dead carried off in litters and bags among them was my friend Daisy. She had suffered burns to 80% of her body but with the grace of the princesses I spotted her. She gave no response, and was declared dead on arrival by the Doctor. A body bag was dropped near me as the mare at the head stumbled. I cussed the soldier out for her carelessness.

"Careful YOU BASTARD! That's my friend!" I yelled at her.

I made her read the name aloud as she croaked before she could pick up the body and carry him away.

"Dark Oak"

Tears rolled down my face as I watched many of my friends, friends that I had fought and served along side for months with me cry in pain or carried off to the quartermaster for morgue detail.

The last Vertibuck acting as a CASAVAC was about to leave for the outpost when I asked the Senior Commander if I could rejoin my old unit. My request was denied and another team would be selected to go instead. I decided to hell with that and I hopped on bored with as much ammo and medical supplies I could carry. A reporter joined me sporting ACU's and body armour he somehow acquired. He was willingly going into the heart of the action with me, which I could admire him for unlike the welcoming party me and my buddies received before who were far removed and safe from the hell that is war. I was anxious for the whole trip which felt like a life time. The battle raged on over head with what look like no end in sight. A few griffons flew by to take shots at us but the gunners shooed them away with burst of their mini-guns. Below us a few vertibucks had been shot down, a couple sporting MoP markings on their sides. The rules of war were now gone. The short lived peace we had felt like a life time ago as we entered Into The Abyss.