I stood stiffly, a giant green bag on my back that carried my much needed gear, and looking forward with a stoic expression. The aircraft shook a little when something detonated next to us. Ponies around me muttered, casting uneasy glances around. Fools. All of them. Power comes from within, the will to survive and fight must be brought forth in a blazing inferno of passion.
My nose twitched ever so slightly, the air rank with sweat and urine. Ponies who lost their grit a long time ago. Sadly, Denza squad mostly consists of these dimwits. Those who have seen war in multitudes, also stand prone, head down in prayer to the Two Sisters. May they watch over us.
My strained ears flicked back and forth, catching snippets of whimpers and whispers. Fear lacing all of them. The trembling of a voice when they know their demise is certain. The shuffling of armored hooves against the metal plates beneath. Straps and clips banging against combat armor, issued out to everypony on their first day. I am no different in that respect.
A louder boom this time, shaking the aircraft considerably. Dust rained down on armored heads causing some unintentional sneezes from those unlucky few. I took this moment to glance out the window, not daring to look out of it till now. Even I gave in to fear, it is natural, but one mustn't do it on the battlefield where it is between life and death. Fear hides in the shadows and strikes when most vulnerable. Can only be deflected and cast aside by those willing to do so.
Outside the ashen window, there lay a network of trenches, barbed wire, and craters. Yellow sparks and red explosions littered no-pony land. Despite my scrutinizing gaze, I could not make out which side was which, the battered tents and broken bodies all look the same.
"Kshh," the intercom sparked overhead, causing some panic in the rookies and grim acceptance in the veterans. Despite being somewhat of a rookie myself, I don't consider myself one. My expectations and beliefs are what keep me together, bringing me to face whatever gets thrown in my way. "Settling overhead campsite in five minutes. Get ready to drop."
I calmly and efficiently checked every strap upon the bag I wore, then triple checked again. Always be prepared. Motto and mantra is how I survive, keeping everything the same, no deviation. When nothing was to be found, I stood ever so still once again, my neutral mask never slipping.
That's when it happened. 3:24am, 2 minutes before drop. The right wing exploded, sending the aircraft careening. Screams and growls filled the air, atop of warning sirens and screeching metal. The world went lopsided as I groaned and shifted in my harness, the scenery outside, twisting and turning, never keeping anything the same.
Everything was cut short, the noise, the sights, and the smells. Everything disappeared in a split second when the hanger doors opened with a clang and the harnesses were cut. Then, just as fast, everything came back. The air whooshed violently around my ears; explosions and screams littered the sky, and nothing but soot was to be smelled.
I twisted and tilted midair, trying to right myself. In my floundering, I saw a few members of the Denza Squad hanging limply, falling at unnatural speeds. No time to think, only to do. I twisted once more and slipped a hoof into the hoop that would open the parachute that would save my life. 3,600 feet. Still too high. I spread my hooves wide, slowing down my fall and allowing a small amount of control in my direction.
I drifted ever so slightly towards a large open space near a wide trench. 3,000 feet. I pulled a hoof back to find the hoop again, but before I could find a purchase, a large explosion sent me reeling backwards. The air whooshing angrily, threatening to rip off my ears and limbs. The edges of my mane and tail were singed, but wholly I was intact. Immediately, I spread out my hooves once more, sending me violently upward.
2,700 feet. The explosion sent me way off course, yet I adjusted as best as I could and pulled the hoop, hoping my maintenance kept my parachute in tip-top shape. Another tug upwards as the parachute bloomed above me, slowing down my certain-death speed. This one moment, I gave in to my curiosities and glanced around me, wondering how many of the Denza Squad made it.
Originally, we consisted of thirteen Earth Ponies, nine Unicorns, and three Pegasi. In the sky, I only counted twelve parachutes drifting downwards. As I watched, a large object streaked upward, cutting through somepony's parachute, opening a huge hole. I watched coldly as the owner plummeted, screaming, the torn parachute flapping around the pony's body.
Snapping my attention back to the task, I mentally kicked myself for getting too close to the ground without being prepared. Tucking in my knees quickly, I only had a few seconds to prepare before a sharp agony pierced through my joints. As quickly as I fell, I popped back upwards, pushing through the pain. Pain is not needed on the battlefield.
As quickly as possible, I snatched out my bowie knife from my bag and cut the ropes that held me to the parachute. Once done, I galloped as fast as possible to the nearest trench. While running, there was a whistling sound from above, and it took all of my strength to launch myself to the side right before an object splattered on the ground. I picked myself up and peered at the thing that would've killed me if I hadn't moved, then reared away in disgust. A pony, wearing the Denza Squad insignia, was no more. The momentum was enough for the pony to no longer be recognizable; the coat and mane color impossible to decipher among the soot, blood, and shattered bones.
It took no more than a few moments for me to finally get to shelter in the trenches. Three ponies were playing a game of blackjack when I scrambled over the barbed wire as fast as possible, without getting caught on the sharp bits. All three reached out for their weapons, but stopped once they saw the Denza Squad insignia on my military fatigues. One, a brown-coated stallion, pointed me down a trench, saying the major's tent was located there.
I thanked the trio, secretly keeping my opinions of card games, and trotted off. My little stroll through the trenches were enlightening, to say the least. Wounded soldiers, unfortunate civilians, and burnt-out medics littered the muddy pathways. Despite their predicaments and backgrounds, all of their eyes lit up when they saw me. This, I ignored. I have no time for admiration, if this is what this is.
The major's tent, a messy gray one, stood halfway in a clay wall. In front of the doors waited several more members of the Denza Squad. Despite my vow to stay stoic, I could not help but crack a small smile at the survival of my fellow squadmates.
"Ah, good, another one." A red pegasus with a wispy orange mane smiled at me as I came closer. "That totals up to 14. Let's go see the major, I doubt any others made it." He tipped his beret in respect of those who died, then led us in.
The inside of the major's tent was bland; nothing of interest. The only furniture was a couple of chairs and two tables. Both of which contained maps and battle plans. Hovering over said table, were two mares and a stallion, conversing in low tones. They didn't hear our initial presence, so the pegasus from before, coughed a little.
"Denza Squad reporting for duty."
"Ah, good good." A soot-strained purple mare looked up and gave us a weary smile. "Who's the Squad Leader?"
"...Squad Leader Briar didn't make it, sir. I am the next ranking officer." The red pegasus stepped forward, slightly tilting his head upwards.
"And who may you be?" The gray stallion stepped forward as well, looking at him, scrutinizing.
"Second-in-Command Fiery Red, sir." Only then, did I notice the two stars pinned upon his chest. I looked down at my own chest and saw five stars. I had a long way to go.
"Commander Fiery, I want you to split up your company. I need four groups of three, and a pair. I trust your judgement on who should go with you. Once you are done, report back to me." The major snapped off a salute, and the rest of the ponies snapped off their own, including me. Following our crisp salutes, our commander started putting us into teams, second-guessing himself only a couple of times. When we returned to the major, I was teamed up with a purple mare with green bangs, and a burly orange stallion with a mint green mane. The major started listing off on where we were to be sent; our location happened to be at Western Trench Two, with another company consisting of four other ponies.
I raised my hoof up to my brow once again, then followed my teammates towards our new post. The two of them started talking to each other, but I didn't care, so I paid zero attention to whatever they were saying. Before I knew it, we had arrived. The ponies stationed there greeted us with weary smiles, introducing themselves as well. One of the ponies stationed there was from Blue Squad, while the other three belonged to Celly Squad. Out of us seven, the burly orange stallion had the highest rank.
Instead of listening to anymore of their pointless stories, I took a look around my new post. Western Trench Two had a single mortar, a few wooden bunks including a table, some storage for food and the like, a tunnel that no doubt was a bomb shelter, and ammunition for both the mortar and the rifles that all of us carry. Taking the bag off my back, I placed it on the far end of said bunk, claiming it.
Nopony said otherwise. Nor should they.
***
Three days have passed, it has been quiet out here. Nothing of interest to me nor anypony else, as they seem to be engaged in a game of poker. I still haven't bothered to learn their names, why should I? They could die at any moment, I could die at any moment.
"Hey Hardball! Wanna play?" A dirty yellow stallion waved his cards jovially.
"No, I need to keep watch."
"Suit yourself!"
***
The next day, everything happened. The major ordered for us to use the mortar and our rifles to lay down some cover fire for the ground troopers who would be attempting to cross no-pony's land. I pulled out my rifle, a Springbuck 1896. This baby could fire and reload in under five seconds with no jamming whatsoever. The scope and leg-rest were calibrated to specifically service me in the best way that I could.
"When should we lay the cover fire down?" A mud-brown mare asked, her rusty red mane flappered about in the wind.
"The major said to count to five minutes, has it been that long already?" The yellow stallion stated, a small smile indicating he was telling a joke.
"I think we should lay down the cover fire now, keep the ferals on their toes." The burly orange earth stallion ordered, and then within moments, five of us had our rifles trained on the other side, resting the guns atop the trench walls. I peered through the iron sights, turning ever so slightly to get more of a broader picture. No-pony's land was all that I saw, mist clung to broken trees and ashen barricades wrapped with barbed wire. Craters from mortars decorated the even land, as well as bodies from both teams.
"Fire at will."
The five of us moved in sync, fired, then pulled back the bolt, loading in another round, then pushing the bolt back in. Then fire again. Repeating the process, the five of us were spraying bullets everywhere, causing some panic from the other side. Shouts and yelps floated to my ears that were barely peeking out of my helmet.
"Quick, lay down some mortar fire!" The two that operated the mortar started shoving shells in and firing. The resounding boom that followed caused more anguished screams. We had orders, so we had no choice but to keep on laying it down.
Nopony was sure how long we stood there, firing round after round, but it was when the other side finally got their wits and fired back. The five of us immediately hit the deck, rolling in the mud to a better hiding spot. We sat there, maybe for five minutes, when we had to move again because of a menacing whistling filling the air.
"Mortar! Into the bunker!" The orange stallion shoved us forwards towards the bomb shelter; we scrambled even faster when the whistling got louder and louder. The seven of us barely made it in when the ground behind us exploded, showing everypony in mud and gross water. Then the room got filled with screams.
"Foli!" The purple mare from my squad rushed over to the green stallion that was pinned beneath the rubble. He was yelling in agony, whimpering out words that sounded like 'my leg.' The purple mare was crying, stroking his yellowish mane in a comforting way. I stared at the scene with numbness.
"C'mon lassie, we've gotta pull the rubble off of 'im." A rusty brown stallion put a hoof on the purple mare, before heaving the debris off of the green stallion. It took only a second, but then the rest of us were hauling rocks and wood. Before long, we were able to see the rest of the stallion. One of his hind legs was completely bent out of shape; bone was even jutting out, and blood pooled everywhere.
"We've got to bring him to the infirmary! Before he bleeds out!" The orange stallion called out, finally snapping the purple mare's stupor. "Grape, Hardball, bring him to Pura Vida. Now!"
I snapped a salute and helped the purple mare haul the green stallion onto my back and we cantered out. I barely casted a look at the ravaged trench and kept my pace as we headed towards the infirmary tent.
The journey lasted maybe 20 minutes, with my occasional stumble and the purple mare constant worrying, keeping the stallion on my back safe and secure. We barged into the infirmary tent, the mare yelling something about 'Foliage being wounded' and before long a yellow unicorn mare with bright green eyes came forth. I hauled the limp stallion to an empty bed and stepped away, letting the doctor fret over him.
"Can you heal him?" The purple mare's voice was tinged with worry.
"I'll try." Came the reply.
***
I sat, contemplating, as I hoofed a card to the mud-brown mare. It's been a week since we lost our seventh member, and the yellow stallion finally convinced me to play cards. Said stallion glared at his opponents than at his cards. He made a harrumph noise and threw his cards down onto the makeshift table. He opened his mouth as if to say something but another voice interrupted.
"We've got orders to cross no-pony's land." The orange stallion said, ever so sombrely. We, the remaining six got up and got our saddlebags, loaded up with hoof grenades, bowie knives, ammo for our Springbucks, and of course the Springbucks themselves. "Twi Squad and Woona Squad is going to cover our advancement, so gallop straight and true."
We snapped off our salutes, ones that could be our very last. We positioned ourselves at the ladders that led out to the battlefield. We took one last look at each other, then with a silent war cry we leaped over the wall and charged.
As we galloped, I could only think about my squadmates. Their antics as I watched on. I decided then and there, I wanted to join. If...no, when we get back, I will make it my mission to become friends, to enjoy as much as I can. With one last glance at my companions, I smiled grimly and continued my charge.
Author's Note
Soldiers. That have my utmost respect. I mean no harm nor discriminatory motives with the folks in the army. Those who were and those who are deserve our outmost respect as they fight the wars and battles that should not be fought. The amount of horrors they see is an unprecedented amount. The least we can do is give them a small smile.
I hoped you enjoyed this as it should be enjoyed, and wish you a pleasant day/night.
Kudos to soldiers, no matter the time nor place, you all deserve the highest of kudos.
Kudos to "1917" and "All Quiet on the Western Front" for inspiring me, great movies. High recommendations.
