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drewkittyGWOT VI: And The Little Children Shall Lead Them
I put a very high priority on disabling every bus I possibly could. I used mortars, covert raids, long range fires. We blew up public and private fueling stations. We destroyed repair shops and always destroyed any parts we could not steal. Any buses we laid hands on were driven well north and given new paint jobs before release to relief agencies, or carefully destroyed at once - usually with thermite, so not even axles or wheels could be salvaged.
I didn't carry what color the bus was originally painted or what accessories it might be equipped with.
This is one of the reasons why.
###
Bone-standard California vehicle control point. Wired in shoulders. One side of the highway blocked with destroyed vehicles. A upside down enemy scout vehicle, crosses painted over with circle and slash as a visual aid to back up the threatening signs. A few farmer's gates chained together with sniper overwatch. Narrow foot passages for the refugees to percolate through, spreading them out for easier screening at the next control point a mile further on.
The sniper on overwatch saw the convoy as the lead vehicle stopped.
His orders - "Kill anyone who tries to open the gate."
###
The sniper keyed his microphone.
"Enemy convoy approaching the control gate."
"Fire."
"Unable."
A beat.
"Explain."
"The gate is being opened by children. Lead vehicle is a school bus full of children."
###
The kids had trouble with the bolt cutters but they managed.
One of them even brandished an AK. He could barely lift it, but it was the thought that counted.
Their sergeant was careful to stay out of sight. The only way the sniper could be certain of his existence was that the kids, unlike troops, often paused - then hastily performed exactly one task - then paused again.
###
"Salute."
This was not a direction for the sniper to show military courtesy.
"Five enemy vehicles, a school bus full of children, an armored car, two technicals and two stakebed trucks. They're through the gate coming up the road, they'll be there in three minutes. I think the armored car has a light cannon. The other three have machine guns."
"Gate's defeated?"
"Affirm."
"You just killed us all. Escape and evade at your own discretion. Out."
The -click- as the corporal changed radio frequencies was very loud in his ears.
###
There were four California soldiers, seven armed Gs, twenty unarmed Gs helping to run the point, and about a hundred refugees at the refugee control point.
First things first. The corporal called California Control. Briefly described the new tactic, called for help that would not be coming, let it be known that the line was breached and that he could not secure it.
Then he told his soldiers to get the refugees off the road and running into the fields. They were the survivors of more than one massacre if they had gotten this far, so they did at once.
One Californian, woken suddenly from sleep, sprinted after them with a long fabric bag over her shoulder. Looking like a guitarist left behind by the band, or a hotel valet really frantic for a tip.
Hopefully the enemy convoy would deploy and attempt to pursue them. But he doubted it.
Instead they could run and gun up into undefended areas, for as long as their ammunition held out and trigger fingers were fatally slowed by ...
"Priority of fires. Kill that fucking school bus and the short soldiers at any cost."
"The kids?"
"THE SHORT SOLDIERS."
###
Unfortunately, the signs threatening land mines were a weak lie. Too much territory to control, not enough ordinance.
However, the school bus driver did not hesitate. Even if he did hit a mine, it would protect the armored car just behind.
###
The California soldiers took what cover they could. Waited to see if the vehicles would closely approach.
Instead, the armored car put a shell into each chicken pit using both distance and armor to form an impenetrable shield from the California small arms fire.
Seeing his doom approach with each exploding foxhole, the corporal suddenly stood and fired repeated bursts at the front of the school bus.
He just had time to hear a sudden chorus of cries and wailing before the machine guns of the technicals tore him to pieces.
###
The sniper saw, of course. It was his fault.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Even with the corporal's death as a graphic object lesson.
So he took a bead on one of the technicals and dropped the machine gunner.
Like a well oiled machine, which it was, the turret of the armored car turned and scanned the field in which the sniper lurked.
The barrel quivered like the nose of a hunting dog.
Turned to point directly on.
The sniper knew it was death to run.
He might survive the shot if he just held still.
He didn't.
###
A few minutes of short machine gun bursts later, nothing nearby lived.
A quick check for enemy documents and equipment. A decision not to light the tents, there was still the chance of surprise.
"Enemy activity suppressed," prompted the armored car gunner.
"Roll out."
It took a trainer dismounting and slapping at the wailing children to get them back on the school bus.
Perhaps they could handle the machine pistols of the dead Californians easier than the AKs.
###
Half an hour later, the second sniper snuck back.
She re-locked the fatal gate. Wired a grenade to it. Dug a new hide. Ignored the scraps of her partner in the first hide.
Scrounged. Checked pulses when the condition of the corpse lent false hope.
She had no radio. The others were missing or wrecked. So she would hold the point, as was her oath.
"I shall carry on the mission even if I am the sole survivor."
I put a very high priority on disabling every bus I possibly could. I used mortars, covert raids, long range fires. We blew up public and private fueling stations. We destroyed repair shops and always destroyed any parts we could not steal. Any buses we laid hands on were driven well north and given new paint jobs before release to relief agencies, or carefully destroyed at once - usually with thermite, so not even axles or wheels could be salvaged.
I didn't carry what color the bus was originally painted or what accessories it might be equipped with.
This is one of the reasons why.
###
Bone-standard California vehicle control point. Wired in shoulders. One side of the highway blocked with destroyed vehicles. A upside down enemy scout vehicle, crosses painted over with circle and slash as a visual aid to back up the threatening signs. A few farmer's gates chained together with sniper overwatch. Narrow foot passages for the refugees to percolate through, spreading them out for easier screening at the next control point a mile further on.
The sniper on overwatch saw the convoy as the lead vehicle stopped.
His orders - "Kill anyone who tries to open the gate."
###
The sniper keyed his microphone.
"Enemy convoy approaching the control gate."
"Fire."
"Unable."
A beat.
"Explain."
"The gate is being opened by children. Lead vehicle is a school bus full of children."
###
The kids had trouble with the bolt cutters but they managed.
One of them even brandished an AK. He could barely lift it, but it was the thought that counted.
Their sergeant was careful to stay out of sight. The only way the sniper could be certain of his existence was that the kids, unlike troops, often paused - then hastily performed exactly one task - then paused again.
###
"Salute."
This was not a direction for the sniper to show military courtesy.
"Five enemy vehicles, a school bus full of children, an armored car, two technicals and two stakebed trucks. They're through the gate coming up the road, they'll be there in three minutes. I think the armored car has a light cannon. The other three have machine guns."
"Gate's defeated?"
"Affirm."
"You just killed us all. Escape and evade at your own discretion. Out."
The -click- as the corporal changed radio frequencies was very loud in his ears.
###
There were four California soldiers, seven armed Gs, twenty unarmed Gs helping to run the point, and about a hundred refugees at the refugee control point.
First things first. The corporal called California Control. Briefly described the new tactic, called for help that would not be coming, let it be known that the line was breached and that he could not secure it.
Then he told his soldiers to get the refugees off the road and running into the fields. They were the survivors of more than one massacre if they had gotten this far, so they did at once.
One Californian, woken suddenly from sleep, sprinted after them with a long fabric bag over her shoulder. Looking like a guitarist left behind by the band, or a hotel valet really frantic for a tip.
Hopefully the enemy convoy would deploy and attempt to pursue them. But he doubted it.
Instead they could run and gun up into undefended areas, for as long as their ammunition held out and trigger fingers were fatally slowed by ...
"Priority of fires. Kill that fucking school bus and the short soldiers at any cost."
"The kids?"
"THE SHORT SOLDIERS."
###
Unfortunately, the signs threatening land mines were a weak lie. Too much territory to control, not enough ordinance.
However, the school bus driver did not hesitate. Even if he did hit a mine, it would protect the armored car just behind.
###
The California soldiers took what cover they could. Waited to see if the vehicles would closely approach.
Instead, the armored car put a shell into each chicken pit using both distance and armor to form an impenetrable shield from the California small arms fire.
Seeing his doom approach with each exploding foxhole, the corporal suddenly stood and fired repeated bursts at the front of the school bus.
He just had time to hear a sudden chorus of cries and wailing before the machine guns of the technicals tore him to pieces.
###
The sniper saw, of course. It was his fault.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Even with the corporal's death as a graphic object lesson.
So he took a bead on one of the technicals and dropped the machine gunner.
Like a well oiled machine, which it was, the turret of the armored car turned and scanned the field in which the sniper lurked.
The barrel quivered like the nose of a hunting dog.
Turned to point directly on.
The sniper knew it was death to run.
He might survive the shot if he just held still.
He didn't.
###
A few minutes of short machine gun bursts later, nothing nearby lived.
A quick check for enemy documents and equipment. A decision not to light the tents, there was still the chance of surprise.
"Enemy activity suppressed," prompted the armored car gunner.
"Roll out."
It took a trainer dismounting and slapping at the wailing children to get them back on the school bus.
Perhaps they could handle the machine pistols of the dead Californians easier than the AKs.
###
Half an hour later, the second sniper snuck back.
She re-locked the fatal gate. Wired a grenade to it. Dug a new hide. Ignored the scraps of her partner in the first hide.
Scrounged. Checked pulses when the condition of the corpse lent false hope.
She had no radio. The others were missing or wrecked. So she would hold the point, as was her oath.
"I shall carry on the mission even if I am the sole survivor."
