“McGilligan, You’re Up!” Evans shouted down from the bell tower, “Building Three!”
McGilligan checked her scarf, grabbed her rifle, turned to Nivelle and Howe, and said, “Stay low, ten meter spacing, follow me, and don’t die.”
She ran out the south door of the building. Shells were falling all around her. And she was in the open. Just like Second Tsiv. Smithie. No. She can’t think of that now. Just on the battle.
She got to Building Three. It was one of the 127th’s buildings. She ran in through the back door, “Reinforcements!”
A Soldier poked his head down, “Sending down the ladder!”
The team then scrambled up the ladder.
After… who knows long of fighting, someone shouted over, “Armored Vehicle Broke Through Artillery Screen!”
McGilligan turned to the Sergeant, “I’ll get rid of it. Just give me a bucket of grenades and covering fire.”
“Alright… What’s your name?”
McGilligan smiled, nodded, pulled out the cloth bucket tucked in her belt, and went from soldier to soldier collecting grenades. Once she got a nice bucket full, she dropped her whole kit. She grabbed her shovel and the bucket and jumped out a back window to the ground floor and waited for the covering fire to start.
Once the fire started, McGilligan ran out. Only 30 meters to the vehicle. That’s like a 5 second sprint. The machine guns on the vehicle were attached to the sides, so if she ran to the center, the guns shouldn’t be able to hit her. With the bucket in her left hand, her shovel held in her right like a sword, she charged towards the vehicle, screaming, “FOR ETHSLIN!”
The bullets danced around her. Shrapnel was whizzing past her head. With a leap, she landed on the front of the vehicle. She took her shovel and pried open the hatch. A Vledscan cavalryman climbed out and clubbed her with the butt of his pistol. As she fell backwards, she dropped the bucket of grenades and hugged the cavalryman. The two tumbled off the armored vehicle. When they hit the ground, the impact forced the cavalryman to release the pistol. She looked at his face. Even through the rage, she could tell he was a handsome man. He was strong, muscular. In the midst of her fantasy, she kneed the cavalryman in the groin. While he winced, she opened her mouth, chomped down on the cavalryman’s nose, that beautiful nose, and ripped it off. The rage turned to horror. The cavalryman was paralyzed with fear, so she let go with her left hand, reached for her pocket knife, and drove it through the back of the cavalryman’s neck.
She dumped the lifeless body off of her and quickly collected the grenades. Hopefully no one else would come out of the vehicle. She clambered back up, pulled the pin on one, dropped the bucket in and ran.
When she got the the building, she ducked in and climbed the ladder dropped down for her. The Sergeant smiled at her, “Good Fucking Job kid.”
She nodded, moved to speak, realized she still had the nose in her mouth, and spat it on the floor. “Thanks Sergeant.”