>>5740135The copse had been reduced to a charnel house. The Vitelians were utterly fearless, but also unimaginably reckless, moving forward no matter the casualties the sustained and seemingly without any regard for their own lives. The ferocity of the assault was such was that the platoon was forced from the treeline and onto the road behind it before realizing that the Vitelians facing them were all dead or dying. A brief silence prevailed over the battlefield though still broken by the rattle of gunfire off in the distance. The way ahead was open bar one more obstacle, a thin line of tanks led by a walking corpse.
The relative silence quickly lost out to the low roar of engines. The center had been able to break through but much of the rest was about to come up behind her to join the little trail of life that marked their only chance at escape. She went from body to body looking for a chemical mask that would fit her face well enough, a worrying piece of shrapnel having lodged itself deep into her own. Klaus Renner's father was a baker. He had made fresh loaves of bread for the company once, before the war. She was certain that Schneider had lied about his age when he joined up. Blood loss was a comparatively merciful way to die in this war. The verdant green of his irises judged her as she lowered his eyelids one last time.
When she removed her old mask to replace it, the scent of burning flesh was both more vile and prevalent than she could ever recall. The steam which seemed to radiate off of many of the corpses of armored Arditi suddenly clicked in her mind. Broiled in their suits of armor, a modern Brass Bull. The earthy scent of petrichor melded with the odor of beef or pork that she knew was her fellow man. She scrambled to secure the new mask over her face but she already knew that this memory would live on in the back of her head for the rest of her days.
Out on the sea, a silhouette breached the foggy horizon sitting shallow upon the waves. Clara thought she could see little men scrambling across the deck to its guns. Certainly she could at least make out the barrels turning towards the shoreline. She imagined them screaming orders just as she was to her own command to finish mounting up and move deeper into the trees. Escape is so close, bought for so many lives. Let it not be in vain.
>Turn>Initiative(5+1(Radio)-1(Chemical Protection)=5)>Spotting>No attacks>Move one tile Northeast>Dig in