Translation
Fanfic: Weitere Storys
Chapter: Battle of the lost
Battle of the lost
Rieder ran down the street with Torke, Sönnich and Bakers next to him. They set up their position at the bridge, and the MG93a was ready for use within 30 seconds. Rieder clamped himself behind a bridge post and unlocked the MP 53 from Heckler & Koch, opposite Torke leaned tightly against his post, a hastily picked up MP5 was his only weapon. In the distance they could already hear gunshots ...
*
"Kruschtschow!", Sorl threw himself into the ditch, Kruschtschow looked at him: "What is the matter what has not already been?" he asked, his calm Ukrainian manner remained even during the war. Sorl pushed himself to the upper edge of the ditch, over there mortars were brought into position, a bullet from the snipers twitched over, but it was still quiet. "We're pretty much in trouble." Meier spat contemptuously, he was sitting next to the MG and straightening his belt, behind him along the trench were men from other Copania whom they did not know.All of them had already unlocked their M16s. Sorl infected himself with a glowing stick: "It's going to be fun." he grinned. He didn't know that this was the case, because he knew the enemy better than the others, he had been one of the frontrunners when they attacked them in their country, he was one of the few survivors who kept the quota below one hundred percent, but they rounded up the staff this defeat had been devastating, now another threatened.
Sorl was lying in the machine-gun pit before he consciously noticed the whistling of the grenades, the grave area in which he had just been rose roaring into the air, Sorl's hearing was not very clear for a moment, but he took it again Whistling noise true, the detonation sounded dull in his ear, the grenade had passed over it, Sorls heard clearly again. The machine-gun rattled off, its sheaves ruthlessly perforated the earth around the enemy baricades and struck these sparks. The characteristic whistling sound again, the left wing of the position is raised, an arm falls to the ground in front of Sorl and Kruschtschow, they recognize Meier's watch.*
The thunder of the enemy grenade impacts could be clearly heard, Rieder thought of Meiers, fire was probably just being lit under the rear of his platoon leader, it was quiet here ... but how much longer?
A company trotted past and quartered itself on the other bank of the river in a small patch of forest, they took up hedgehog positions, this war could not be won, and everyone knew that. A young man ran up, the sergeant. Rieders tipped his helmet with his hand: "Sergeant, everything is quiet here." The man nodded, ran across the bridge and on the other side he climbed a little down the bank, he turned and fell into the grass. The M16 was in his arms and the barrel aimed at the street in front of them. Rieder fell into a deceptive calm.
*
The grenade fire had died down, Sorl crawled to the edge of the funnel he was lying in, and Kruschtschow rode up next to him. Bullet volleys whizzed towards the advancing enemy soldiers and some remained lying in the funnels but the concentrated march could not be stopped.A magazine jumped out of Sorl's rifle, and the new one, the last one, was quickly at hand. "Let's get out of here, this line is lost." he shouted to his comrade, who nodded, in the next instant his brain splashed into the blood mud. Kruschtschow backed through one of the trenches that led to the rear, targeted bursts of fire kept the intrusive enemies at a distance. Soon he came to the river bed, in which reinforcements were already lying, he threw himself into the mud with them.
*
Rieder heard the approaching roar with horror, there was no time to escape, five stinger missiles tore the bridge into its individual parts. Rieder drifted away with the river, the water behind him turned pale pink to wine-red, 'Now you've lost your first battle without firing a shot.
*
Enemies broke into the bed from left and right, Krushchiv did not fire his six new magazines lightly, but the number of enemies seemed to be increasing rather than decreasing. Burning pain ran through his shoulder, then his left knee, something bored into his stomach, he tasted warm blood on his tongue, he fell heavily into the reeds. He saw vaguely how enemy troops jumped over him, butchered other of his people in front of him. At some point he heard the click of a pull release, he felt the cool shadow of the other, he could no longer hear the clinking sound of the case falling to the ground.
Rieder ran down the street with Torke, Sönnich and Bakers next to him. They set up their position at the bridge, and the MG93a was ready for use within 30 seconds. Rieder clamped himself behind a bridge post and unlocked the MP 53 from Heckler & Koch, opposite Torke leaned tightly against his post, a hastily picked up MP5 was his only weapon. In the distance they could already hear gunshots ...
*
"Kruschtschow!", Sorl threw himself into the ditch, Kruschtschow looked at him: "What is the matter what has not already been?" he asked, his calm Ukrainian manner remained even during the war. Sorl pushed himself to the upper edge of the ditch, over there mortars were brought into position, a bullet from the snipers twitched over, but it was still quiet. "We're pretty much in trouble." Meier spat contemptuously, he was sitting next to the MG and straightening his belt, behind him along the trench were men from other Copania whom they did not know.All of them had already unlocked their M16s. Sorl infected himself with a glowing stick: "It's going to be fun." he grinned. He didn't know that this was the case, because he knew the enemy better than the others, he had been one of the frontrunners when they attacked them in their country, he was one of the few survivors who kept the quota below one hundred percent, but they rounded up the staff this defeat had been devastating, now another threatened.
Sorl was lying in the machine-gun pit before he consciously noticed the whistling of the grenades, the grave area in which he had just been rose roaring into the air, Sorl's hearing was not very clear for a moment, but he took it again Whistling noise true, the detonation sounded dull in his ear, the grenade had passed over it, Sorls heard clearly again. The machine-gun rattled off, its sheaves ruthlessly perforated the earth around the enemy baricades and struck these sparks. The characteristic whistling sound again, the left wing of the position is raised, an arm falls to the ground in front of Sorl and Kruschtschow, they recognize Meier's watch.*
The thunder of the enemy grenade impacts could be clearly heard, Rieder thought of Meiers, fire was probably just being lit under the rear of his platoon leader, it was quiet here ... but how much longer?
A company trotted past and quartered itself on the other bank of the river in a small patch of forest, they took up hedgehog positions, this war could not be won, and everyone knew that. A young man ran up, the sergeant. Rieders tipped his helmet with his hand: "Sergeant, everything is quiet here." The man nodded, ran across the bridge and on the other side he climbed a little down the bank, he turned and fell into the grass. The M16 was in his arms and the barrel aimed at the street in front of them. Rieder fell into a deceptive calm.
*
The grenade fire had died down, Sorl crawled to the edge of the funnel he was lying in, and Kruschtschow rode up next to him. Bullet volleys whizzed towards the advancing enemy soldiers and some remained lying in the funnels but the concentrated march could not be stopped.A magazine jumped out of Sorl's rifle, and the new one, the last one, was quickly at hand. "Let's get out of here, this line is lost." he shouted to his comrade, who nodded, in the next instant his brain splashed into the blood mud. Kruschtschow backed through one of the trenches that led to the rear, targeted bursts of fire kept the intrusive enemies at a distance. Soon he came to the river bed, in which reinforcements were already lying, he threw himself into the mud with them.
*
Rieder heard the approaching roar with horror, there was no time to escape, five stinger missiles tore the bridge into its individual parts. Rieder drifted away with the river, the water behind him turned pale pink to wine-red, 'Now you've lost your first battle without firing a shot.
*
Enemies broke into the bed from left and right, Krushchiv did not fire his six new magazines lightly, but the number of enemies seemed to be increasing rather than decreasing. Burning pain ran through his shoulder, then his left knee, something bored into his stomach, he tasted warm blood on his tongue, he fell heavily into the reeds. He saw vaguely how enemy troops jumped over him, butchered other of his people in front of him. At some point he heard the click of a pull release, he felt the cool shadow of the other, he could no longer hear the clinking sound of the case falling to the ground.