The Great Patriotic War

Note: This story is about an end of the industrial age Facist Scandanavia, and is seen through the eyes of a soldier in the 14th infantry army.

The year is 1670. After a long and bloody war, The Scandanavaians and The Mayans drive the Spanish off the Mayan Homeland. With promises of eternal friendship, the two countrys leve each other to their own affairs. Ten years later, at the bidding of the Sumerians, The Mayans launch an assault on their allies, and invade Scandanvaian controlled Egypt and and Carthage. In Egypt the war becomes a stalemate, while in the freezing forests of Carthage, the Mayans advance relentlessly towards resource rich cities. Ragnar, Facist leader of Scandanavia, knowing that their war effort could be undermined if Carthage falls, sends the elite 14th infantry army to hold the enemy at Carthage. He orders them to use bullets, clubs, even bricks, to beat back th enemy invader. In Carthage, their could be no retreat.

I shifted, bringing my bolt-action rifle to bear. The men behind me had heard it too. Tank treads. We knew our comfortable stay in the city of Carthage was about to end. We rushed to the trench lines, some of us pulling out small axes' in reverance to our berserker ancesters. Mayan tanks rumbled out of a small forest, fast approaching the woods that we had fortified. Some of our bombers flew over our heads and dropped bombs, destroying some of the myan tanks, but behind them came infantry and cavalry, hundreds of them. bullet fire erupted across the line. cavalry charged us and were mowed down en masse, their horses unused to the snow. I aimed my rifle slowly but easily. I had my target picked out. He was a cavalry man who appeared to be trying to rally the horsemen, tanks and infantry. I pulled the trigger, my rifle barked, and his head snapped back. I methodically worked the bolt-action mechanism and picked another target. He too died. I went through the process three more times before i reloaded the rifle. I felt no sympathy for these traitors. Behind us, new Scandanavian tanks rolled onto the field, firing first at the tanks, then at massed groups of horsemen and infantry. The men of the 14th cheered and fired, not caring if this was but a small force, not caring that a force almost three times our size was fast approaching. All that mattered then was that we had stopped the enemy first, and we knew we would do it again.

I know thats kind of strange, and i'll continue to add more if it gets decent review.

kooooooooool

At the moment this is just kind of a test. I'll add more later. And the name, well, its named after what the Soviets called WWII. I just kind of liked it. thanks secretninja

yeah yeah keep going i'll follow

Keep going. It is very good. I love the first person view.

Me too. I like cool stories. Are you going to have pictures/screenshots?

Pics n shots are a must! I demand those for such a cool story

I'll be following

cmon post again soon its good

Eventually the men of the 14th infantry army were driven into the city of Carthage, closely followed by the traitorus Myans. The armies split into small groups, each fighting their own private war for survival. Knowing this cannot last, that such a battle would destroy the 14th, Ragnar orders 2,000 men of the 14th to rally at the outskirts of the industrial works in Carthage. The most vicious battle in the fight for Carthage is about to begin.

I checked the clip to my stolen myan smg, not out of need, but out of habit. I was anxious. For one year i had hunted myans in this city, but in the end I knew what i was doing would do very little. But this, this was different. I looked around me. hiding behind rubble on both sides of the street were 2,000 of my comrades.
"Our goal today comrades is not victory. Is it vengeance! For the people! For Ragnar! And for Scandanavia! Attack!" Our commanding officer yelled. We let out a blood curdling scream, and charged. Our support tanks followed, firing down the street. I ran faster than i had ever run in my entire life. We came upon a pile of bricks, and from behind it the Myans fired on us. The first several men in our front ranks fell, but our blood was boiling, our rage mounted. I ran up the brick pile, and fired my smg, the rounds tearing into the myan traitor. I didn't stop. Still yelling we charged through the blood soaked snow, towards some of the factorys. Myan rifle fire increased, and some of us took cover, but only some. My self and twelve others kicked open the door to a small building, and hurled grenades inside. screams followed the explosion. I ran in and shot the wounded, having no care for them or their lives.
Our tanks rumbled over the brick pile and into the main area of fighting. The lead tank fired into a large building, blowing a hole in the wall, and scandanvian troops charged into the breach with smgs, rifles with bayonets, and even berserker battle axes. MG fire increased further down the street, raking the tanks, but it did nothing. The turrets swivled and fired, killing the machine gunners.
I ran out of the building, throwing my empty smg magazine onto the frozen ground. I loaded quickly, and moved into a a large crater hole. The myans began to put up a stiff resistance, but our momentum was to great. I crawled up the side of the crater, and found a firing position. aiming carefully, i fired a burst at a myan sniper in a building 40 yards away. His body jerked spasmodically, and he fell back, out of sight. I scrambled out of the crater, smg blazing. artillery began to fall, but still we went on. I came to another crater, and prepared to jump in to last out the barrage. I froze. A boy who couldn't have been older than fourteen sat in the hole. He was wearing a myan uniform. He looked up, stubborn defiance in his eyes. He began to reach for his rifle. I pointed my smg and fired a full clip into him. i moved into the crater, several other men following me. One of them spat on the body in the hole. "Blasted traitor!" He yelled, his voice thick with scandanavian accent. He pulled out a small fighting axe and hacked the body before pulling it out of trench and throwing it towards th tretreating Myans. I watched, not feeling anything. Not rage, pity, nothing. I was completely callous. Turning, I crawled up the side of the crater and looked down the street. Myan infantry were giving ground in the street, but held out stubbornly in the buildings. I started to sink back into the hole when i heard something. A thrumming kind of sound. All the men in the crater looked up, hearing the sound as well as I did. In the air flew Myan bombers. We watched, our faces showing our outrage. We knew what was about to happen. The planes dropped their payload onto the front wave troops, killing almost all of them. But, our more immediate concern was only beginning to become obivous. We could here Myan tank treads. we still had 1,700 men, and almost twenty tanks, but we knew what that sound meant. They were coming back. Several Myan tanks rumbled across the corner, turrets flashing as if in outrage to out attack. Our tanks answered in what became a rain of metal. The attack had been stalled, but only temporarly. Myan infantry moved in behind the tanks, hoping to take back lost ground. We crushed their hopes when their last tank was destoyed. "Give them some steel!" I yelled, and again we charged, weapons blazing. Our two forces hit like a wave. I emptied my clip and pulled out my axe, chopping into the first Myan who tried to stop me. I pulled the weapon out, blood spraying from a wound which was already freezing over. I ran on, and swung my axe at the next Myan, who parried with his rifle. I grabbed the rifle with my left hand, and hacked into the myan's stomach. I pulled it out, and we both fell to the ground, him dying, and myself chopping. Nothing else mattered except hitting the body, and I cut into it again and again. I felt some one start shaking me. "Hey buddy! He's dead! They're gone." I looked around. The myans were indeed gone, but not in permanent retreat The ground was covered with bodies, mostly myans, but with many scandanavians. I gave a hollow laugh at the poitnless of it all. Every day would be like this i knew, until they were out of the industrial section, out of the city, out of the continent. "Hey buddy, you ok?" The man asked. "Yea. I'm ok." I answered. He slapped my back. "We got em on the run now. Bet you we'll be ome by christmas. Oh by the way, the names Wallace." He grinned, and it took me a second to realize he wanted mine. "Leif." I answered. He nodded, and looked around. "Mark my words Leif, home by Christmas." I grinned, and walked towards the fighting, putting my hatchet into my belt, and picking up another smg. Wallace follwed, talking like we were old friends. It was strange to think that only a few hundred yards north their was a battle going on. Naturally, thats where we went.

On this one i tried to show a more human side to the narrator. Thats why Wallace is in it. Just explaining. Oh and about screen shots, well... my idiot little brother deleated my scandanavian file. My apoligies to those who were looking forward to one.

Oh well it's still a good read though

Is this influenced in any way by Call of Duty or Medal of Honor? Just wondering, great read, can't wait for more.

Whats this things ratings so far? Just curious.

I just took the most realistic looking parts from war games/ movies i've watched to get some realism (Naturally i haven't yet fought in a city for a year) Ok, next part.
1671- The Fight in Egypt has ended. Knowing that it is now important to drive the Mayans off Carthage, Ragnar orders almost all the units that fought in Egypt to the Carthaginian front. He and his military planners come up with a plan to land the Egyptian troops a mile away from the city of Carthage, then have them move in to link up with the 14th infantry army, and the 2nd armored corps, the two major forces fighting in the colony. However, for this plan to work, the weakend 14th infantry army must destroy the Mayan troops trapped in Carthage, the ones Smoke Jaguar had forbidden to retreat. Quietly, troops are shifted from the industrial section to Vidofnir, the hill that housed the Facist governers. The Mayans have set up a series of bunkers and trenchs on the hill. The city can not be retaken unless the Mayans are driven off the hill once and for all.
We had moved into the buildings surrounding the hill with little resistance. I guess the Mayans were holding the hill only, deeming the surrounding area useless. Fow weeks we rallied at those buildings, watching that hill. Our numbers grew to almost 5,000. Thus, it was no suprise when we were orderd to attack the hill at dawn. Tanks moved into position, and those of us who had radios got firing quordnates. A general sense of grim happiness filled the camp. Our time had come.
I crouched, attempting to stay out of view. I, like Wallace and thousands of my comrades, where waiting for the order to charge out of the buildings. "Soldiers of The Glorious Scandanavian Army! It is now either victory, or death! Those who reatreat will be shot. Once you charge, that hill will have only one slope. There will be no mercy for cowards and traitors!" Our CO looked around, making one final look to see if everything was ready. "Remember this!" He yelled. "We fight today for the glory of our party, our Nation, our great country! Death to the Mayan Invaders!" "Death to the Mayan invaders!" We all roared in response. He blew the whistle.
Our charge was swift. Yelling, like all of my comrades, I charged, rifle raised and bayonet attached. Our tanks moved in behind us, firing to give us some type of cover. Tankborne infantry fired their weapons as well, which included smgs and anti armor rockets. Mayan artillery and MG fire fell into us, and we fell by the score. But still we moved on. I never paused to fire the rifle, knowing if I did i would die. Soon, i made the trench line.
I lept in, firing the rifle right into the face of a myan soldier. A scandanavian bearing an LMG stood at the top of the trench and hosed the section, killing myans as if he were cutting down wheat. I worked the bolt-action mechanism and fired up towards the second row of bunkers. The LMG gunner set up beside me, and fired towards the second trench line. Again Mayan artillery fire found us, and their snipers began to take their toll. Suddenly, I was on the ground. Things were blurry, and I could hardly hear. Slowly I looked around. The LMG gunner's torn body lay next to me. A Mayan aritllery shell landed right in front of him. I got up, and the effect wore off. I raised the rifle and fired wildly, simply shoving clips into it when ever it was empty.
The tanks had caught up, and so again we rose out of the trench. The Mayans raked their MG fire across our lines constantly, and many of us were cut down as we resumed our charge. The Mayans must have had good artillery men- they kept the srtillery with us and moving at the exact same rate. I ran, rifle in front, bayonet pointing towards our enemy. Within hellish minutes, we made the second trench line. We threw grenades this time- we couldn't afford another trench fight- and ran in, shooting the surviving defenders. Only one trench line was left. The one surrounding the MG bunker, the one that had claimed hundreds of men on just my side of the slope.
The tank borne infantry had dismounted and were with us now. One cockily tapped my arm and yelled, "Hey, watch this!" He raised an anti tank weapon with a huge explosive rocket fixed on the front. He squezzed the handle, and watched with a grin as the rocket blew into the bunker, blowing a huge hole in the wall. We charged for the breach, and enemy small arms fire increased, tearing into our ranks. Yet still we moved, and made the small final trench line surrounding the bunker. I jumped into the trench, using the weight of my fall to drive the bayonet into a mayan infantryman. I did not halt. I simply withdrew the bayonet and scrambled out of the trench towards the bunker. My comrades did the same. It was a small bunker, only capable of holding ten men at most. But the Mayans, stubborn to the end had set up an MG in front of the hole. Almost fifty of us were cut down before the gunner was shot. After that it was a slaughter. We carved the bodys, hacked them, shot them anything we could. Then it was over. Suddenly, simply, over. I looked around, and walked out of the bunker, moving around, to survey the battlefield. On all sides The bodies of my comrades covered the ground. Later i would learn 3,000 scandanavians died in the battle. I turned, taking in every detail. I looked back at the bunker to see a scandanavian flag flying over the hill. A single plane flew over head, and we started cheering, waving our wool caps at the plane. The battle for the city of Carthage was closing down.
Epilouge: A week later, the Egyptian veterns marched into the city. The 14th infantry army was awarded the Order of the Red Sword, the highest honor an army in Scandanavia could recieve. They were reinforced, resupllied, and reprepared. Almost 25,000 out of 65,000 men had died in the battle for the ciy of Carthage. The men of the 14th were loaded onto trucks, and were immediatly sent off to the front again. This time, to a place called Sidi Bou Zid.

Is there More?

Yea. I'll work on the rest later. It gonna continue all the way up to the end of the war.

502nd PIR said:

It gonna continue all the way up to the end of the war.

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Yeaaayy~

Flushed with the success of the battle for Carthage, Scandanavian troops pursue the Mayans across the tundra. The Scandanavian 26th infantry division captures and holds the small village of Sidi Bou zid, called 'the key to carthage'. The town was located in front of the only pass in the Carthaginian alps, making it as vital now as it was in the Stone Age. However, Mayan tanks attacked and took the pass. Infuriated, Ragnar sends the 2nd armored corps, the 14th infantry army and the 375th Egyptian artillery, his only reserve forces, to recapture the pass and Sidi Bou Zid.
I had never ridden on a tank before. At Carthage, tanks had drawn alot of attention, so we tried to keep away from them. Sitting on the turret, Wallace was telling some replacements about how the legendary 14th had held against a vicious enemy at Carthage. Like always, he greatly exaggerated, and the replacements believed it. I gave a quiet laugh and leand back, resting the brand new scandanavian A-1 semi-automatic rifle across my lap. "Hey wallace, why are going here again?" one of the men asked. "I told you. The 26th got their asses handed to them by Smoke Jaguar and his dammned tanks. for some reason they pulled out afterwords. The boss wants us to take the pass back, this time for keeps." He looked around. We had just entered the pass, and already we were running into the 26th. Thankfully, they hadn't been routed, but had simply reached the entrance of the pass and entrenched. The 26th infantry division guys looked at us like we were some kind of gods. It made me sick because i knew they were glad we going to take their job.
The 2nd armored corps rolled past the defenses, moving deeper into the pass. Naturally, we didn't like the enviorment. The enemy could look right down our throats. The snow capped hills were massive and foreboding.
A massive explosion sounded from the front. I, like everyone else, jumped off the tanks, moving for an irrigation ditch at the side of the road. "Anybody see where that was?" Someone called form further down the line. For several minutes, it was quiet. As I looked to the side, the throat of the man next to me exploded. A sniper had shot him. Rifle fire started furiously. "Move forward!" An officer yelled. We didn't budge. "Move forward or you will be shot!" He yelled again. We charged for the front. The pass opened up greatly, and we were partially shocked to see the Mayans charging us right in the open. Partially. I raised my rifle and fired several times, bringing down for than one Mayan. One tank moved forward, and was almost immedialty destroyed. "They got anti-tank guns!" More than one man yelled, and in truth, I was amazed. AT guns took a long time to set up. We scythed Mayans down with rifle fire, and began to advance. I took adavantage of the improved rate of fire and fired a stream of lead towards the enemy. Then we charged. Mayan infantry fired on us and fixed bayonets, copying our move. Our lines smashed into each other, men firing into each other's faces.
The Mayan in front of me thrust, and I could only just parry his stab. I closed the distance and smashed my rifle butt into his face, splaying his nose across his cheek. I smashed it into his face again, and a third time. As he fell to the ground I fired a round into his head. The area around me was somewhat clear of enemies, so I took aim and fired again and again. They're line began to bend, then it shattered. We broke through them, and made for the AT guns. Myself, Wallace, and several others made it to the guns and hurled grenades. The gunners were killed, and we swarmed over the guns. Even better, the Egyptian artillery began to rain steel of the enemy with unbelievable accuracy. Our tanks came out of the pass as the guns were taken and began to fire their turrets on the Mayans. They were routed. We pursued them for a little bit, then turned around, our strides filled with cockiness. And with a right to be. Later we would find out this was one of the best divisions the Mayans had in Carthage, and we had gutted them. If only we had known what Sidi bou Zid would be like.

This is Call of Duty 2: Big Red One no doubt

This latest story is the Kasserine Pass mission. And the one before this with "Death to the Mayan invader" was from the other version of Call of Duty 2 which was "Death to the German invader"...just for people who didn't know

It's not an exact copy, he was just influenced. I find his story a lot better the the Video games. And every country who is being invaded will ussually say "Death to the _______ invader!"

Starkow said:

And every country who is being invaded will ussually say "Death to the _______ invader!"

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Usually? Don't any patriotic citizen would?