“GET THE HELL OUT OF THE STREETS! GO!” Stubs commanded the rest of his men. “Get away from the windows! Mark!” Red instructed. The explosion then rang all around us, rattling windows and kicking dust. A few rounds landed really close to the building we were in—thankfully, none of those landed on top of us. The shelling lasted for only less than a couple minutes, but it surely scared the hell out of us. when it fell silent, we poked our heads out and looked out the windows. Most of the platoon seemed to be okay, and we got out of to the streets again. Stubs then told us to move across the intersection and take the now empty machine gun nest and settle there. “We’ll stay here for the moment,” he said. “Dukeman, take three men and cover our south. Hal, take four and face east. They might be coming down on us really soon,” The Platoon then took a little break, drinking water and such. A few of them even lit cigarettes, thinking this break would be long. The rest of them checked for am
We then occupied the building, which turned out to be a bakery, with Bloomberg and Vic clearing the other rooms. I instructed Q to stay away from the windows and Mason to guard the entrance to the rear. I then took a good look of the dead enemies laying around. They have similar weapons as we do, again, but they are now in uniform. It’s the ANB again. “Red,” I called out, “These are Broenis again,” “No, shit,” she exclaimed. “Where the hell are the Marines?” Yeah. Where the hell are the Marines? We’re sitting ducks here waiting for them to break through and relieve us. it’s five past two, and the Marines are supposed to be here. Bloomberg and Vic were already done clearing the room and joined us downstairs. From our position, we could see the rest of the platoon lining up along the rubble I mentioned. “Mason, get on the radio and—where the hell is your radio?!” Red asked. “Lieutenant Stubs told me to leave it at the base, Sergeant,” Mason replied, to Red's disbelief. “Bloomberg!
I took Red to the casualty collection point near the temporary aid station. Blood was still dripping down her face. Q followed close behind, with Mason and Vic walking alongside her. That 100-meter trip was the longest walk I had ever walked my entire life. The fountain we passed by became crowded with wounded men as temporary aid station was placed there. Bloomberg was talking to Stubs. Major Patterson was seen organizing the men, telling people where to go and stuff. I put Red down near the building on the east side of that fountain. A medic then approached us, asking whether or not he could’ve helped. After putting her down, I reached into one of her pockets to retrieve our diamonds, figuring I would sell them later to make it easier to distribute among us. I had also taken Red’s leather sling off her gun before we pulled back. I figured I’d take it home. Near the fountain, Q sat and stared blankly into the ground while Mason was beside her, caressing her. Vic offered them cigare
2IC: Second in Command, i.e., assistant leader. ACOG: Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight, a type of telescopic sighting equipment used on rifles and machine guns. AK: Automatic Kalashnikov. Introduced in 1947, its design evolved into a wide variety of firearms. Bandolier: ammunition pouches sewn into belts or sling. Boobied: slang for booby-trapped Booby Trap: traps set up to maim or kill enemy soldiers. The term came from how it fools the enemy thinking it was safe, hence the term booby (=fool). C2: Command and Control center Cal.: slang/short for Caliber Company: a unit of soldiers consisting of roughly three to four platoons plus their commander Compound: a military encampment Detcord: A type of explosive charge, shaped like a cord (hence the name, detonating cord) DMR: Designated Marksman’s Rifle Friendly Fire: incidents where soldiers opened fire on their own comrades, whether or not the shots hit FN: Fabrique Nationale, Belgian arms manufacturer GPMG: General Purpose
Thank you for reading Irregulaire! This was one of my many war story ideas, however only a few turned into a meaningful fruition, including this one. I usually draw instead of write, and this is my first ever completed work. However, a few sketches were made, but since this platform doesn't have that feature yet, I have not been able to include any of the pictures I have made outside the covers. Like a lot of stories, it began with a what if. It did take inspiration behind an amalgamation of various historical wars involving separatist groups and invading forces, such as the Vietnam War, Korean War, Russo-Georgian War of 2008, etc. with one question: "What if a ragtag band of college friends was to participate in a war?" The result was quite fun, with worldbuilding (that had not yet been completed as of this publishing date) that takes ages to write and carefully spun-off historical events. I get to experiment with a lot of ideas for the storyline, and it turned out pretty good. An
It was July 31st, 2015—my birthday. Election results are coming out, and people are dissatisfied with these results. Incumbent government led by President James Widows won against Dennis Pieterzoon’s opposition by a tiny margin. Less than 3%, even. Still, Jacktown became very unstable in just a week. The whole country then turned unstable in just days. This situation was then taken as an opportunity by our neighboring country, Broenland, to retake what they had. They launched an invasion from the North with two prongs meant to encircle the capital city of Jacktown, a mere month since the election ended. This country, Griesia, was once part of Broenland before we decided to split up. Back in the 1980’s, we had a civil war which then had an impact on how we came to be. It was short, but effective. We stated that we wanted independence and would fight for it. Then we did it. With UN assistance, we established independence from Broenland in 1986. Tension never ceased, however. We still h
“The roster goes as follows. Anna will lead Hans, Ryan, and Mark in a fire team. I will have Dan, Jimmy, and Kris in mine. Buck will lead the Machine Gun team. Anna’s team would be Red, mine would be Blue, and Buck’s would be Grey. Red Team’s role will be that of providing bases of fire. Blue Team will be the assault team, charging forward or flanking the enemy, but this can change in a defensive scenario. Grey team would be additional support for either softening up the targets or as a bug-out cover,” I explained. “Who wants to be the squad leader?” I then asked, giving others a chance to channel their opinion. “I think you would do,” said Mark. Franz and Dan agreed. “Anna would fit more,” Karl replied. “She’s in the first team, too. She can direct everyone while providing base of fire,” he said. Jimmy and Hans backed that up. “How about Buck?” said Anna. “No, no, no... I’m already in charge of this big ass gun. It’s either you or Mick,” denied Buck. “Karl’s got a point,” I join
The Colonel’s house was surrounded by other houses except on the Southeast flank. There’s only a wall out there, separating land owned by farmers and the compound. To the front of the house, that is the East, there’s a house with a caved-in roof. Looks like a close call on them. Mortars, I think. Attacks on military bases have increased in frequency, making daily patrols necessary, but on a housing complex? I mean come on. There were a couple of waypoints up to the North, with one going westwards, that narrows down to one heading South. These waypoints are closely guarded, with entrance to the Compound from the Northwest guarded with Marine personnel, as well as the exit, to the far West. There were low fences around the house, made out of cement, the kind you see on old rural house. The house itself would be the designated inner compound, along the fence, with the main objectives being there, namely the Colonel and his family. Before we came in, these parts were being guarded by a pl