You weren't there.

The air was thick with the smell of war

Up in the freezing cold north, your nostrils were filled with [strike]dank memes[/strike] icicles the size of small ants, yet even here, in the freezing valley, the distinct smell of war never quite escaped you.

We were out in the north, leading a small squad against the east camp along the treeline when a sergeant in my squad spotted blackened silhouettes among the trees. I quickly ordered my men to safe cover as I fired a preemptive explosive round into the midst of them. The fight was going well, we were winning, with no casualties. Until a graycollars APC and its escort broke out of the tree line, heading full speed towards us. Thats when I realized their enemy officer must of radioed for reinforcements, and our small routing squad was pinned between at least 3 fireteams and the 25mm high fragmentation cannon of the armored beast.

Still, as I fired my xm25 hopelessly at the APC a carl gustav from one of my squadmates shrieked and pierced the air, and both projectiles hit it in conjunction, one decimating the small fireteam hiding behind the armored beast firing at my squad, sending fragments into the soldiers that sat inside, as another pierced through the turret roof and into the fighting compartment of the APCs crew, laying waste to all inside. The explosion tore a small smoke screen across the fighting, and as the rocketeers frostbitten face turned into what seemed like a smile, in an instant, something that should of been a triumphant victory was torn away from us. The bite of death pierced the rocketeers vest, and he fell away, his discarded launcher clanging onto the thick snow beneath him, his last smile still etched upon his heroic features.

"Keep firing!" I yelled at the machinegun crew as I signaled the last of my men towards the blackened husk of the armored vehicle providing a sparse but sorely needed piece of cover, grabbing a rookies shoulders as he stood in shock looking at the fallen rocketeer and shoving him under the wheels of the smoking wreck. Our machinegun crew fired blindly into the smoke as the enemies came out, to our right, to our left, behind us, north east everywhere, our squad trapped behind the death trap. Firing and reloading as fast as our numbed hands would allow us I wrapped my hands around a dead riflemans torso as I wrenched his G36 out of his hands, dropping my xm25 and unloading the magazine into the shadows in the smoke.

and when the firing stopped, and I saw what was left, what I saw, I’ll say it now, what I saw was my worst fear. No, not the enemy, a platoon of them, stealthy advancing on our positions, alerted by the gunfire. No, not the dead bodies that littered the battlefield, around the destroyed graycollars APC. No, my worst fear was our reinforcements, 20 of them, who had stumbled into what remained of my proud squad. A entire battalion was headed my way, I should have felt relieved, but all hope vanished as I laid eyes upon the people before me.

Officers, fresh from training, standing over my fallen npcs like heroes, as one of them cruelly wrenched a RPG from one of my mens lifeless hands, strutting around looting what they could, ammo, explosives, and the most taboo things of them all, personal belongings.

"lol dis guy has horny magazine lol nice choclate omg love letter wow that will sell alot back at base XD" one of them remarked as he rummaged through the freshly deads battle gear. Another one pocketed playing cards, illegal items that took a month’s worth of fresh rations to get a hold of, while another pocketed the rocketeer’s specialty cigars.

I wanted to shout, scream at them, but I couldn't, not because I was in fear of a court martial, as these rich kids were above me in rank for some god damn reason that command was in charge of, but because of the enemies advancing towards our position. They couldnt see us yet, only the smoke, but soon they would see the huddled figures at the base of the hill from the treeline

"Lol you should go up to the ridge and scout for us" one of them told the shellshocked machinegunner. Our gazes met as we took in the absurdity of the situation.

"Hey, that man is in my squad" I whispered "and besides, hes a machinegunner, he can’t move haphazardly and we NEED to get out of here now!" I raised my voice all so slightly to talking level.

"lol u should go up there and scout for us then also y r u whispering omg tonight we dine like kings XD XD" an player officer said confidently, as he walked up onto the ridge. I winched as a single shot echoed loudly through the air. A sniper.

"OMG WTF ENEMIES XD WE MUST ATTACK!11" An officer said to my survivor, the machinegunner, and pushed him into the open. A single syllable of discourse had barely escaped my mouth as the sniper took the life of my last man. At this, serveral machinegunners, setup at the treeline, started firing, and bullets plattered among what remained of our sparse cover. We had just escaped hell, and were back in it. all of the officers huddled down, afraid to shoot back as those who dared to were quickly finished off by accurate bursts from the enemy.

When the gunfire stopped. The officers looked at each other with several uneasy glances

"we have to retreat and get away" I burst out, and the men laughed. “we have to kill them and take their lootz and goodiez for the money!!!!” another one crowed. A resounding roar for the others told me everything I needed to know. I was going to die here. One of them took the RPG from another one and stood up to fire.

"lol n00b ez gam3" one of them said as he fired a RPG haphazardly towards the enemy without posturing, the backblast knocking him over as the rocket veered off into the sky, probably to hit a friendly firebase some miles away, and another shot echoed across the treeline, and he fell as well. The shooting resumed, and this time I sat, huddled with my empty xm25 strapped around my back, hugging my knees, lost to the world

"omg what we do now we r surrounded"

"omg I dont know"

"how i use radio for paratroopers"

"what does rp do XD"

Is this really how it ends, I thought, as I remembered my fallen men, dedicating the last moments of my life to them as the crackle of bullets flew overhead.

Carlos, the sergeant, always willing to help the rookies in need. My right hand man, and loved his m24 as much as his silenced pistol.

Tom cruise, the rocketeer, everyone always cracked jokes at him because of his name, and he swore he would change it as soon as he got back from this dammed war.

Pete, the machinegunner, a sharp eye who everyone said should of become a sniper

Our medic, Jeane, a quiet man, who loved his rifle, he loved his whiskey more and loved gambling the most, but always looked out for others on the battlefield. The first to go.

Our radioman, Shawn, who had a knack for stealing enemy weapons and ammunition and piecing them back together. His emptied G36 lay beside me, covered in his blood. One time he even hijacked and hotwired an enemy jeep when we were stranded.

3 unnamed rookies, who were always together. No one knew them yet, but they did their part in the fight.

I looked up from the blood stained snow, and as the barrel of a G36 slowly reached out from behind the other side of the APC, the graycollar holding it surely ready to deliver to me a swift death, what could only be described as a miracle happened. To anyone else looking in from the outside, it would seem like lady luck abandoned those still near the APC. Or perhaps she kindly chose to give a quick death to the brain dead men who would soon perish by the same fire and smoke.

The APC cooked off. What remained of the 25mm ammunition, buried in stray casings, discarded magazines, dank memes, the same dents in the armor caused by the explosives thrown at it in the earlier fight gave way to the hail of bullets now being laid upon it, and a bright light filled my vision as I was thrown the ground by the force of 30 grenades detonating in the small compartment, metal shrapnel flying through the air as what was left of the APC dissipated into oblivion.

I can still feel the scars today, on my back, the heat, the sheer agony, knocking the wind out of me and those still left. The officers and I were thrown to the ground, some killed by the blast; some weren’t, lying there in agony and pain. The officers further back, took us for dead and ignored the explosion, screaming profanities and firing full auto the other way, wasting bullets on mounds of snow and tree bark. Instead of covering the men fallen by the APC
My vision was fading in and out, the sound of gunfire din as if the fight was going on miles away. I saw a graycollar slowly get up, the same one that was about to kill me before the blast, bloodied and bleeding. I saw the gray collars bloodied hand, holding an object. I saw him limping towards me, knife in hand. I turned my head slowly to the other side. I didn’t want to see anymore, because I knew what was going to happen. I saw an Officer, lying beside me, squirming and swearing at the sky. I looked up. I didn’t want to see the brain dead Officer in my final moments either. I saw the gray collar standing above me. Stepping over me. At the time, I thought how odd it was that he stepped over me. He raised his knife. My vision gave out. He brought the knife down. My vision gave out for what I thought was the last time. I came back, gasping as the sound of gunfire came back, loud as ever. He was collapsed over me. Knife buried in the officers chest beside me. I kicked him away and with the last of my strength, I got up.

I ran. I left them behind as those who could stood up from the blast screamed "omg wtf happened" and fired blindly with no cover, swiftly cut down by the graycollars emplacements. I grabbed a shield from stabbed man beside me, and turned to run. I didn’t look back.

You weren't there.

I was.

This was written in the voice of an ai soldier even though it was based off a true story by me lol