It had been two days since Sheridan had gone back into the line. His new platoon of re-tasked artillerymen had been put through street fighting drills by Staff Sergeant Cole day and night until they understood what was expected of them. Sheridan would have preferred infantrymen, but they were in short supply. Best estimates put the division at about fifty percent strength with most of the casualties coming from the three infantry regiments who had so far withstood the worst of the fighting. As Sheridan studied the tactical situation on a map in the company command post, he saw that the Kurgan forces had almost taken half of the city. All along the river, there were pockets of resistance that were holding out against the onslaught. It was to one of these locations that Sheridan and his understrength platoon were going to move to in a few hours. They were going to relieve a platoon that was guarding one side of the only bridge still standing over the fifty-meter wide river that cut through the middle of the capital. The remainder of the company was going to guard the other side. A couple of squads of combat engineers were coming with him to prepare the bridge for demolition.
“Mister Sheridan, are your people ready to go into battle?” Captain Rolleston asked.
Sheridan turned and said, “They’re as ready as we could make them in forty-eight hours, sir.”
“How are you organized?”
“I have two large squads, a weapons detachment, and a small headquarters. Without experienced NCOs, I was reluctant to break the platoon down any further.”
“That’ll do. How are you set for ammo?”
“Sergeant Cole has managed to obtain a ton for us. Ammo isn’t the problem, medical support is. The only medic I have is one of my own people. Sir, are there none to spare from the division?”
Rolleston shook his head. “Unfortunately, we’re all in the same boat. The medical battalion has been swamped with casualties. There won’t be any help coming our way for a long time. You’ll have to make do with what you have.”
Sheridan did not like the answer, but he understood that they were truly on their own. He made his way back to his platoon. Cole was just finishing his final inspection of the new Marines before they made their way to the bridge.
“What’s the word from the CO?” Cole asked.
“The word is we’re on our own. What we’ve got is all we’re going to get.”
Cole shrugged. “Could be worse, they could have sent us some of the divisional staff officers as replacements.”
Sheridan chuckled. “Okay, I’m going to take the NCOs and the heavy weapons team with me for the handover. I’ll see you and the rest of the platoon at the bridge in an hour.”
“Don’t get lost on your way there, sir,” teased Cole.
Almost to the minute, Cole showed up. The platoon quickly occupied two large houses on either side of a road leading to the bridge. He was pleased to see that the soldiers that had been there before them had done a good job of preparing the buildings for defense. Fields of fire had been cleared and all of the rooms had been fortified. It would not stop a Kurgan tank’s fire, but against small arms, the houses were almost impregnable.
The crump of artillery shells landing a few blocks away alerted Sheridan that the enemy advance had begun again. His job was to hold his side of the bridge until ordered to withdraw. Behind them in the dark, the combat engineers busily prepared the bridge to blow.
Cole walked into the small house Sheridan had chosen for his command post and reported that everything was set. Garcia, Roberts, and a young artilleryman were responsible for working the only heavy weapon they could find, an automatic grenade launcher that was sited to cover the road.
“Sir, I don’t get why the Kurgs are smashing the city to pieces,” said Cole. “I thought you said that they wanted to take it intact so they can use the city’s infrastructure.”
“I know, it’s very odd. Perhaps they didn’t expect this much resistance and have changed their mission objectives,” replied Sheridan.
Roberts said, “I heard from a guy who works up at division that the Kurgs are using the planet as a testing ground to see if their Chosen warriors are loyal to the empire.”
“You should know better than to listen to rumors. Especially those coming from the div staff,” retorted Cole.
The sound of gunfire reverberating down the streets put an end to the conversation. Sheridan moved to a firing port, brought up his night vision binoculars and looked toward the sound of the fighting. He could not see any movement. The street was deserted, yet barely two blocks away, Marines and Chosen soldiers were once more locked in a battle to the death. House by house and street by street, the two sides fought over the destroyed remains of the capital.
“Unless something drastic happens, I don’t think we’re going to get hit tonight,” said Sheridan. He turned his head and looked over at Cole. “Sergeant, let’s have the platoon go to fifty percent manning for the night.”
“Sounds like a plan, sir,” replied Cole. He looked at Roberts. “Pass the word.” With Tammy running by his side, Roberts dashed over to the nearest squad.
Now all they had to do was sit and wait, and that was almost as bad as being in combat as far as Sheridan was concerned. The more they sat about, the more time they had to think about their predicament and theirs was bleak.
22