Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)This is the formal begining of the RP already listed, the posting order will be me, CardCaptorSakura, then Jason.
Huddling into my trench more than should be humanly possible, more shells land around the earth near me, throwing up gysers of mud, blood, and bones. The shelling for this day had been going on longer than normal, making everyone on the line nervous, because a long shelling meant that the enemy were going to make an assault as soon as the shells stop. After a further thirty full minutes of bombs, screams, and mud, the shells stopped and a more dangerous sound emerged..............the sound of silence. Only a few seconds lasted of it but already men, and in some places women like me, were cleaning their weapons quickly and rushing up to fireing slits. A gutteral roar blasted across the barren fields and a wall of humans, steel, and lead sprang up from the trenches on the other side, preceded by whistle blasts.
My divisions new machine guns,loved and hated by all,began to fire, spitting out hails of molten lead across the length of the open ground. Soon after the first shots of the machine guns left the muzzles, the troops fired too, sending all of our fear and hate back at the enemy. I unloaded my gun at the charging troops, dropping a dozen in less than a minute, but no where near enough to stop the advance. Dropping back into the trench when they were almost apon us, fixing my bayonet to the end of my rifle. Rushing back up to the top just in time as the first wave of troopers got to our trenches. Stabbing up and then pitching my gun back sent an impaled soldier no older than 19, over my shoulder and into the trench, dead. Firing from the hip, I drop two others, one with a shot to the chest, the other a shot to the head, blowing his gas mask to pieces. A roar from my left brought my gun around, bayonet first, and chopping into the neck of the next soldier. When I tried to pull it out however, it was stuck so instead oftrying again, I kicked the man's body into the trench behind me and pulled out my sabre, slicing a man from groin to shoulder when I drew my favored weapon.
The advance lasted only five minutes, but to us, the common footslogers, it had lasted hours. All told, from best estimates, we had lost merely 50 men, and 17 women. The Germans, on the other hand, had suffered far worse than our forces by far. 300 men dead, most from the ensuing melee that followed. This had further strengthened the reputation that this division is the undisputed master of the melee. The division would be at full strength again shortly, as the new recruits we had been promised were on there way to the front lines as the engagement had been being fought.
Huddling into my trench more than should be humanly possible, more shells land around the earth near me, throwing up gysers of mud, blood, and bones. The shelling for this day had been going on longer than normal, making everyone on the line nervous, because a long shelling meant that the enemy were going to make an assault as soon as the shells stop. After a further thirty full minutes of bombs, screams, and mud, the shells stopped and a more dangerous sound emerged..............the sound of silence. Only a few seconds lasted of it but already men, and in some places women like me, were cleaning their weapons quickly and rushing up to fireing slits. A gutteral roar blasted across the barren fields and a wall of humans, steel, and lead sprang up from the trenches on the other side, preceded by whistle blasts.
My divisions new machine guns,loved and hated by all,began to fire, spitting out hails of molten lead across the length of the open ground. Soon after the first shots of the machine guns left the muzzles, the troops fired too, sending all of our fear and hate back at the enemy. I unloaded my gun at the charging troops, dropping a dozen in less than a minute, but no where near enough to stop the advance. Dropping back into the trench when they were almost apon us, fixing my bayonet to the end of my rifle. Rushing back up to the top just in time as the first wave of troopers got to our trenches. Stabbing up and then pitching my gun back sent an impaled soldier no older than 19, over my shoulder and into the trench, dead. Firing from the hip, I drop two others, one with a shot to the chest, the other a shot to the head, blowing his gas mask to pieces. A roar from my left brought my gun around, bayonet first, and chopping into the neck of the next soldier. When I tried to pull it out however, it was stuck so instead oftrying again, I kicked the man's body into the trench behind me and pulled out my sabre, slicing a man from groin to shoulder when I drew my favored weapon.
The advance lasted only five minutes, but to us, the common footslogers, it had lasted hours. All told, from best estimates, we had lost merely 50 men, and 17 women. The Germans, on the other hand, had suffered far worse than our forces by far. 300 men dead, most from the ensuing melee that followed. This had further strengthened the reputation that this division is the undisputed master of the melee. The division would be at full strength again shortly, as the new recruits we had been promised were on there way to the front lines as the engagement had been being fought.
