Well hello! Long time, no speak. Sorry for my absense, I'm a terrible author! In truth I had forgotten about this little beauty until a review came through my email last night. So thanks go to CalaisForever for reminding me and inspiring me to start writing this again. My email goes through to my phone, so I actually got this in the early hours of the morning and I coudln't sleep after reading it so I started writing! Bear with me if things are a bit sticky, it will probably take me a few chapters to get back into the swing of it. I have some new ideas for the ending, well I have so many ideas I'm not sure which to chose and who to kill off! So I may post the ones I don't use seperatley after the story is finished. Not going to promise anything guys, because I usually break them! But I will try to keep updating reguarly. Hope you enjoy it! xxx
CHAPTER 13 – Surrender Your Socks
Jackson watched as Chrissie dozed in his arms, her hair fluttering gently in the breeze. He traced light circles on her cheek, sighing in contentment. Chrissie stirred, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as the sun shone brightly.
"Did I miss anything?" She asked, sitting up and stretching.
"Nah," Jackson replied standing. "You've barley been out ten minutes."
Chrissie looked around at her fellow squad members and her eyes focused on Miller and Horvath as they approached the group.
"We've made a decision." Miller told them. "We're staying in Ramelle. We'll help defend the bridge and then we'll take Ryan home."
"What?" Reiben exclaimed jumping up. "That's bullshit! The orders were to bring the fucker home."
"Reiben." Horvath growled.
"No," Chrissie interrupted standing to join the men, Jackson stood carefully behind her holding her shoulders. "Richard's got a point for once."
"Its not up for discussion."
"Captain, it's practically suicide." Chrissie shrugged Jackson off and walked up close to the Captain to talk in a lower tone. "We haven't got enough ammo left."
"The others will have some."
"Even if they do," Chrissie looked around, dropping her voice lower. "We don't have nearly enough men to fight them. This is the most important bridge to them at the moment, they're not going to send any ordinary squad. They'll have weapons, lots of them. You know this."
Miller scratched his head looking at the soliders in front of him. He grasped Chrissie's arm and pulled her further from the group.
"Chrissie, these are the orders. I thought I could trust you to follow them, no questions asked."
"No questions asked? Of course I'm going to ask questions when my life is in danger."
"You're a soldier. You are constantly in danger. Look, what am I supposed to do Chrissie?" Miller sighed. "Shall we just leave now, tell them Ryan stayed with his squad and we left them to die? Is that what we tell them? Are we just going to leave them die?"
Chrissie bit her lip, remaining silent. It was suicide, but the Captain was right. They couldn't leave them hear to die.
"OK." Chrissie agreed. "What's the plan?"
Sharp eyes swept over the weapons laid on the table.
"This is everything. Got the two 30-calibre machine guns, seventeen grenades, eleven Hawkins mines. We've got the two bazookas, but they've only got eight rounds left, and assorted small arms."
"Its not enough." Chrissie whispered.
Horvath patted her gently. "It'll have to be."
"Might as well be spit wads if they roll up in tanks." Chrissie was still doubtful of Millers plan.
"Which they're sure to do." Horvath replied. "What you thinking, sir?"
Miller stared at the weapons, thoughts flying around his head. "Well..." He began walking out into the open. "I'm thinking they're going to try and whip around the flanks. Unless we can draw them up this main road here in between these buildings, where all the rubble makes a bit of a bottleneck."
"Disable him?" Ryan asked.
"If we can. Make that tank a 60-ton roadblock. We do that, we'll have a fighting chance."
"Yes, sir." The corporal agreed. "Don't let them split up, don't let them mass anywhere."
"Hit them hard as we can. One on one. Then fall back to the bridge."
"Machine gun on the move down here. Number two up high somewhere to piss down on their heads." Horvath suggested.
"The would be the idea." Miller scanned the area around him, evaluated the surrounding buildings. "Jackson. If we can, I'd like to get you up in that bell tower."
"Give you a little company if you need it."
"Yes, sir. Some company couldn't hurt. I'd say a thirty with about a thousand rounds would be OK."
"Parker, job opportunity." The corporal shouted to a nearby soldier.
"Yeah, well its not the worst idea ever, Captain." Reiben said as he lazily leaned on Chrissie, who shoved him off whilst glaring playfully. "Its just that everything depends on us getting the tank up this main road for us to knock out, right? So how the hell do you plan on doing that?"
"Wow," Chrissie look shocked. "You've made another good point, Richie. Are you sure you're alright?"
Reiben poked his tongue out childishly before following Miller.
"Reiben's right." Horvath said. "As Chrissie pointed out what we got here are a bunch of spit wads, so how do we stop them tank if we get it to commit?"
"Give it a rabbit to chase." Miller motioned to some sort of vehicle. "We could hit the tank in the tracks."
"Yeah, but with what?"
"Well, we could try a sticky bomb."
"A sticky bomb, sir?" The surrounding soldiers looked at the Captain as if he had grown a second head.
"Sir, are you making that up?"
"No. Its in the field manual. You can check it out if you want to."
Jackson chuckled. "We seem to be out of field manuals, Sir. Perhaps you could enlighten us?"
"Right, you have some demolition don't you? Some TNT or composition B?" Miller asked.
A soldier stepped forward. "Yep, that Sir is what we have plenty of. I have that bridge wired with enough composition B to blow it twice."
"Right, you can spare some then." Miller headed towards the bridge, the group following behind. "You take a standard issue GI sock, cram it with as much comp B as it can hold. Rig up a fuse and you coat the whole thing with axel grease. That way when you through it, it should stick. A bomb that sticks, a sticky bomb. Come up with a better way to knock the tracks of the tank, I'm all ears."
"This is good." Reiben shook his head. "Now we've got to surrender our socks."
Chrissie chuckled and punched his arm gently as Reiben smiled brightly back.