Operation Alicorn Sunset

by History Student

Breach The Celeste Line

General Pharynx sat in the commander seat of his command tank, the Panther was his vehicle of choice, and what a fine tank it was. The General scanned the horizon ahead of him, a horizon he’d learned ever minute detail of over the past few weeks. The white, snow-covered hills and planes of the Crystal empire lay before them.

Having had a role in planning the panzer assault, Pharynx had chosen this area as the location for the breakthrough. Tactically there was nothing nearby, but the area was perfect tank country and thinly held by a few Equestrian and New Mareland brigades. Strategically, it was perfect for a breakthrough, and they would be able to easily develop a breakthrough and advance towards the nearby roads and railways supplying the frontline troops.

The crystal ponies were good soldiers, determined and suited to the arctic environment they were fighting at. Despite being few in number, the Crystal ponies were very well equipped and provisioned, arguably the best equipped troops on the pony side. They were also led by Flash sentry and Shining Armour, two very good generals who were willing and able to carry out total defence.

Pharynx and Trimmel had recognised that Crystal Empire troops had been the largest threat faced in the war till this point, resisting doggedly and launching determined counterattacks which often drove the Changeling back. The two had agreed that the Crystal empire would be their main focus in this campaign, reducing their combat potential and knocking out the Crystal empire was of the upmost importance for this campaign to succeed.

Pharynx glanced down at his pocket watch, held in his magic, waiting for the last few seconds to tick over before they began their attack. Behind him, 6 full veteran panzer divisions waited, they would be the first over the border. A few miles to his right, General Roland waited with an equally sized Panzer force, ready to drive for his objectives as well.

As much as Pharynx wanted to launch the attack now, they’d be torn to shredded by their own artillery. Despite 5th army having already begun their attack, the artillery barrage continued elsewhere along the line. Even now, shells and rockets continued to fire for effect on the hill Pharynx intended to smash 6 Panzer Divisions through.

The dull thrum of artillery, ever present this last week, suddenly stopped. Still airborne shells continued to crash into the hillside ahead of them. Pharynx continued to stare at his pocket watch, at exactly 11:00 am, the explosions stopped and all was silent. Silence wasn’t good in war; silence meant a storm was coming. Luckily, Pharynx was that storm.

The Changeling general let out a solitary sniff, he looked down at the engraving on the back of the watch. He hated himself for this killing every day, but he had to do it, he couldn’t bear the sight of the starving nymphs in Vestiopolis anymore; the rationing on love which left families alive on the bare minimum. Thorax’s own methods just weren’t working, he’d stood by him, he’d supported and helped him; but it just wasn’t producing results. He’d finally said goodbye to his brother when his harmonic movement turned violent.

Dressed in a leather jacket and grey officers hat was the stock image of a Changeling general, role he embodied. The general slipped a pair of headphones and microphone under hat and adjusted it briefly. Then he said words he’d been waiting months to say “Kampfgruppe, Advance!”

The driver of his own tank pressed his hoof down and the tank rumbled forwards. Behind them, the column also made to advance and followed their iconic commander leading the charge. The rumble of tank engines and the churning of mud filled the air as the vaunted tank force advanced along the disused track.

Pharynx in the lead tank led it over a line of snow covered rusty barbed wire as they officially crossed onto the Equestrian side of the border. The column continued for a few more minutes, the gun crews and commanders keeping their heads on the swivel as they scanned for any pony activity. The formation crested the hill and looked into the valley beneath them.

With the amount of craters from the artillery barrage, the terrain in front of them appeared more like the moon than the field it once was; the icy and snow certainly didn’t help the appearance either. The land ahead had visible Equestrian activity on it, a camp seemed to be set up some 5 miles away. Trucks and cars, concrete pillboxes and foxholes were immediately visible.

Taking his binoculars and scanning the camp, it was exactly as expected, an infantry brigade. What was surprising however were the campfires, ponies were just milling around and chatting, had they not noticed the thousands of tanks bearing down on their position?

“4th brigade 9th division form up on me. Unexpected thrust formation.” Pharynx told the company over the radio “load HE rounds. 2nd brigade, form on my left and swing behind them; 3rd, form on the right and hit them in the right.”

As Pharynx led his tank forwards as the brigade formed up around him. Changeling panzer Brigades were half the size of their griffon counterparts, only having 60-70 armoured vehicles making up its main body. But they fielded them in larger numbers than their griffon counterparts.

The brigade reforms were one of those Pharynx had made during the war. When he led the Panzers in the rearguard action, the general had cut every brigade in half so he could cast a larger defensive net. Their divisions still had the same number of armoured vehicles as before, but they were more dispersed now. It also reduced pressure on roads and railways for travel and supply. Overall, it was a vast improvement over their previous organisation system.

The brigades formed up as they rolled towards the Pony camp. The formation was loose to avoid enemy gunners being able to exploit their close formation, but its tactics were drilled to perfection. The past few years of combat had made sure that everyling knew their place in the battle. They all knew exactly what they needed to do and where they needed to be for this to work.

Trucks towing howitzers made up the first group to stop, they’d devised a system to have the gun off the truck and firing at close range in just 1 minute. Then the Panzers would stop and shell the enemy while the IFV’s, halftracks and Assault guns raced forward. The assault guns would stop at close range and takeover shelling duties from the tanks who would advance past the assault guns. The PanzerGrenadiers would dismount and create breaches in the enemy line which the panzers could then exploit. It’s a tactic which had worked on the Equestrians many times and hopefully would again.

The Equestrians finally seemed to take notice of the advancing Changeling tanks as they were just 1 mile out. Through his binoculars, Pharynx could see the ponies start to scramble to defensive positions and clear the immediate line of fire. Water and snow was thrown on fires as the Equestrians started to dive into cover and arm themselves.

The Panzer brigade’s own artillery had detached a half mile back and now opened fire. The crash of Howitzers unleashing their steel rain was one which never got old, the shells screamed overhead and reached their targets in moments, detonating among the equestrian camp. Snow and dirt was throw into the sky, sometimes bodies well.

The Equestrians however were unusually fast in returning fire with their own guns. Muzzle flashes briefly made the day brighter before shells crashed inside his formation of armoured vehicles. Then the AT made itself known. Moving like tracers, antitank rounds whizzed through his formation, punching holes in the air. But the AT was poorly sighted and already being single out by his own artillery.

Pharynx’s own command tank had its own unique radio system. His own radio was automatically tuned to several different frequencies used by his formation, all he had to do was turn a dial (one he’d covered with bits of paper with formation names written on) and he could communicate to most formations under his command. The Changeling flicked the dial to 4th brigade and addressed his troops.

“Panzers halt, fire for effect, aim for the AT!” He shouted.

The tank and others around him stopped as the rest of the assault guns and PanzerGrenadiers raced by them. Pharynx switched the radio back to his own tank intercom. “Gunner, traverse 15 left! AT 400m.” He ordered.

The turret rotated towards the target before the gunner’s voice came over the intercom “target on, AT 400!”

“Fire!” Pharynx yelled.

“Firing” the gunner replied.

The 45-tonne war machine shook violently as a shell was forced out of its rifled turret. The High Explosive shell travelled at breakneck speed across the chaos of the battlefield, travelling over the assault guns and PanzerGrenadiers until it reached its target. The shell landed ever so slightly short of its target and struck the ground before it detonated in the ground and sent dirt and chunks of grass flying.

“Shot action HE, no traverse, elevate 3 degrees!” pharynx shouted over the intercom as an Equestrian artillery shell landed on the front of the tank next to him.

Its treads were blown off as the vehicle was rendered immobile, but the crew would be fine, especially with the commander’s hatch being closed as it was. As if to prove him right, the turret rotated and fired a shell at its own target. After a moment, the hatch popped open and the tank commander appeared, radio held to her mouth as she barked orders to her crew.

“Target on, AT 400.” Came the reply from Pharynx’s gunner.

“Fire!” The general yelled

“Firing” the gunner replied.

The shell arced over the Assault gun which had now joined the shelling. It crossed the Halftracks, now empty of PanzerGrenadiers, it crossed the Equestrian line being stormed by the changeling troops. And finally, it arrived at the AT gun. This time their aim was true. The HE shell detonated right on the AT platform. The Equestrian guns own shells cooked off as it was engulfed in flames. The AT piece went up in a fireball as it was destroyed.

Quickly scanning the Equestrian formation, Pharynx spotted Changeling tanks inside the camp. They were the tanks of 3rd brigade. As he was about to order his own panzers to advance, his radio crackled. His lieutenants knew not to call him if it wasn’t important, so he always paid attention whenever they did

“1 I.C 3rd brigade to command, come in.” a voice asked.

Pharynx clicked on his mic as he replied “go ahead.”

“The Equestrians have thrown in the towel, they had literally nothing on the right. They’re encircled and surrendering.” The officer on the other end reported.

Without replying, Pharynx switched his radio to transmit to all the commanding officers in his unit and addressed the officers “all elements hold fire, enemy neutralised. 3rd brigade 9th division, secure the prisoners and rejoin the vanguard. General Peiper, have your division process them.”

“Aye sir.” Replied two voices one after the other.

“9th division, move out in 5 to bypass the enemy camp.” Pharynx ordered “we’ll move east towards the airfield.”

Switching his radio to internal, the general addressed his crew “take 5.”

The hatches on the front opened as two changeling heads appeared out of the top. The driver and foregunner getting a breath of fresh air. The tank started to role forwards around the outside of the Equestrian camp, the various vehicles of his brigade made to follow him.

As if in sync, Pharynx and his fore-gunner pulled out a pack of cigarettes and began to light them. The fore-gunner lit an another and handed it across to the driver with his magic. Leaning back, Pharynx glanced at the gunner and loader who sat back and started to drink from their canteens.

“Good shooting.” He complimented.

“Thanks.” The gunner replied taking a swig of water “you don’t need to shout fire by the way, I’m right here.”

Choosing to ignore the comment, Pharynx gave the camp a sideways glance as they passed by it. He could see Ponies rising out of foxholes and crawling from tents, meanwhile his PanzerGrenadiers organised them into groups and bound them with wire. A few stayed on the ground, unmoving, red stained snow being a grim indication of their fate.

Some officer stood atop a light tank shouting through a speaker “Do not resist, do not move. You will be processed shortly; all prisoners will be treated in accordance with international law! Medics will arrive shortly to treat your wounded; any Pony medics make yourself known and you will be allowed to tend to your wounded.”

The officer looked a bit like Peiper, it definitely wasn’t, but the resemblance was there. He was worried about Peiper, the Changeling had a few loose screws which stopped from getting to high command. The tanker had committed a few atrocities during the war, but nothing which Chrysalis wasn’t willing to overlook. The real trouble was when Peiper would be detached and without Pharynx always looking over his shoulder, then things could get bad.

His tank came to a stop besides the camp, glancing back, the brigade was reorganising into its regular formation behind him. The loader, who was relaxing by the shells, looked up at Pharynx and asked “so what’s the damage?”

“Tank next to us lost its treads but is otherwise ok.” Pharynx gestured behind them “The Grenadiers will obviously have taken a few casualties, other than that we seem ok.”

Glancing back, Pharynx could see most of the formation was ready to move on. However one could never be sure, the artillery trucks in particular could take a while to get ready to off. Leaning down and switching his radio to the brigade, he decided to just ask. “Are we ready to move off?”

After a few moments, a voice came through. It was impossible to tell who it was, but only officers of a certain rank were on the channel, so it had to be one of them. “We’re all good back here.”

Taking his cigarette out of his mouth, Pharynx threw it over the side of the tank into the mud. “Alright,” he started over the Kampfgrupper wide channel “continue advance towards the airfield, Lehr devision, swing north and take the hills overlooking it.”

A round an officers replying copy returned, but the general paid it little attention. The equestrian camp wasn’t expected, but it barely even classified as a speed-bump with the resistance they’d put up. The airfield would be the first of their objectives on this armoured thrust, they could get supply’s flown in, wounded flown out, and have their fighter and bomber cover continue to support them.

The Airforce’s primary fighter didn’t have the best range, it wasn’t bad, but also not great, so airports would need to be secured to maintain air cover. What long range fighters they did have were all tied up escorting the bomber offensive deeper inland. Taking these strategic points intact was vital to the operations success. They’d outrun their air cover in the first invasion, something Trimmel was determined not to do again.

The armoured column advanced past the Equestrian camp and headed straight for the enemy airfield, it was a good half-hours drive away, so they might as well get comfortable for the trip, especially as no major resistance was expected. The tank crew started to chat amongst themselves as their general took out a pair of binoculars and scanned the western horizon.

He could see the distant specks of General Roland’s armoured column. The unmistakable flash of tracers and shells indicated they were also meeting some initial resistance. But it was nothing the vast armoured column couldn’t handle, Roland was also a veteran tanker, it would take more than a few ponies with guns to stop him.

Beyond that, the horizon was filled with nothing but smoke and dirt, the result of the largest artillery bombardment in world history being unleashed. He remembered the shelling well, many artillery crews had actually taken casualties from the sound of their own guns. Pharynx had once even visited an artillery corps involved, he had to keep his mouth permanently open to try and keep an equal pressure and stop his ears bleeding.

In all fairness to the Ponies, and the communists in particular, they’d offered a spirited resistance in well placed counter battery fire. But the sheer volume of Changeling guns and their bombers picking off unconcealed guns decided the victor after just 2 days of the artillery duel. Nothing could stand against 20 000 guns, General Lunason worked magic that way.

Pharynx let his crew chat as he himself let his guard down. Recon flights and intel indicated that the Equestrians didn’t have much behind the actual frontline, and reports from the south showed that 5th army was absorbing a good chunk of the communist reserve. The only thing they were nearly clueless about were the Crystal Empires forces.

The Crystal empire wasn’t in the Equestrian command, they also stayed almost totally infiltrator free. So the Heer was largely in the dark over the location and plans of the Crystal empire. They had to use a lot of guesswork with their opponent. A thin line of pickets manned the frontline in places and they regularly patrolled forward, but the main bulk hadn’t been seen since the retreat. Trimmel believed they were holding further inland on better ground, anticipating the collapse of the existing frontline. Pharynx was inclined to believe his assessment.

Although their location was unknown, the possibility of suddenly running into a massive enemy force was always in the back of his mind. But if they were going to make an appearance, it wouldn’t be so soon, perhaps in a day or so. When they did encounter them, it would be a horrific grind. An unstoppable force meeting an unmoveable object, casualties would be high.

Pharynx knew full well that the battles wouldn’t be decided by tactics, hell their offensive plan boiled down to hit them really hard and brute force your way through any resistance. This war would be decided by logistics and transport infrastructure. If the fleet of trucks supplying either side failed to get the shells, bullets, rations or fuel needed to the frontline troops, they’d loose regardless of whatever miracles were pulled on the battlefield.

As they drove on towards their objective, Pharynx cast his mind towards the war in general. The industrial side of the conflict was stacked in the Equestrian side on paper. Holding far more factories capable of military production which were dispersed across several nations, they could far outproduce the Changelings in theory.

But the war economy was highly standardised by Trimmel before the war, every Changeling, Olenian and bear unit used the same equipment. Everything used the same components and was interchangeable. The Equestrian production army meanwhile was equipped with weapons and tools from 14 countries on 3 continents, each one using different components and requiring different ammunition. Not all Equestrian units were equipped in the same fashion, standardised units only made up some 50% of their armed forces.

With the Equestrian economy tied down in producing replacement parts for 1000 different pieces of equipment, the Equestrian production capabilities were only slightly larger than Changeling’s and far more manageable. With the vast tech advantage that the Hegemony had managed to maintain, it kept the playing field close enough to even.

“How are we looking on fuel?” Pharynx asked the driver.

Briefly pausing his quiet conversation, the driver checked the gauge “We’re at 3 quarters.”

Pharynx nodded in understanding and let his crew go back to talking. One problem the hegemony had battled with was fuel inefficiency. Their Panzer IV and Panther tanks were incredibly fuel inefficient, partly the reason for their dire fuel situation a few months back. Thank the stars they’d never put the King Tiger into mass production, the design faults and fuel huger of that steel behemoth made him shudder in horror.

The tank had caused quite a stir, Chrysalis demanded it be produced, Trimmel demanded they never enter production. One of the far too frequent arguments between the two which nearly caused a schism took place as the two larger than life personalities clashed. Eventually they’d compromised, a single brigades worth of King Tigers would be produced for the Queens guard, and were under Chrysalis command. Last he’d heard, they’d been assigned to the army of the interior.

Just ahead of them, shielded by a few rises in the terrain and clumps of trees, was the unmistakable shape of an airfield. Pharynx pulled out and checked his pocket watch. Just 10 minutes out from the airbase. The taker closed the pocket watch and briefly stared at the engraving on the back ‘to the best big brother’. Pharynx gently placed it back in his pocket and lifted the radio, fiddling with the frequency until he found the right one. Lifting the receiver up to his mouth, he spoke into it “General Pharynx requesting fighter sweep of Dodger airfield.”

Some 2 squadrons of fighter aircraft had been in a holding pattern on the Changeling side of the border, massing just outside Equestrian radar range. Their time to target was 5 minutes and they’d have just 5 minutes for a fighter sweep of the defences. They’d then hold position over the airfield and clear out any air cover the Equestrians had. The idea was that the end of their strafing attack would be perfectly timed with Pharynx arrival, for maximum shock value.

Fiddling with his radio again, Pharynx addressed his leading Kampfgruppe “4th Brigade, breeching positions. Lehr division, continue bypassing north and cut them off. Restrict shellfire to AA and Flak emplacements, we need to take the airfield intact.” Dropping his radio, he looked at the driver whose head was still poking out of the front. “Stop us here”

The tank rolled to a bald as a wave of confirmation passed over the radio, but the general ignored it. The general would try to fight as many battles as possible with just his lead division, conserving the strength of his reserves and Peipers forces until they were truly needed. Hopefully he’d be able to prolong the offensive potential of his force this way.

The breaching formation was one developed on the fly during the first invasion, now standardised. Two tanks would lead columns of mounted PanzerGrenadiers towards the perimeter fence or barbed wire of the airstrip, engineers would dismount and cut a way through so the tanks could pass through. Once through, the tanks would let the IFV’s pass them by and provide cover fire as they dashed to the objective.

The armoured brigade formed up behind him, assault guns and vehicles not needed in the attack talking the opportunity to refuel. A company of PanzerGrenadiers in their armoured vehicles meanwhile lined up behind Pharynx’s panther and the other vehicle behind them. Similar groups appeared on their left and right. A few engineers, recognisable by the shovel patched on their uniform, climbed onto Pharynx’s tank and the one behind.

At that moment, as the group formed up to attack, a wave of fighters passed over them travelling nearly at a dive. Tracers arced up from the ground ahead of the tanks and up towards the attacking aircraft, some flak cannons even started popping off fire at the fighters. Those pilots had guts that’s for sure, nothing on this planet could get Pharynx to go into battle in a flying aluminium death trap.

As the fighter sweep began, Pharynx glanced back at the forming up vehicles. He judged it to be good enough and that the rest would be able to catch up as they went. “Brigade advance!” He ordered into the microphone.

The breeching columns began to role forwards towards the Equestria airfield. Tanks leading 4 groups of PanzerGrenadiers in the attack, a number which would almost certainly be overkill. Equestrians rarely garrisoned their airfields with anything other than AA units.

Unholstering his officers pistol, Pharynx placed it down on the turret hatch, within easy reach if he needed it. He then gripped his hooves onto his officers machine gun and readied himself. Heading straight into a clump of trees, Pharynx could see the flashes of gunfire and hear the shouts of ponies drowned out by piston engines. A few shadows passed over them as something exploded.

Then his tank broke through the trees and onto the flat ground in front of the airfield. The airfield was a mess, the unfolding anarchy of an air attack was something one never got used to. Bofors, flak guns and a few Pom Pom guns were spraying at the fighters which were pulling out of a drive at the far end of the airstrip. Equestrians were running between buildings and shouting as aircraft of various types burned on the ground. Despite the attack, most aircraft seemed to be unscathed and a few were even taxing to take off. Above the airstrip, a couple of apparently already airborne Equestrian aircraft were starting a dogfight.

Quickly glancing left and right, Pharynx noticed the other tanks of the breaching party had also gotten through the tree line. The general lifted up his radio and clicked it on “start spraying the airstrip, take out those AA guns.”

Almost immediately, the machine guns on the leading vehicles started to spray lead across the concrete strip towards anything what moved. Pharynx clicked the intercom on and addressed the gunner “hold main, load HE, go coaxial.”

without replying, the coaxial machine gun attached to the turret started to spray bullets into the area ahead of them. A few Equestrians were riddled with bullets and died where they fell, their guns briefly fell silent as they were caught between the land and air. Then they reorganised and returned fire.

Machine-guns were the first to respond, tracers arcing towards the vehicles and bouncing off the armour of the vehicles. Pharynx ducked his head down as bullets whizzed past. Then the heavier weapons started to fire, AA guns turned on ground targets were surprisingly deadly. The heavy flak guns in particular could pose a serious threat if the Equestrians managed to turn them around.

“Gunner, traverse 20 left, flak gun 200m!” He shouted into the intercom.

The turret turned towards the target as Pharynx grabbed his 50 cal in his hooves and started to fire back at the Equestrian machine gun positions. The turret halted as the gunner reported “target on, flak 200”

“Fire!” He shouted.

“Firing.”

The whole tank shook as the high explosive shell left the rifled barrel of the tank at breakneck speed. The glowing shell passed across the battlefield and towards the flak turret, surrounded by sandbags and foxholes. It landed at the base of the gun and detonated, sending the battery up in a blaze.

“Nice shot! Driver halt” he ordered through the intercom.

The tanks had reached the outer layer of wire which surrounded the airfield. The general looked back to the engineers taking cover in the tank behind him, shielding themselves from the fire. Although one of them had been nicked by shrapnel and was bleeding from his cheek, they were all in good condition.

“All tanks, pop smoke 100 up.” Pharynx ordered the breaching vehicles over the radio.

Acting automatically, the gunner and loader of his own vehicle loaded and fired smoke up the airfield. The other leading tanks also fired smoke, creating a brief and thin smoke screen between them and some of the Equestrian defences. Fire continued to be sprayed thrown the smoke by both sides, and the foxholes, pillboxes and guns still on this side continued to put out fire.

“Get us a path!” He shouted at the engineers.

The changeling engineers picked up smoke grenades in their magic and tossed them as far as they could forwards. The metal cylinders hit the mud and started to spew out the white gas. Now confident in their adequate screen, the engineers jumped off his vehicle and sprinted forwards to the barbed wire some 15 meters ahead of them. Although it theoretically put the engineers in more danger, the distance allowed the tanks main guns to safely be used, providing more cover fire for the lings with the most dangerous job in the battle.

From his heightened position on the turret, Pharynx could still somewhat see over the smoke screen and continued to call out targets and orders to his crew. “Nose hold, you’ll hit our own boys. Loader, AP shell. Gunner traverse 5 left, pillbox 60m.”

A minor adjustment was made by the turret before the gunner replied “target on, no sight, pillbox 60.”

“Fire!” He shouted.

“Firing.”

Pharynx barely noticed the tank shaking as the shell left the barrel and headed towards the pillbox. The glowing shell hit the ground just ahead of the pillbox and sent a wave of dirt up into the air. The general scowled and sprayed the pillbox with his 50 cal as he barked more orders at the gunner. “Action shot, no traverse, increase range 10m.”

“Target on, no sight, pillbox 70.” Came the reply.

A tracer flew within an inch of the generals head and nearly took off his hat. Forgetting he was leaning out of the turret, Pharynx slipped slightly further down into the turret hatch. Any one of these bullets could have made his end sudden unceremonious. “Fire!” He shouted.

“Firing.”

The shell tore a hole through the air and reached its target. The armour piercing shell put a hole straight in the top of the concrete pillbox as it travelled inside. The explosive warhead ignited and spelled the immediate end of the occupants. Ammunition cooked off and butchered anypony who was unfortunate enough not to have been instantly killed by the AP shell.

Pharynx watched light flash within the concrete construction before tracers stopped exiting off it. The general let out a breath and silently prayed for their souls. He was about to shout another target out when an IFV crossed his light of sight. Following its path back, he saw that the right team had managed to cut the wire and were streaming onto the airfield.

“Tanks hold, friendlies are on the airstrip.” He ordered through the radio.

A single engineer came running through the thinning smoke and towards his own vehicle. The engineer banged on the side and yelled up at the general who glanced down at him “you’ve got a clear path.”

Nodding in thanks, Pharynx ordered the driver forwards, and the tank rumbled to life. As they passed the breach in the wire, the general saw the engineers lying in the mud, holding rifles in their hooves and pointing them forwards. A couple of them were face down and didn’t appear to be moving, he’d ordered them to die.

Once through the breach, his tank pulled to the left, the one behind him went right. They orientated their turrets across the airstrip, but held their fire for fear of hitting the friendlies now in front of them. The IFV’s and halftracks holding PanzerGrenadiers sped past Pharynx’s own vehicle, banging their 30 cals at the unseen enemy. A few who had already dismounted jogged forwards and spread out across the airstrip.

The changeling general fell back into a sitting position in his turret. Another victory for his decorated Panzer corps, another advance for the Heer, another set of lives sacrificed for mud, another day where he wondered what his brother would think of him now.

Hopefully this war would end soon, one way or the other, he didn’t really care anymore. He’d do his job for the Heer, but nothing more; he was just numb to it all at this point. Great if they won, great if they lost, he just didn’t care.

Author's Note:

So I now realise that I totally forgot to mention that the pony defensive lines are called the Diarchy lines, the Celeste and Luna lines; whoops I guess. The chapter name is in reference to the first gulf war where the Iraqi defensive line was called the Saddam line. Next chapter is going to focus mainly on Kampfgrupper Peiper (yes named after the WW2 German general) and its ordeal. After that, it's navy time with Lysander and Mimic.

The comment by PonyDragon gave also me a funny idea, so I might include a random epilogue or separate short story (featuring my terrible attempts at humours) where the Heer establishes its own naval units just to annoy the navy for establishing their own land forces. I may also throw in the air force for good measure just because.

Feel free to ask any questions in the comments and I'll get back to you as soon as.

Comments

[grievousrommel]

And so it begins anew. Although the lack of a Crystal pony defense so far make me suspicious.

[History Student]

11896850
Ah yes, the Crystal ponies are suspiciously quiet aren’t they…