Ablaze Ch.13: Battle of Senchen (10)
3rd Platoon and the mechanized detachment accompanying them finally reach Vanden Road.
Cover art symbols are from "MIL-STD-2525C".
Attacking - Corysia- Infantry Platoon (Bravo 3, 2/159th Infantry) + Mechanized Platoon ('Red Rock') Defending - Parosana - Infantry Terrain - Urban
Characters: Karbovic - Wolf - Squad Leader Darrell - Wolf - Medic Reaf - Wolf - Designated Marksfur Sun - Red Fox - Anti-Armor Specialist Terry - Silver Fox - Riflefur
*2/23/2012: Changed an incorrect number
July 12, Y874 - Corysia - Senchen - Afternoon
"AT gunner!"
The brave fur fires the weapon, the rocket sailing out and impacting IFV-1's frontal armor. The rocket explodes, sending hot metal through the armor and spraying fragments at 3rd Platoon. The enemy soldier sprints back behind cover, but not without a 6.5mm bullet going through his leg first. IFV-1 is engulfed in flames, sending sparks flying from the Type 56t.
"Get away from the vehicle!" a fur shouts, others saying similar things.
Just then, some of the ammunition inside cooks off and detonates in a small secondary explosion. Terry sprints away from the burning wreckage along with other soldiers, the Parosanan machine gun firing on them the whole time. IFV-2 and 3 soon find the team's location and open fire, silencing the position.
The wounded are quickly treated. Those with minor injuries proceed on their paws, but others in worse condition have to stay in the passenger compartments of the surviving IFVs. Terry, previously lying on the rubble in the street, stands up and follows the rest of the troops as they quickly advance towards Vanden Road. For the first fifteen, maybe twenty minutes or so, Terry felt alright. He could feel a throbbing pain in his muzzle as he advanced forward with the other soldiers, but it wasn't too bothersome. After that initial period without issue, the injuries he sustained are still refusing to be ignored. Instead, they have only become more persistent than before. Terry's and leg muscles begin to feel strained, his muzzle hurting terribly, and his whole body feels sore and completely exhausted. Every step requires a great deal of effort, and it's getting difficult to keep his mind clear. As the soldiers pass by the narrow street from which the AT gunner appeared from, they find no signs of the Paro. The fur had melted away into the city. Terry crosses over the remains of a house's upper story, having collapsed and spilled onto the street. An object whizzes by overhead, which the Corysians quickly identify as a jet. It undoubtedly belongs to the Parosanan navy, and the soldiers respond immediately.
Every fur in Bravo 3 and Red Rock 1 flings themselves to the ground, keeping themselves as low to the ground as possible. The Type 56t-IFVs, however, are helpless. The aircraft quickly passes overhead, leaving a few unguided bombs behind it. It falls, nearing the buildings of the city below. The bombs impact the houses just north of the soldiers, on the same street as they are on. The massive explosions shake the jagged, broken windows around the two platoons, broken glass showering the sidewalks. A thin cloud of dust clogs the street, disturbed by the powerful shockwave travelling through the air. Up ahead, an entire row of buildings have been demolished. The soldiers are only about a hundred meters away from the blast, and a few have minor shrapnel wounds, but overall they got off pretty lucky. There's no time for celebration of any sort as artillery fire lands a distance off.
"It's probably naval artillery, keep pushing forward!" someone shouts.
With renewed energy, the soldiers get on their hindpaws, eager to escape the bombardment. However, automatic fire gladly responds from various enemy positions up ahead. Terry drops to the ground as a soldier from a neighboring squad is cut down. He vaguely sees the direction it came from, and fires a few rounds in response. A nearby IFV makes the job easier for the fox, turning its turret and firing its explosive rounds at the fortified building. It silences the infantry inside for good, and turns to engage another target with the help of the eyes of the outside troops.
"Let's go, let's go!" Karbovic shouts, the enemy suppressed or killed under the automatic cannon fire.
The soldiers form two groups at the left and right sides of the road, bounding forward and covering opposite sides of the road. Sun, who is now directly in front of Terry, throws himself behind a sizable pile of mangled concrete and rebar. He lifts his rifle and fires quick bursts at a Paro up ahead. The silver fox also takes cover behind the rubble. He shoulders his rifle and takes aim, firing off a few rounds before the rifle's bolt locks back. Terry ejects the empty magazine, stows it away in his vest, and grabs a new one. Just as he had done many times before, the fox slides in the magazine and pulls back the charging handle. The Corysian soldiers close in on Vanden Road, and with it, Kado Center. The naval gunfire continues to follow them, each shell landing closer and closer. As the intersection with Vanden Road comes within sight, Karbovic's radio receives a message.
"Bravo 3-2, another team has visual on a possible Paro FO team," their platoon leader says. "Take your section and neutralize them. Target is in the bookstore just ahead, near the top floor, over."
"Copy, we're moving to location, out."
The wolf faces his section, most of the soldiers behind him.
"3-2, on me!" he shouts.
The section enters the multistory structure, evidently a bookstore, although the assortment of items left in the shop have been scattered all about. Karbovic takes point like usual, and scours the shop for the staircase up. He kicks open a door at the back, leading to the resident's quarters and the staircase. B and C Team stays on the bottom two floors while Alpha Team quickly but stealthily ascends the stairs.
With land at a premium in a large city such as Senchen, structures are forced to rise up instead of expand sideways. The highest floor of this building is about six stories high, although the floor space is quite small. As 3-2 A nears the top floor, Karbovic peeks around the edge of the staircase. The sound of automatic fire penetrates the walls of the house from outside, but otherwise the building is silent. Terry kneels uneasily a few feet back. A short while ago he was fighting in a house, just like this, and that was definitely not a good experience. Now, here he is again. Karbovic steps onto the floor, assault rifle raised and ready. Immediately, a short burst of small arms fire flies towards the Corysians, narrowly missing Karbovic. The wolf returns fire, eliminating the soldier down the hallway. However, other Paros open fire from the opposite end of the hallway. Terry clings to the wall, desperately trying to squeeze himself as small as he can. Up at the front, Karbovic partially reveals himself around the wall, and fires several rounds in automatic.
"Darrell, Sun, go!" he shouts, pointing to a room opposite of the stairs.
Karbovic leans out again, assault rifle blazing, while the two furs sprint into the room. The cramped top floor becomes filled by the dozens of small arm bullets.
"Terry, on me!" Karbovic shouts, emerging from cover.
The silver fox hesitantly complies. He pushes himself up, shoulders his Type 49, and follows after the wolf. They take a few steps before something moves down the hall. Karbovic squeezes his rifle's trigger, sending out a quick burst. Not fast enough. A 7.7mm rifle bullet rips through the wolf's shoulder, another finding its mark on his leg. Karbovic manages to keep the trigger down as he staggers and collapses into a nearby room. Corysian rounds stream through the hallway, before the team advances to where Karbovic is. The wolf lies on the hard tile floor, baring his teeth in pain.
"Kar!" Darrell shouts.
Terry has never heard of Karbovic's name being shortened to 'Kar', and makes a mental note of that. Meanwhile, Darrell runs forward, and quickly kneels beside his section leader. The wolf swears as he pulls out his utility knife to cut open Karbovic's uniform and reach the wound. Although Darrell is a medic, he is only one at the section level, and only carries extra bandages. Darrell reaches over to the other wolf and attempts to cut open Karbovic's uniform.
"Damn it, get the fuck off of me!" Karbovic roars, violently shoving the other wolf.
Darrell clenches his teeth in pain as the section leader's claws dig into the fur and skin of his arm. Terry kneels a short distance away in fear of the larger wolf, who is now attempting to stand upright with his wounds. Dark red blood dribbles from Karbovic's leg wound, who manages to support his whole weight by his two hindpaws. Nevertheless, the wolf's legs tremble noticeably, and his forepaw clenches at the bullet wound on his shoulder. "He sure is stuck up," Terry thinks to himself. Seething with frustration, Karbovic turns his muzzle to Terry, almost as if he heard that. The silver fox cowers in fear, but the wolf won't tolerate that. He on purposely grabs Terry by his muzzle, still bruised and painful from earlier that day, and hauls him up. The silver fox cries out in agony to no avail.
"You're on point, now move!" the wolf snarls, pushing Terry into the hallway with his Type 49's stock.
The fox stumbles, nearly falling before regaining his balance. He quickly shoulders his rifle at the end of the hallway the Paros are holding. He fearfully rises, and pads down the hallway, eyes stuck on his assault rifle's iron sights. He casts an anxious glance back, finding Karbovic following two or three meters back, and the rest of A Team partially out of cover further back. Facing forward again, he fearfully moves one hindpaw in front of the other, and pads towards to end of the hallway. Miraculously, he reaches the last door with no issues.
Terry rounds the corner, paws trembling. A burst of automatic fire lances out at him. He squeezes the trigger, he screams, both their bullets miss, he stumbles backwards, he trips. The rounds both soldiers fire end up far off target. The silver fox falls through the doorway behind him, into a room that is, fortunately for him, clear of hostiles.
Karbovic exploits the opportunity and rapidly turns around, entering the room with his Type 49 raised and ready. Immediately he fires a burst of automatic fire, followed by several others. By the time Terry gets up and enters the room, all of the enemy contacts have been eliminated. There are four there in total, standing near a window with cumbersome-looking pieces of radio equipment strapped to two of their backs. Definitely forward observers. Alpha Team conducts a quick search of the rest of the floor, but finds nothing of interest. They quickly descend the stairs back down to ground level, and link up with 3-2.
The section exits the bookstore, and finds 3rd Platoon and Red Rock 1 not far away. They are stuck around the intersection where the two-lane street merges with the greater Vanden Road, named after the county's capitol. Destruction lies everywhere around the large street. Tall business buildings and residential structures are heavily damaged from the fighting, marks of all sizes dotting the structures, and rubble spills out onto the road. At least the street is mostly flat, allowing for vehicles to use it. Naval artillery continues to land, the Paro gunners following the assume path and whatever location their FOs last sent. 3-2 arrives at the intersection to find the two platoons locked in heavy contact with Paros dug into surrounding buildings and fortified positions. Still, the IFVs are capable of neutralizing the threats.
On the other side of Vanden Road is Kado Center, the fourteen story mall also bearing several wounds from the war already. The IFVs spearhead the attack, with IFV-2 rolling out onto the intersection and firing a long burst of machine gun fire at an occupied building. IFV-3, the second Type 56t, comes to a halt several meters behind. It turns its main 20mm cannon to face another target before letting loose a stream of explosive rounds. The enemy is soon neutralized, and the surviving furs of the two Corysian platoons quickly cross the street and into the mall.
Two squads are sent to patrol the upper levels, scouting for possible enemy contacts. The rest of the troops dig in, and fortify the mall. Once reasonably safe, the wounded are extracted from the IFVs an moved into Kado Center. Outside, the two IFVs place themselves at different positions around the building, and ready themselves for a possible counterattack. In the mall, the Corysian soldiers fortify the mall with the help of combat engineers from the Red Rock 1. Certain entrances are barricaded altogether, providing only a few routes that allow a fur to get into or out of the mall. Rubble is relocated, areas cleared, and numerous explosives of various types set at kill-zones and chokepoints. The Corysians also fortify the outside of Kado Center, creating locations that can provide cover.
The likely axis of attack is from the west, and the Paros are possibly going to send troops to flank from the north. The Corysians plan on gradually withdrawing their forces until they're fighting in the immediate area outside the mall. They will form a final defensive perimeter inside of the building itself.
"ATGM!" Karbovic's radio bursts out.
As preparations are wrapping up, a loud explosion, closer than the numerous others, resonates from outside.
"Damn it, IFV-3 has been fucking knocked out!"
"Contact, contact, Paro infantry two-fifty meters out!"
"All units be advised, contact has been made with the enemy! This is it, no jokes, no bullshit! Bravo 3-1, 3-2, report to appropriate positions immediately for imminent contact, out!"
2nd Section, 3rd Platoon, runs to their position outside of Kado Center, at one of the forward positions near IFV-2. Terry passes through the main lobby on the first floor, and jumps over a pile of sandbags that have been dragged in from outside. Several furs occupy the area, finalizing the defensive works around the doors. The squad exits through Kado Center's main entrance and out into the smoke and dust-filled world outside. Terry quickly sees IFV-2 outside, positioned on the other side of the street. Not long afterwards, he spots IFV-3's burning wreckage at its position nearer to the west. The silver fox quickly crosses the massive eight-lane road with the other soldiers. He sprints over mountains of rubble and dives into position with the rest of the team, other members of the section heading towards their own positions behind previously constructed pieces of cover. The nearby IFV-2 lets loose a brief stream of automatic fire from its secondary machine gun, the sound reverberating through the air. It fires another burst down the street while Terry flicks the fire selector on his weapon off the 'safety' position. The Bravo 3-2 lies uneasily, along with Bravo 3-1, waiting for the imminent attack.
Terry taps his finger against the trigger guard on his Type 49, and waits. Nothing happens. The Type 56t-IFV fires another short burst from its machine gun. The soldiers shoulder their rifles, straining their eyes to find where the enemy is. A minute passes, as does another minute. Still there is nothing. A couple of artillery shells lands a far distance away, the sound of their blasts echoing across their section of Vanden Road. Terry relaxes somewhat. More minutes pass by. The Corysians continue observing Vanden Road, lying ahead of them. Eventually Karbovic asks for a sitrep through his radio, receiving the response 'hang tight'. Time drains away with incredible sluggishness. A stream of faraway automatic fire is heard. Gunshots respond, but nothing. Nothing happens.
"Combined elements from the east!" the radio blurts out.
All eyes are suddenly diverted to the east. The Parosanan assault is from the east?
"Hold your fire, they're one of us! That's our ticket out!" another voice crackles through.
Relief falls over the remnants of the two platoons, Red Rock 1 and Bravo 3. Terry spots an armored vehicle in the distance, slowly approaching. The Parosanans didn't attack for some reason or another, but everyone is thankful for that. For them the day is over, hopefully that is. More time passes before the column of armored vehicles and infantry reaches Kado Center. Part of the force detaches to assist the two platoons, while the rest pushes forward to relieve other Corysian forces that have also reached Vanden Road. The job then begins to evacuate the wounded and remove the meticulously placed explosives. The work goes on into the evening as the sun starts to set.
The whole time, Terry stays near Darrell, never straying off too far. But a while in, Darrell notices Terry sneaking off further into the mall. Having a good idea where he's going, Darrell drops off a couple of ammunition boxes before sneaking off after the fox. After all, the whole section is separated right now. The wolf knows where Karbovic is, but nothing about Sun's whereabouts or Reaf's location for that matter. The section leader won't find out about this. Darrell slips away in the mass of activity, and climbs up the now out of commission escalators, up all the way to the fourteenth floor. He looks around the food court, which takes up the entire top floor. Everything has long been abandoned, trash lay strewn about, and the store signs and displays have been smashed. The area directly in front of Darrell, where the tables and chairs are, is occupied by a large pile of rubble from the roof that has caved in from an aerial strike. The outside world pours in from the aperture, the wind and air, the dying sunlight, the steady crackle of gunfire, and the thunder of explosions in the distance.
Darrell, Type 49 slung over the wolf's shoulder, walks around the edge of the food court, around the mound of concrete and rebar. He soon spots a lone black-furred fox sitting at one of the tables, his body turned to face the broken windows, arm resting on the table beside him. His helmet has already been removed, and his Type 49 rests on the tile flooring. The wolf pads over to Terry, who turns his muzzle to face Darrell. The wolf drags a nearby chair over, and places it next to the fox. Darrell removes his helmet and places it on the table while he sits down and sighs, gazing through the large, shattered windows. Up ahead, smoke from the burning city of Senchen rises steadily upwards. Parosanan fixed-wing fighter aircraft from the offshore carriers execute CAS missions over the city, dropping their payload on the Corysians below, fighting in the Corysian city. Explosions blossom from bombs and artillery alike, throwing up large clouds of debris high into the air. Warm, humid air blows through the broken windows and other wounds the building has sustained, the wind coursing through their fur.
Without anything being said, Terry lays him paw on the arm of the wolf next to him. Darrell looks over, surprised, only for the silver fox to lay his head on the wolf's chest. Darrell pulls Terry close and hugs him tightly, careful not to apply pressure on his injured muzzle. The fox's ears lay back as he whimpers, the memories spilling forth from the back of his mind. Tears form and fall from his eyes as images appear before him of the events that happened on this day, everything that he's seen since he has been here, and what he has done. The memories quickly catch up to him as he sobs, Darrell softly rubbing the fox's back with his paw.
Terry has fired an assault weapon, squeezing the trigger in anger, resulting in the death of at least a few other furs. It is unmistakable that the deaths of the other furs have resulted directly from his actions. It is undeniable that he is the one who fired an automatic rifle at those furs. Now the actions have stained him. His paws will never be clean again.
In that moment and then on, Darrell is more to Terry than just another fur. He is a fellow soldier, he is a friend, he is someone who will watch his tail, he is someone who will protect him, and he is someone who will be there for him, and the only one who he has. He is Terry's guardian, he is the sky and stars watching over him, he is the smoke and dust that is forever around him wherever he goes, he is the ground beneath who supports his every step, he is what family he has now, and possibly the only family he will have if they somehow survive the war. He is the only one there for him, and because of that, is the entire world to him.
"It's ok Terry, just let it out. Let it all out," the wolf soothes.
In the distance, two jets release a couple of high-drag bombs at low altitude. They drop into a street, demolishing several buildings in the process. An anti-aircraft gun chases after the two fighters while the constant sound of automatic fire rings out from the streets of the city.
July 13, Y874 - Corysia - Senchen - Morning
Richard, and the rest of the battalion, has done almost nothing otherwise than march around, sit on their tails, receive incoming fire, shoot into the beyond, and for the unlucky furs, die. The most recent assignment received was to march on the recaptured Vanden Road and garrison Kado Center. Their section's sergeant drags along with the rest of them, exhausted, as is everyone else. No one in the battalion seems physically, mentally, or emotionally fit in any way. Their eyelids threaten to blackout their worlds, their hindpaws are numb from overuse, and every step requires a momentous effort. The battalion in formation is obviously not in formation. Their supposedly neat rows are, in reality, unrecognizable. No one cares to regulate it though; everyone knows the militiafurs' fatigue.
Almost everyone in the original battalion is now wounded, and behind lines because of their injuries, transferred to another unit, or dead. Out of the original Class of Y873 from Escova, Richard is the only able-bodied fur left in the battalion. After all, the battalion is only a militia unit, and almost naturally, inefficient at combat. All their conscription training had done little to prepare them for this war. All it did was make them physically fit, for the most part, and teach them was how to handle firearms and ammunition without killing themselves. Although important, it isn't enough to prepare a fur for a conventional, modern, full-scale war.
The grey fox gingerly avoids stepping on a stain of blood on the ground. Fighting for this area ended a short while ago, and there was enough time from then until now for most of the remnants of the engagement to be cleaned away, but not all. Richard sighs, cradling his Type 49 in his arms. Nearby, a speaker has been set up. Whoever has control over it now has set it to blast out some type of rock music. What a nice use of the people's tax money.
Richard passes by other soldiers, the real soldiers, the actual combat-ready units. No one Richard knows in the battalion thinks they are soldiers. In fact, some are still not used to the feel of a helmet on their heads and constricting their ears, or the heavy boots they wear. They definitely view themselves as militiafurs, and some still think that deep down, behind their rifles, behind their vests and uniforms, under the fur matted with dust and grime, they are still the civilians who were drafted more than half a year ago.
Terry stands and watches as the militia battalion passes by in front of him. The silver fox's Type 49 assault rifle has retired, at least for now, and rests with its sling over Terry's shoulder. The furs glance over him as they pass by, a look of admiration in their faces. A few seconds pass before the realization hits Terry. The militia battalion in front of him looks up to the enlisted soldiers. They are what the militia is not, and the soldiers are more capable than the militia in front of them. They have skills and strength. They have what it takes to be a part of the military, not just the Corysian National Paramilitary, and they have the courage to defend their country with their own blood and life. But the silver fox doesn't feel as if he is a soldier. A part of him still believes that he is part of the militia, like he was before, and even partly civilian. Terry feels uneasy with the militiafurs looking up to the silver fox as someone better than they are, as someone with greater power and potential, a fur who is superior. He himself is a militiafur, being drafted about a year ago, but now he's an enlisted soldier after being forced to transfer to the 54th Infantry Division. Terry would not prefer to use enlisted as a word to describe any part of his life in the military. Little was done with his consent.
The fox scans the faces of the crowd before him. Everyone here has a life, a background, a story, and a family back home, wherever that may be, or even a true love. Within a second, one of those lives can be ended. With a single bullet, bomb, or artillery shell, one of stories can be obliterated. Everyone here has their only experiences, but it will also end here. Looking over the eyes in front of him, a part of Terry hopes that he may see one of his classmates, or at least someone he recognizes, however unlikely that may be. The silver fox isn't even sure if the battalion he's looking at is the unit he was in before.
As he absentmindedly gazes over the battalion, one of the eyes a few meters away tracks him in return. It belongs to a grey fox, with their characteristic mix of black, grey, white, and orange fur. Terry stares for a second, before a smile spreads across the two foxes' muzzles.
"Terry!" the fox says.
"Is that really you?" Terry asks, running forward.
The grey fox is at the side of the advancing column, and only a few meters away. Terry covers the distance in an instant. He almost pounces at his old friend but Terry restrains himself. Instead he wraps his arms around Richard tightly, hugging him closely, a wide grin on both their muzzles. Terry's black-furred fluffy tail swishes in a blur behind him. Noticing his friend's tail, Richard is unable to prevent himself from chuckling.
"Relax, you're going to shake off the fur on your tail!" he says.
A few surrounding furs glance over with amusement, seeing a "professional soldier" act in such a manner. Terry releases the other fox from his hold and walks beside him, towards his destination.
"I... I just thought I'd never see you again! I I'd visit you as soon as my service is over, then war started and I just...," Terry says, then sighs. "I didn't think either one of us would see each other before we both die. But anyways, is there anyone else still in the battalion?"
"No, no one else; everyone has been transferred out, wounded, or dead."
Terry stays silent for a short while.
"So where's the battalion heading?"
"We're almost there, actually. Our destination should be just up ahead at Kado Center. We're just going to garrison the local area."
"Kado Center, the mall? My platoon just cleared it out yesterday, and we're still stationed there, too!"
"Really? What are you doing this far away?"
"We're sort of wandering around right now. We were working with a mechanized platoon to push forward to the mall. Everyone's tired after the op, and no one really cares right now if I step outside for a while." "Well, then it looks like we've got a lot of time available to catch up on what's going on."
The two reunited friends march forward, along with the other furs in the battalion.
(.....)
"Great, we're moving out, and now where did that fox run off to?" Karbovic mutters as he walks across the first floor of Kado Center.
"Should be where he was last time, at those apartments across the street," Darrell suggests.
Alpha Team, except for Terry, exits through one of the side entrances. Bright afternoon sunlight shines onto the soldiers as they scan the outside world. Most outside activity has died down now, but there are still troops and various equipment and supplies on the move. Across the street from them, where they had expected Terry to be chatting with that buddy of his, they found no signs of a silver fox.
"Where the fuck did he go?" Karbovic growls.
"I would say he followed his friend into the building. I mean, that guy's battalion is stationed in those apartments, right?" Sun says.
"Damn it. Alright, come on," Karbovic mutters.
The team complies, following Karbovic as they across the street. They enter the apartment's first floor lobby, and find Terry and Richard sitting at a wall, deeper into the apartment's lobby.
"Get off your tail, we're moving out," Karbovic says to Terry as he walks over.
The fox reluctantly picks up his rifle and stands.
"Maybe we'll see each other again?" Terry asks the grey fox as he too stands up.
"Yeah, maybe we will. Try to stay alive, alright?" Richard says, patting Terry on the back.
"Sure," the silver fox responds.
He hesitates before turning and walking out the building with Darrell and Karbovic. Terry reminds himself again and again of what Richard told him. "You shouldn't let your squad leader, who was it, something like Karbovic? Yeah, that's him. He's got a weird name. Anyways, don't let him control or abuse you. You have to defend yourself, not just suck up everything he throws at you. And don't let it get too far. You may be in the military, but you still have some rights, got it?" Terry ponders the possibility of actually doing it, resisting against Karbovic, but it's easier in thought than reality. He will just have to try.
Upon exiting through the doors, the three soldiers immediately see their platoon assembling outside. They head over, and line up in the appropriate locations. After standing around for quite a few minutes, the platoon leader orders them to proceed. They, and the other parts of Alpha Company scattered throughout Vanden Road, move to the West Senchen, the parts just south of the port. It is now a whole week since their arrival, and they have just retaken Vanden Road. It took all that time, effort, resources, and dead furs just to return to where they started from. Even at the Northern Front, the Corysians are forced to slowly give up territory. At this rate, Senchen will eventually fall, the Northern Front will be encircled, and the capitol city of Vanden will be captured.
(.....)
On the following day, neither side succeeds in gaining any ground. The Corysian and Parosanan troops dig in and regroup, waiting for the pending offensive. To the contrary, and to everyone's surprise, it doesn't come. At the end of July 15th, with almost no hostile contacts on either side, the weary officers on both nations declare a temporary ceasefire to reorganize, rearm, and rest. Ground forces cease offensive operations, artillery batteries stop their fire missions, and aircraft return to their carriers. The invincible Parosanans, in all their glory, took a beating from the urban fighting and also need to rest. Furs, for the first time since June 30th, Year 874, experience a halt in the bloodshed in Senchen. But it isn't long before the pact, unapproved by higher command, ends. On July 19th, the four-day pact is broken, and the fighting resumes, as does the killing.
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