((Please give me a chance to edit if I have jumped in and this post doesn't fit in. I've tried to read up on where we were at, but its still slightly confusing.))
Sergeant Sal Hart "Mjolnir Actual"
Squad Leader - Marksman
Mjolnir, Odin Company
Malcaran Trench
It felt like hours had passed by, having been knocked to the ground by a Malcaran RPG during the very first assault. Buried partially in the sand, it was a miracle that Sal had avoided getting hit by any of the blanket fire that had been impacting the ground all around her. It wasn't until the numbness in her arms and legs returned to her that she groaned. It was the first sound to escape her since the startled yell as the wind was knocked from her. Her head felt like it was on fire, a killer migraine like pain shooting down the back of her skull into her neck and shoulders. If her mind had of returned quicker, she may have wondered if she was paralyzed. Her legs and arms unmoving, like rock. But as she blinked away sand that clogged her eyes, she could see why. On her side, rifle still in her grip, she was covered in wet, blood soaked sand. Bodies of her fallen brethren surrounding her.
"M..jolnir," she croaked, wet metallic liquid running from her lips as she rolled onto her stomach. The sand covering her legs moving aside to reveal relatively unscathed limbs. Looking around, her sight was fuzzy and she was certain she had suffered some degree of concussion.
"Son of a b***h," she stammered, looking at the dunes and hills with flashes of gunfire. Enemy fire. Pushing herself up, she crawled a couple of meters before rising shakily to her feet and stumbling towards cover. She hadn't felt this incapable since the Christmas party, having spent days in bed recovering from a drinking coma.
Like so many other soldiers, she threw herself into the safety of a dune. Only a few feet of soft sand hiding her from the enemy as she caught her breath. Taking in deep gulps of air, she firstly checked over her rifle and gear. Her weapons were her lifeline, more so than the basic gear that she carried, or the support that would inevitably take over in maintaining the beach once they had taken in. The side of her head was bruised, one of her eyes slightly inflamed and red. But beyond small scratches and a couple of deeper but worthless lacerations to her hands and neck she was fine.
It took another ten minutes to push forward, moving past the bodies of UGMF soldiers who had not made it this far. Surprisingly it was an easy path to travel, as most of the enemy fire was directed at Tyrfing, Mjolnir and Fólkvangr up ahead.
Suddenly, Sal found herself running alongside the beautiful 3rd Armor Brigade, but quickly lost them as she ran as quickly as she could for the front. Not stopping to watch them wreck havoc on the MG positions and bunkers.
"Mjolnir 1, Mjolnir 2 this is Mjolnir Actual. Update on your positions. Got the wind knocked out of me. Over." She hoped that her radio still worked, as she spotted men hunkered down up ahead. Her first priority was to get back to her men, and to take control in case they were hunkered down and not pushing forward.
"Mjolnir, coming in," she called out, rushing across an open section of ground to find machine guns licking at her heels. She dove in among the men, rolling on to her back with a beaming smile. It took long enough for the enemy to notice her scampering around, now the game really began.
"Tyrfing?" she asked, looking at a man and woman who seemed to be picking off enemies and staying put. Corporal Erec and Kierson by the names on their uniforms.
"Any idea where Mjolnir has got to?" she questioned, ready to take off again if they let her know or if her own men called in. "And not making progress, we're well on task to push forward, now that the 3rd Armor has landed. It's just getting started." Sometimes it only took a few words of encouragement to incite passion in a soldier.