The Weight of Command

The ground shook as the enemy artillery hammered our lines with ruthless force, and enemy soldiers pushed against our bunkers, searching for a weak spot in our defences.
“General! Enemy APC’s are hitting the sou’west bunkers!” an officer called to me.
I scanned the hologram as it flickered in time to the impacts. “Get an anti-armour team down there ASAP! We can’t let those lines fall!” I barked.
“Sir, radar is picking up at least fifteen enemy bogies coming in from the west, two thousand feet!” another declared. “Signatures read as bombers sir.”
“Goddammit” I said, feeling my heart sink. “Where’s our Triple-A?”
“We’ve got two guns still operating in that sector sir.”
“That’s it?” I remarked in disbelief.
“Yes sir. The enemy artillery has destroyed the rest” the officer reported.

I went over to the window, and surveyed the bleak lunar landscape and wondered briefly just why we were fighting for such an undesirable piece of landscape.
“Let them come Lieutenant. If we’re going down, they’re coming with us.”

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