[h3]Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia[/h3]

It was remarkable how quickly a peaceful afternoon could descend into chaos. Within seconds of radioing Hoek, all hell broke loose among the bocage. Squad 4 began their advance cautiously at first, hanging back behind Carn as Squad 9 look the Imps head on. Harald whistled appreciatively as an HE shell sent bits of masonry flying, forcing the shell-shocked defenders into cover. Why hadn't [i]they[/i] been issued a damn tank too? It would have made things so much easier in Le Haye Sainte... It wasn't long before the defenders realised they were being flanked. A heavy machine-gun shifted fire toward them as the shocktroopers broke cover to charge the coach house, rounds scything overhead as Harald's section moved forward to provide cover. [b]'Alright, pop and shoot kids, let's keep their heads down'[/b] The four of them split into a ragged line a few metres apart, popping up to fire a handful of rounds and ducking before the MG could zero in on their position. A minute in the sergeant stood to fire again, only to find himself staring directly into the gunner's eyes across the way. [b]'Son of a...'[/b]

[h3]Private Alonso Bons, Gallian Militia[/h3]

Combat was almost more relaxing than sitting about with the squad, trying to avoid the rest of them and their social ways. If he had had it his way, Alonso wouldn't even have to talk to the others... At least now they were too preoccupied by not dying that they couldn't get on his admittedly fraying nerves. He popped up, fired a lance into the second floor; no detonation, a dud. [i]Valkdamned Imp piece of shit![/i] It earned him a burst of fire in retaliation, necessitating a rapid dive into cover. As he glanced around at the others, Alonso was satisfied that at least they were doing their part, keeping attention and such. Maybe they would even make a differ- A burst of fire caught the sergeant in the chest, throwing him to the ground. For a long moment, Alonso lay there staring in horror, until finally he pulled himself together enough to crawl over and pull the stricken Harald out of the line of fire. [b]'Oh jeez, oh Valk...'[/b] There was blood everywhere, holes torn right through his chest piece... Despite his violently shaking hands and a sudden lump in his throat, Alonso cracked open his medical kit and began to patch the sergeant up, to the best of his ability.

[h3]Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia[/h3]

[b]'Fu... ck... this...'[/b] It has all happened so fast that Harald wasn't even sure what [i]had[/i] happened. White hot pain, sudden dizziness and now, Bons looking like he was trying not to cry as he poured liquid ragnaid over Harald's tattered chest. He turned his gaze down, slowly and painfully. [i]Damn,[/i] he thought. [i]That's fucked up.[/i] When a man can see his own broken bone jutting from his chest, he knows he is in for a rough time. A vague thought struck as his conciousness began to fade; if he were to die, who would take over the squad..? Would they be grateful to have a non-Darcsen NCO replace him? [i]Well... Doesn't matter now.[/i] The light slowly drained from his eyes as the battle raged around them.