'No Country of Mine'
November 15th
Year 142
Fifth Era
Valo was a land of climates that varied more than the governments of each nation; where a man could only trust in his own climate in order to survive, it was difficult for those to adapt and shift into new territories. For the Wrea Federation, it was something they had been preparing for the entire Fifth Era, seemingly. Ever since the Year 004, so-called spies were sent all over to each nation, studying and living there for whatever reasons. Originally, the people of countries such as Avea, Hollai and Buo, all lived in relatively different environments. Some contained mountains, others marshlands and plains. The countries that stood between the 'Triple Powers of the West' and the 'Behemoth of the East' showed names like Juva, Nokai and Loiat, with many more on the side. They all had their own climates, and these climates played a huge role in their own natural defences that kept them sustainable for the years to come.
By the Year 105, the first Aircraft was built. It was the Wrea Federation who were quick to claim it, under the pilot's name of Julian Schmitten, one of the 'Directors' chief engineers. At first, it was a sign of national and global progress, spreading its word throughout Valo and to the other continents, such as Hua and Esvin. However, it was Avea that was quick to take notice of their capabilities. The Wrea Federation had a past of being ruthless to the other continents during their Imperial ages, so what could it mean to have them turn on a much more local opponent. It was first predicted when a Federation plane took pictures from above Avea's Capital in the year 132. The Fifth era was beginning to claim its historical key-point in time.
By the time the was was declared in the Year 140, everything plummeted. The Gersa Coalition was created, becoming a key-opponent to the Wrea Federation. Countries inbetween had already fallen by the time the Coalition was made, and they hadn't the resistance to defeat the Wrea Forces. Somehow, they could defy the laws of territory and march on, with machines as destructive as any other. The Coalition was already ready by the time they reached their borders, at least in the terms of equipment, and soon stories of valiant victories and agonising defeats spread like wildfire amongst the war-effort factories of the Gersan Homelands.
But there was the Year of 141, late December. The Gersan Forces made a large-scale attempt to drive their foes from their bases and towns in a wave of fire, and were able to gain half of Buo back, which had lost the most ground. Yet, it wasn't enough. It only proved itself in creating an unstable stalemate. Where no one pushed forward, and no one retreated. They dug into towns, setting up checkpoints, artillery bases. The Gersan Troops landed mobile aircraft carriers, turning them into ground and sky bases. The countryside had almost been destroyed. Whereas the Wrea Federation were the masters of the conventional field-warfare, the urban conflict reined supreme to the Coalition. The stalemate was what created one of the most decisive strategies in the entirety of the `Triple Nation's` existence. The 65th Spearhead Division.
They had been training for a few months, mostly made up of those dragged from factories and some that had been dragged from the reserves. Many weren't soldiers, but they were all the desperate generals could spare without losing the defences on the frontlines. It was a risky move, but they were beyond the point of turning back.
What had laid for the 65th in the present time was a difficult situation. Everyone had been practically strapped to a naval vessel and travelling for a few days. They had to land on the coastal lines of the Wrea Federation fatherland. As difficult as it seemed for such a strange military division, they had succeeded in capturing the beachhead. Well, it at least took the support of the Navy and Sky Navy. They arrived in waves, the first wave being the only one to take resistance during their landing. The second wave held some of the most important figures in the entire Spearhead Operation, 7th Platoon...
Well, nearly all of them. Sergeant Svaska, the Platoon Leader underneath the command of 1st Lieutenant Smithens, was barking away at those within their large landing craft. Prisoners, factory workers, nurses, teachers, mothers, fathers...All of them were receiving his briefing. They had heard most of it already, but some of the information was new, at least new to those on-board.
"Ladies and Gentlemen...Glad you could join me in this bucket of shit, where you lot fill up its contents. Welcome to Revea, the Northern Coast of the Feds' territory. You lot better be taking a sigh of relief, as you have missed the worst that we are going to encounter. Before the beach was bombarded by the Nachita-Class Behemoth we have available, our first wave were cut down from 100% to about 14%, including one of our own platoons who weren't designated for the coastal assault. At least you get some breathing room." Svaska was an elder man, older than almost everyone on the transportation vessel. He didn't expect any replies to anything he said, only for those to follow him...correctly. "When we hit the beach, in about 2 minutes, I want you to start assisting the support-Platoons in unloading all our spare gear. Once you have completed that, and most likely had your chit-chats, I want you to report back to me by the second rally point, as soon as possible. Anyone who is too late is left behind, so don't fuck around too much."
From the shoreline, a man, who's hand slightly shook from both the wintry cold and the sights seen at least two hours ago, remained still in place. His own Platoon were arriving in their large landing craft, where he wished he had been earlier. Corporal Isiah Neskrivich, one of the five members of 7th Platoon elected to go on the First Wave. The sights were horrible, but that didn't let him slip...He had his photos if anyone were to ask how it was, but by the time his comrade's craft landed, he hoped they would be talkative enough to clear his head...
