Grimoires and Gunsmoke

First Lieutenant Dupont leaned back against the cool walls of the rumbling of the Bradley Fight Vehicle he was riding in with his eyes closed, dreaming of being anywhere else other than this cramped piece of shit. Hell, the man would have preferred sitting in a deep, dark, and dank foxhole rather than being smoothed shoulder-to-shoulder with his equally cramped and equally irritated soldiers.

To make matters worse, their mountains of gear took up the space they would have had to spread the legs. This usually wouldn’t have been a problem given any other training exercise, but right now, they were simulating an assault on a position before supply lines had been established.

At least this wasn’t as bad as it could have been. They weren’t conducting this maneuver in full Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical (NBC) kit. Just imagining suffocating in what essentially equated to a full-body BDSM suit and a gasmask while in a cramped and stuffy box with 4 or 5 other people made DuPont’s skin crawl.

However, the thoughts on the finer aspects of the suck were soon washed away by the voice of the Bradley’s commander coming over the net through his headset.

“Lieutenant, I think we’re coming into visual of a few structures.” Hofmann, the vehicle commander of this Bradley, voiced over the din of the rumble of Bradley’s engine. “Fit’s the description of the forts the scouts found earlier.”

DuPont turned his head and did his best to take a peak of the Commander's screen, but the turret soon rotated, turning it out of view. A click of annoyance left the Lieutenant's mouth, but he wouldn’t take any risks, so the man switched frequencies on his radio and clacked down on his push to talk.

“Barvo actual, this is Bravo 2 actual.” DuPont said smoothly as he tapped the leg of one of his infantrymen and indicated nonverbally to get ready. “How copy, over?

"Bravo 2 actual, this is Bravo actual. Send traffic, over," the company commander's voice crackled over the radio.

The soldiers in the Bradley started to shift in anticipation as they racked their weapons and checked their gear. "Bravo actual, Bravo 2 actual. We have visual on structures matching scout reports of enemy fortifications. Preparing to engage, over," Dupont reported, his voice steady despite the tension building in the confined space of the Bradley.

"Bravo 2 actual, Bravo actual. Roger that. Proceed with caution." The company commander's response was suddenly cut short as Hofmann immediately caught everyone else's attention. "Driver, stop! Infantry out in the open, 500!"

In an instant, the Bradley stopped just in front of a shallow berm as it’s turret swung rapidly toward where the commander's sight was pointed. The gunner, Sergeant Kim, called out as their Bradley came to an abrupt halt, "On the way!"

The Bradley shuddered as the 25mm autocannon roared to life, sending death and hatred down range while its occupants visibly stiffened. Everyone who wasn’t a part of the vehicle's crew looked to the door, wanting to get out, while Hofmann shouted commands at his crew.

Without missing a beat, Dupont immediately clacked his push-to-talk button, his voice taut with urgency. "Bravo actual, Bravo 2 actual. Contact! We are engaged.”

It didn’t take much longer for similar reports to come over the net as other Bradleys started opening up with their own cannons. But a thunderous thump reverberated through the aluminum hull of the Bradley as a nearby Abrams opened up with its main gun.

The bone-rattling blast seemed to overpower every other sound as the soldiers within the Bradley continued to shift and orient themselves toward the ramp. They were fueled more by the desire not to be cramped inside of a tiny box than the excitement to get out, and if DuPont was honest with himself, he wanted nothing else. He’d rather be out there face first in the mud and rain than packed like a can of sardines.

"Identify, Walker, 1000!" Hofmann shouted as his screen fixated on the shape of a wingless dragon. "TOW!" At the same time, the turret of the Bradley once again spun in the direction of the commander's sight.

Sergeant Kim toggled the Bradley’s weapon system switch to TOW mode, preparing the missile launcher for engagement. "Identified!" he shouted when he saw the stationary four-legged monster. A moment passed as the TOW launcher actuated and maneuvered into place while Kim painted the target with his crosshair.

"On the way!" the gunner yelled as a muffled thud echoed throughout the vehicle.

Both the gunner and commander watched as the missile wobbled slightly in the air as it followed the laser's focus.

Just as the missile impacted the target, Hofmann toggled the switch to lower the Bradley ramp and looked over his shoulder. “Go! Go! Dismount!” He yelled as light flooded into the vehicle. “Dismount, we’re in defilade!”

"Dismount! Dismount! Get the fuck out of the Bradley!!" DuPont echoed the order as he began pushing the back of his soldiers, helping them squeeze out of the vehicle.

The soldiered crammed in the back of the armored vehicles basically stumbled off the ramp with one unfortunate soul, eating it completely as he went face-first into the mud. As he tried to get himself up, DuPont grabbed him by his plate carrier and hauled him to his feet just as a massive and blinding fireball erupted from an advancing M1A2 Abrams.

Soldiers from other squads started pouring out of their own Bradleys before orienting themselves toward supposed enemy contact and lighting up anything they saw. They were operating under the assumption that they were in a free fire zone, so anything that didn’t look like it even remotely belonged on Earth was promptly dispatched.

However, this training scenario was relatively unique. Out of the corner of their eyes, appearing from seemingly nowhere were hazy-looking humanoids sliding across the ground as if mimicking human sprinting. The strangeness of this new encounter only lasted a second as soldiers promptly lifted their weapons and riddled these strange light-based humanoids.

Even DuPont couldn’t help but feel an intense, uncanny feeling as he engaged these strange, new enemies, snapping his rifle from one target to the next. He

knew that the Army had enlisted a few of those magic Bunny Girls to help simulate cracked-out swordsmen running at them, but he still couldn’t help but find it all surreal.

With the new threat neutralized, DuPont shifted himself toward the original objective of the assault on this structure. However, a pair of rabbit ears attached to a curious head caught his attention. He stared slack-jawed as bullets zipped around the protective trench line just behind where those strange apparitions were to show a curious head looking around.

The lieutenant opened his mouth to call a cease-fire, but before he could get a word out, a pair of hands grabbed the ears from below, yanking them down unceremoniously and eliciting a pained squeak.

Dupont blinked in disbelief. He was momentarily taken aback by the absurdity of someone doing something so stupid during a live fire exercise, like sticking their head out into the firing line. He shook his head and closed his mouth, imagining how badly she would be chewed out by whoever headed this exercise. He knew he'd have to report the incident, but there were more pressing matters.

Turning his attention back to the primary objective and clacked down on his push to talk. "All Bravo elements consolidate on the berm!!" he barked, gesturing towards the mound of dirt in the distance as he pushed himself off the knee and took off running.

As the Lieutenant and his men sprinted for the berm, he took the time to peer around the battlefield and couldn’t help but marvel at the symphony of chaos. The cacophony of cannon fire, explosions, and machine guns echoed around them as he and his soldiers slammed into the protective dirt mound as tracers zipped across the battlespace.

Looking over the top, Dupont could see a rough construction that vaguely resembled a castle, surrounded by dragon cut-outs with 25mm tracers and the giant balls of fire that were an inert 120mm round tearing through them.

"Nelson! Brown! This side!" DuPont yelled out for his M-240 gunners and jutted his entire arm in the direction he wanted them to start firing.

The two soldiers quickly approached their Lieutenant just as another platoon maneuvered to assault the objective. It didn’t take long for the two gunners to slam their machine gun’s tripod on the top of the berm and let loose a veritable barrage of rounds towards the representation of the enemy in the distance.

As the M-240 team started suppressing targets, DuPont lifted his own rifle and started engaging any cutout he saw. However, as he went down to reload, the Lieutenant caught sight of the fresh blood within his own platoon. It was always surreal that he had to replace men that used to be But what really caught him off guard was the sheer number of people that were taking part in this exercise. A little over half a year ago, his battalion had to make do with a severely understrength unit, but now… Now, they were not only at full capacity, but there had been an overwhelming surplus of bodies clamoring to get in.

The entire military as a whole had, In fact, been completely overwhelmed by not just veterans re-enlisting, but fresh blood pouring into the ranks at a rate never seen since 9/11. This, however, was a point DuPont contested. He knew things were a lot worse.

He had learned through the grapevine that the entire onboarding apparatus for the military was so overburdened that new recruits were fighting tooth and nail for just a chance to sign a contract within the year. This wasn’t even taking into consideration having to deal with Military Entrance Processing Stations and shipping out. These were just verbal promises.

The lieutenant couldn't help but reflect on the reasons behind this surge. The attack on American soil, the first since 9/11, had spurred the population into a frenzied bloodlust. But there was more to it than that. Dupont's eyes fell on a few choice members of his platoon - individuals who, in another time, might never have considered military service. The promise of elves, goblins, and cat girls had attracted a whole new demographic to the armed forces.

Nevertheless, His musings were soon interrupted by a deafening rocket barrage of an Apache helicopter laying waste to a far-away position before veering off.

Snapping back to reality, Dupont turned his attention back to the training exercise and began re-engaging targets when he heard his company commander shouting over the net. "DuPont! Get your boys on that wall and support the breach!" His company commander ordered

"Roger that!" Dupont replied, pressing down on his push-to-talk button.

Taking the initiative, DuPont then rolled over and made his way over to Staff Sergeant Takashi. He smacked his shoulder a few times to get his attention. “Takashi! Have you and your squad stay here and provide support by fire!” He ordered, but before his Staff Sergeant could answer, the Lieutenant jumped up on top of the Berm and repeatedly made a chopping motion toward the supposed fortress.

“Get the fuck up! Let’s move!” He shouted at his men as he marched across the berm, grabbing his men's kit and hauling them up. “Alpha, Bravo, bound up!"

In unison, the platoon clambered over their cover and joined their Lieutenant in a dead sprint across open terrain as Takashi and his squad began to dump everything they had down range. As the men of Bravo 2 made their assault, the assistant gunner, Brown of the M-240 crew, kept a watchful eye on his comrades as he hovered over his Nelson gunner. The man threw out his thumb and pink outwards and jutted his arm toward the Lieutenant, using his fingers to measure his location and the outgoing tracers of the barking gun.

Cutouts representing guards on the ground and palisades were nearly cut in half by the barrage of incoming fire from DuPont’s supporting platoon and several other platoons that were creating hell on earth. But as DuPont reached the zenith of Brown’s pinky, the assistant gunner slapped the side of Nelson’s head. “SHIFT FIRE!” He yelled as his gunner kept squeezing the trigger but maneuvered his weapon further away from the rest of his platoon that was performing their assault.

DuPont and his men were hauling ass across the open field when the Lieutenant finally noticed a contingent of French troops also bounding their way toward the objective. But, they did so under cover of their 6-wheeled armored personnel carriers, VBMR Griffons, and ran parallel to DuPont’s platoon across no man’s land.

As the horde of soldiers closed the distance with the fort, DuPont looked up to see that Apache was making another pass. It launched another volley of rockets, but before veering off, the droning sound of its main cannon cut away at whatever it was shooting at just before disappearing from view when DuPont hit the wall.

The mock battle had hit a fevered pitch as everyone, and everything was oriented in supporting the assault. A cacophony of gunfire, explosions, and shouting echoed around as DuPont navigated his way around the crowded wall as American soldiers peered around the corners of the wall, suppressing whoever or whatever was in the distance.

When DuPont finally reached the cluster of soldiers he was looking for, a group of sappers who were fussing with charges along the wall jogged over to see what the next steps were.

Before he could get a word out, though, one of the sappers, a Hispanic woman, turned to the group of platoon leader grouping around them. "We’re almost ready to blow it!" She yelled as she manipulated some detcord.

At this point, the French had finally joined them, and their Lieutenant approached Dupont, jogged over as his "What is ze plan!?" The French Lieutenant yelled with a thick accent

The lead Sapper, First Sergeant Adams, turned and began laying out the plan. “Alright, we've got charges set on two wall sections.” He yelled as loud as he could over the din of battle. “Once they blow, You guys gotta go in hard and fast!! You French boy, you take the Right breach and immediately head for the main structure!” He then turned to DuPont and his sister platoon’s Lieutenant. “You boys take the right and secure the courtyard!”

The French lieutenant nodded, "Compris! We will take ze right breach!"

Adams continued, "We got drones watching what's inside!” He pointed towards the quadcopter high in the sky. “Looks to be heavy resistance inside, so you fire and check your corners! We blow it in 30!"

"Understood!" Dupont acknowledged as he looked ahead to see of his last squad bolting to his position with another company covering their approach.

Just as they reached the fort, the female sapper turned around and screamed, "Breach in twenty seconds!"

The French lieutenant turned to his men, rapidly relaying the information in French as he motioned for them to start backing up. DuPont and his men did the same as the sappers began wheeling the reel of detcord.

"Ten seconds!" The female sapper gave one last call as everyone readied themselves, angling their heads downward so their Kevlar helmets would take any debris that might fly in their direction.

"Three... two... one…! Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!" The call rang out, and two earth-shattering explosions rocked the battlefield.

The infantry’s reaction was immediate. The soldiers didn’t even bother shaking off the concussive force they just endured and sprinted towards the openings without a hint of hesitation. Dupont didn't even have to give instructions as several of his soldiers pulled the pins on flashbangs and tossed them through the breaches just before the pointman made entry.

An uncountable amount of small explosions echoed from within the makeshift fort and a second later, gunfire erupted as the soldiers threw themselves inside as fast as they could. The men fanned out, laying waste to cardboard cut-outs and other strange silhouettes shaped like whatever enemy they found during the initial invasion.

The Army Corps of Engineers had created a rough but effective replica of a fantasy fortress for this exercise from the details from raids on the other side of the rift. The exterior walls were made of reinforced plywood and sandbags, painted to resemble stone. The courtyard beyond was a maze of obstacles designed to simulate the layout of a castle laden with the occupants equipment.

Wooden structures representing keeps and towers dotted the courtyard and their windows filled with pop-up targets. Hay bales and overturned carts were strewn about to represent defenders making their own cover to repel attackers and in one corner, a raised platform simulated a wizard's tower, complete with cardboard cut-outs of robed figures casting ‘spells.’

"Clear left!"

"Watch that tower!"

"Movement second floor!"

Soldiers yelled commands and concise situation reports as they quickly and efficiently moved through the courtyard. The targets within the building itself were completely obliterated as bullets ripped them to shreds, and soldiers tore away at the targets to indicate they were neutralized. In what seemed like a flash, the courtyard was flooded with people as the French troops mirrored the Americans, firing and maneuvering toward the keep proper to overrun it quickly.

Once inside the fortress, Dupont spotted more elaborate setups all over the place. One area was filled with strobe lights and fog machines representing magical effects. Another area represented strange, large beasts and obstacles spread throughout the courtyard that required the soldiers to navigate through.

Despite the fantastical elements, the exercise remained grounded in the tactics that soldiers were already intimately familiar with. A few changes had been made to account for the more melee-centric warfare they were more than likely to encounter, but the essence of this new standard operating procedure (SOP) remained the same.

At least for now.

Regardless of what SOP the assault teams honed their muscle memory on, they kept in the back of their minds that actual combat would be absolutely nothing like their training. Even as they hit their corners hard, the men of the American and French brigades taking part in this exercise knew that all of it would go out the window on first contact and new SOPs would be learned in blood.

However, no matter what they drilled, one core operational philosophy remained true: Speed, surprise, and the violence of action were the only dogmas they could rely on in combat.

It wasn’t long before DuPont’s Platoon and the other American forces secured the courtyard, enabling the French to clear the first compound's bottom floors systematically. With the open secured, more soldiers flooded through the breached walls, and teams quickly organized to assault other buildings spread throughout the fort. Along with the infantry were the French Griffons, who barrelled through the larger opening and into the courtyard, adding another layer of firepower as their turrets swiveled to potential threat areas.

With the courtyard under control, DuPont turned to watch as the upper floors were slowly and methodically cleared, with rifles, machine guns, and cannons pointed at every window. It was a surreal experience, like witnessing a symphony of orchestrated chaos. Explosions from grenades were tossed into rooms reverated through the wood and stone, gunfire echoing out of the windows and silhouettes from soldiers, pieing room painted an orderly discord that was almost hypnotic.

Every individual unit, from the company level all the way down to the fireteam, acted independently yet almost in lockstep as they worked.

DuPont couldn’t help but think about one particular sentiment that was universal across the Military, but it was especially true for the Army. Leadership in the armed forces could ruin anything, including a day out to the beach. But when it came to combat… They truly knew how to party.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, shouts from inside the structure reached the Lieutenant’s ears as the team leaders from the assaulting units slowly called out that their buildings were clear over the net. Soon, it became apparent that they had completed their objective and had completely overrun the fort, so their initial role in this specific battle came to a close, and now they were awaiting further orders.

However, the sounds of exercise continued to rage as heavy weaponry continued to fill the air with its awful noise. Cannons bellowed tracks rumbles and explosions shook the ground as more American French troops maneuvered throughout the training grounds.

He came to a stand and allowed himself a moment to take a breath as his eyes swept over to the 'casualties' scattered throughout the courtyard. Medics swarmed all around them, treating simulated wounds, trying to build some more practical muscle memory before the real deal kicked off.

As Dupont surveyed the shoddily constructed fort, Staff Sergeant Takashi made his way over with an impassive look. “Sir, what do you think are the chances of us actually taking over… castles like this on the other side?" The squad leader asked in a tone that was mixed with curiosity and skepticism. "You think they set up their defenses with fucking light strobes and dry ice?"

The Lieutenant snorted as his eyes scanned the setup around them - the lights and fog machines simulating magical effects felt more like they were having a rave than… being a representation of wherever the hell they were destined to go. "Fuck no," he replied, his voice gruff. "Intel's been all over the place. One minute they're talking about medieval castles and then trenches, but now we’re hearing some bullshit about giant floating buildings."

Takashi’s eyes fluttered momentarily as if he were experiencing mental overload. At first, he thought the lieutenant was joking around, but DuPont's severe expression told of another story.

"What? Like a fucking... airship or something?" Takashi's face scrunched up in disbelief, as if the very concept was causing him physical pain to imagine.

Dupont's face was a mask of resigned confusion as he just shrugged. "Hell if I know. Command's been switching up what we should expect on the other side every other goddamn day.” He basically spat. “There's no way to get a handle on whatever in the hell is happening over there."

As they spoke, several more vehicles slowly made their way through the massive holes they'd blown in the fort's walls. Now that the fort had been secured, medics and idle soldiers ran around to set up a makeshift casualty collection point.

Peering around further, DuPont watched the scattered remains of what he assumed was a castle quickly turn into a hub of organized chaos as medics and support staff rushed to erect tents. "You know what?" he suddenly spoke, turning to his Staff Sergeant. "I can’t even say that I would be surprised if we up end up finding out fairies and the wizard of fuckin’ Oz is real or some shit." He grumbled while reaching into his pouch and pulled out a fresh magazine

“Imagine finding if we find The Tin Man or Dorothy there.” The Lieutenant chuckled before he caught the sight of their company commander, Major Ward, striding purposefully towards them.

Ward's face was the very definition of incredulity as he marched over, throwing his hands around, barking at soldiers around him in a flustered fashion. "Get your shit together! We're moving out!" His voice carried over the din of battle, sharp and commanding.

Turning to Dupont, Ward's tone didn't soften. "DuPont! Link back up with your Bradleys! We've got new tasking!"

Dupont nodded sharply, his mind already shifting gears. "Roger that, sir. What are we hitting?" He replied, slapping the new mag in his rifle.

The Major opened his mouth for a moment before closing it. He didn’t quite want to say it for fear of sounding like a crazy person, but orders were orders. “Intel has picked up something big. We are to simulate an assault on a…” He paused before his eye twitched. “Floating fortress.”

A heavy silence fell over the three men as they stood there, staring at each other awkwardly. The absurdity of what was just said seemed to be in the air like a dense fog. Ward's eye started to twitch slightly, Takashi's seemed to cringe slightly, and Dupont's face remained frozen in his best attempt to keep the insanity from getting to him.

"Roger that, sir." DuPont was the first to break the uncomfortable silence as he pretended it was the most logical order to be given. He deemed that just sweeping the ridiculousness of ‘attacking a floating fortress’ under the rug and handling it with as much professional decorum as possible was the correct path forward.

The near-casual and absurd acknowledgment seemed to snap both Major Ward and Staff Sergeant Takashi back to reality as the two shifted to start moving. Ward gave a curt nod, clearly grateful for Dupont's ability to roll with the punches, and marched off to organize the rest of his men. While Takashi just stood there, unsure of what to do next

“What the fuck?” Takashi voiced his disbelief.

Once again, DuPont simply threw up his hands as if he had already given up long ago and walked off to get to work.