Chapter 26: The Trenches

Main Trench

Jutfield Gap, Eden, Mars

Saturday, March 21, 2150

Corporal Jamison Rugby, Second Squad, Second Platoon, Charlie Company, Fourth Battalion, Three-Fifteenth Armored Infantry Regiment (Dismounted), looked through his periscope-mounted sensor array at the trenches in front of his position. How anybody could live through the hell he was seeing was beyond him. Considering the standard MPG doctrine of not fighting at suicide odds, he was sure that if he was a WestHem Marine, he’d be bugging out as quick as possible!

Dismounted armored infantry was the same as regular armored infantry except that they weren’t provided with an APC to ride around in. As heavily armed as their armored cavalry cousins, dismounted infantry were stationary troops, assigned to fixed positions. On earth, pure infantry units had been the historic norm, only being replaced by mobile infantry once motorized vehicles were invented two-hundred-fifty years ago. At first it was simple farm trucks, faster and more reliable than the horses they replaced. Then it became specialized armored vehicles, bullet resistant and tracked so they could leave the roads. Finally, they became completely armored boxes, fast enough to keep up with a tank and armed with antivehicle weapons of their own.

Current armored personnel carriers were high speed heavily armed and armored tracked vehicles capable of taking on anything the enemy had except for tanks and carrying a squad of ten biosuited armed and armored soldiers. WestHem and EastHem APCs could operate not just on Earth, but in the airless environments of the Moon, Mars, and the larger moons of Jupiter. MPG armored personnel carriers were different, in that they were designed to only operate on Mars, so they had Mars-specific features, such as an onboard oxygen generator which extracted oxygen from the thin Martian atmosphere. They were marvels of engineering - and very expensive. That wasn’t an issue on Mars since their unique economic system allowed the government to simply create credits from nothing. What Mars didn’t have was enough capacity or time to create enough APCs to cart around every infantryman they had training.

Dismounted infantry on Mars were trained to man static defenses, where they didn’t have to ride around in APCs, following the tanks and charging into battle. They were assigned to the defensive positions surrounding each of the major Martian cities, to man the trenches and turn back any invaders. Things had changed since the first invasion.

The defensive lines the MPG manned during Martian Hammer had been slowly built over the years between the creation of the Martian Planetary Guard and the Revolution. There were multiple lines of trenches and fixed defenses running from the farthest range of the 250mm artillery back to the edges of the cities. They were designed to slow and bleed the Marines as they attacked, maximizing Marine casualties while minimizing MPG losses. The pre-Revolution plan was to use mobile forces, armored cavalry regiments, to defend the forward lines. They could move back as needed, ending at the final lines with a core of pure infantry as the final defense. In a stunning example of Marine and WestHem arrogance, even though they knew the MPG was building defenses, they didn’t even bother studying them or downloading their specifications.

For Martian Justice, the MPG changed their defensive planning. At New Pittsburgh and Eden, the Marines got much too close to the cities for comfort. It was decided a massive forward defense was needed, rather than a defense in depth. Using Martian Hammer as a baseline, the front-line defenses were to be constructed so that they could absorb and destroy three times the baseline attack. In a reversal from Martian Hammer, the dismounted infantry would be based forward, with the armored cavalry in the rear, ready to plug any holes that might develop.

The main defense in Eden was a kilometer back from the narrowest point across the Jutfield Gap. For over a year, Martian bulldozers and graders had prepared the attack zone, digging a trench across the twenty-five-kilometer stretch, then hardening it with reinforced concrete and cemented bags of industrial metal shavings. Over the trench was built a meters-thick overhead cover of more reinforced concrete and cemented shavings sandbags. Ten meters up and ten meters back was a second reinforced trench position; a third line was built above and behind the second position. The effect was a long horizontal artificial hill going from one side of the Gap to the other. Angled communications trenches ran from the fortified line through the hill to safe areas in the rear, where trucks or Hummingbirds could take casualties back to Eden.

Forward of the defensive positions, where the walls of the Gap became too steep for vehicles to traverse, a series of antitank and antipersonnel ditches ran across the front. Antitank ditches had shallow slopes on the enemy side, and sheer walls on the Eden side; it was easy for tanks to drive in and impossible for them to drive out. They could conceivably turn around and drive out, but they would be exposed to antitank fire from the manned trenches and the troops hidden up in the hills overlooking the ditches. Antitank track busters were liberally placed throughout the ditch, and there were three lines of antitank ditches. Antipersonnel ditches were deep and sheer, and filled with the Martian equivalent of punji sticks, sharpened lengths of rebar sticking up to rip into any WestHem Marine unfortunate enough to descend into the ditch. There were two lines of antipersonnel ditches, and artillery was trained in on every square meter. Finally, each ditch was covered with a lightweight fabric and support system colored the same mix of reds as the rest of the Martian soil. After the ditches were created, the ever-present Martian dust covered everything, camouflaging the defenses.

A second defensive position was created much farther back, near Eden, to be manned by reinforcements as needed. Similar fortifications were built at New Pittsburgh, Procter, and Libby. To a considerable extent, the MPG was throwing all their eggs into a single set of hopefully impregnable baskets.

Corporal Rugby’s squad was stationed on the right side of the trench system. When he and his squad had arrived, they had been shown the defenses, the layers of protection, and the evacuation routes. He couldn’t imagine ever needing to bug out. It looked impossible! Then one of the officers commented, “Get on MarsGroup and look up the words ‘Maginot Line’. Then make sure you are ready for what we might see.”

Later that evening he had told his lieutenant, “Thanks for that suggestion, sir. I’m sure I’ll sleep better tonight.”

Lieutenant Cloister laughed. “Nothing too good for our soldiers, Corporal!” Then he got serious and added, “Just be ready. When the Marines come - and you know they are going to come! - they are going to a lot stronger than last time, and they won’t think we’re a bunch of assholes like last time. Make sure your squad is ready.”

“Roger that, Ell-Tee.”

Now Rugby looked through his sensor mast and was horrified by the level of violence in front of him. The carefully hidden ditches were no longer hidden; enough artillery had been thrown around that the camouflage had been blown away. Now the Marines could see what was waiting for them, and still they came on. As a corporal, Rugby had been in the MPG long enough to know dedication and esprit de corps when he saw it, but no way would he have ever attacked the lines he was defending.

A platoon-level signal came through the helmet’s commlink. Lieutenant Cloister ordered, “It’s our turn, Second Platoon. We need to help. Arty and mines aren’t going to do it alone. Antitank lasers, start firing. We want to fill the ditches with dead tanks and APCs. Stick to your sectors. Fire and displace, fire and displace. Just like we did in training. Rifles, keep an eye out for any Marines on foot and spot for the lasers. On my mark, give them hell. Three ... Two ... One ... Mark!”

Rugby was commanding Second Squad, since Sergeant Buckles had broken her leg during a lightening that went bad. He popped to his feet and looked at the trench system without the sensor mast. “Second squad! Give it to them!” Dismounted infantry had ample supplies cached in the trench system and had been provided with three antitank lasers instead of the standard two. He walked back and forth along the trench, pointing at targets, and then pointing the firer to a new section of the trench after firing. That was his job in the trenches. He wasn’t a shooter, but a leader of shooters. He might not even fire his own weapon but if he did his job right, his leadership would more than make up for the loss of a single M-24.

Even though they were a kilometer back from the front ditch, Second Platoon could feel the Martian soil moving underneath them. There were thousands of Earthling 150s out there, and even with them shooting and scooting and firing back against the MPG 150s, there were plenty firing at the Martian lines. Soil was being blown into the sky around them and slowly settling back to the ground, leaving a dusty haze over everything, which their digital enhancement cut through. Being out of the trench system was an invitation to die. Even being in the trenches was not safe. Below him and to the left a 150 managed to directly enter through a gap between the reinforced wall and the roof over it. It exploded in the trench and blew back out, carrying an entire squad with it, strewing their shredded bodies in a dozen directions.

Rugby looked at one of his riflemen and noticed he had seen the explosion as well and had puked into his helmet. He went to him and shook him, getting the private to look at him. “Willy, Willy ... focus! Come on, focus! Get back to work! They’re dead! We’re not! Fire!” He turned him back towards the front and waited unto Private Willy Comstock began firing his SAW again. Then it was back to work, moving to one of the antitank shooters and grabbing her used energy packs and tossing them outside the trench. He handed her a spare and moved on; she recharged her laser and moved back into action.

When he came back up the trench, Willy Comstock was on his back, staring up at the roof of the trench, not seeing anything. Shrapnel had taken him square in the face. Corporal Rugby bent and moved him out of the way and then moved on. They couldn’t stop now.

APC 46-254A-061

Jutfield Gap Approaches, Eden, Mars

Saturday, March 21, 2150

Harlan Jones woke four hours after passing out and was sorry he had. He knew how long he had been unconscious by reading the tell-tales in his helmet diagnostics. His was the only light on the squad readout, and his was no longer green, but orange and tending towards red. The other nine were black. He didn’t need to see the driver’s; Joe DiGeorgio’s helmet was cracked open.

Harlan was strapped into his seat and laying on his left side. Through the front windshield he could vaguely see vehicles moving forward. Only his right eye seemed to be clear; his left eye was cloudy. Where those tanks and APCs were going, he couldn’t understand. They must be packed nose to tail in the ever-shrinking Gap ahead of them.

Harlan knew his war was over. Why he hadn’t died he didn’t know. He began working his way through his readouts. Radio - dead. Medical - broken left femur, tibia, fibula; broken right femur and patella; broken left humerus, radius, and ulna; broken right humerus; broken pelvis. Beyond that he knew something was wrong with his ribs, but he was still able to breathe. He continued through the suit diagnostics. His water recovery system was working, and he sipped some from his drinking tube. He was still plugged into the APC’s oxygen tanks, so he wouldn’t run out of air. Without working arms, he wouldn’t be able to get out of his seat or get to any rations.

Wonderful. He wouldn’t run out of air or water. He would live long enough to starve to death. This really sucked. He passed out again.

Main Trench

Jutfield Gap, Eden, Mars

Saturday, March 21, 2150

Corporal Rugby’s squad was down from nine total - eight plus himself - to seven. In addition to Willy Comstock, Private Hazel Humdinger was gone, being sent back when she caught some shrapnel in the chest. Her body armor had kept her alive, but she had multiple penetrations to her biosuit and at least a few broken ribs. He had ordered Joe Handless to take her down the connecting trenches to a truck which had taken her off to a medevac Hummingbird. Rugby wasn’t sure that Handless would return, since he was Hazel’s lover, but he had come back up the trench carrying another AT-50 handheld antitank laser and a bag full of recharging batteries. He looked grim, but said Hazel was alive when he left her. Then he charged up a laser and stood up in the trench. He sighted on a Marine tank and fired, then ducked back down below the parapet. Another tank was gone.

It had been four hours and it didn’t look like the attack was going to stop with the end of the day. It wasn’t like anybody needed any extra illumination since there was plenty of illumination from exploding tanks and APCs. The battle would continue until the Marines broke through the line or died. Worse, the Marines were starting to break past the first antitank ditch. Rugby raised the sensor mast and focused in on one of the breakthroughs. The ditch was filled with destroyed vehicles, some still exploding as their ammunition cooked off, and a tank rolled over the dead tanks towards the far side of the ditch. The tank exploded, hit by an AT-50, but another tank came on behind it and pushed it aside. The dead tank slid into the ditch, filling in another hole, and more tanks came in.