Chapter 2

8 June 1941

Sinzig, Gotha

601st Tank Destroyer Battalion

The dozens of guns belonging to several Tank Destroyer Battalions aimed to the east bank of the Rhine river. The bulk of their forces were of 75mm type, self-propelled GMCs and towed anti-tank artillery. The vehicles had their engines on idle thus noise was stifled to a minimum, which gave them excellent concealment.

"Dust cloud picking up.", notified Lieutenant Pool, and probably dozens of others who glared out of their binoculars at the treeline opposite to theirs.

"Aircraft says Venmor forces are advancing rapidly and are 1000 yards from the Rhine!", alerted the Radio Operator, crouched in his seat below and to the right of the gun.

"Any movements elsewhere?", asked Pool, well aware that the observers aboard the Catalina aircraft could easily see dozens of miles of battlefield. Their tactical eye in the sky.

"Negative lieutenant. Venmor are only making a move here.", replied the Radio Operator.

"If their tactics are really as bullshit as the Goths have told us then that means for the entire 'Betty' sector this is the only massed Venmor offensive.", stated Pool.

"What about the other sectors? It can't just be us."

"We can't say at this moment but I've got good enough reason to believe at least two other sectors will be attacked as well. Hell they might even try to go for the Oriental front."

"So the Venmor won't spread out or try to flank. They'll just attack us head on?"

"Fucking suicidal if you ask me. As expected from monsters that crawled outta hell."

"Whatever commander they've got must not give a damn about preservation and just throw Venmor away as if they're disposable.", spat the loader.

"We might never know. Maybe these things are just disposable, or don't even have a hierarchy system in place.", derided the driver.

"They're creatures worse than animals. They can't be expected to show reason or anything natural.", grimaced the gunner.

A deep rumble, or rather what sounded like a muffled sledgehammer repeatedly hitting a brick wall registered to the many that could hear such a faint cacophony.

"Division artillery's been zeroed in!", exclaimed the Lieutenant from another vehicle.

When the shells flew in they landed sporadically, with hits in the Rhine itself and then some splashes on the shale of the river bank before finally detonating amongst the trees of the forest on the other side. Explosions rocked the greenery and shook leaves all over to create a swirling storm of metal shrapnel, concussive blasts and brutal deforestation.

The battering had barely stopped before the Venmor charged out of the forest and across the open field of the Rhine river east bank. Behind them the forest was in due process of burning to ashes as the artillery had set alight anything that wasn't blasted to smithereens.

"Look at those damn animals.", said the gunner with disgust as he lined up the vanguard of the Venmor charge with his sight. They ran like a pack of wolves and roared amongst themselves at the enemy on the opposite bank.

"Open fire!", came the order across the line and instantaneously every gun went off. Be it the anti-tank guns of the GMCs or the entrenched positions dispersed along with various machine gun positions they all fired.

"Fire!", yelled Pool, although it wasn't the gunner but the loader who yanked the firing rope, the 75mm gun being older than the Great War and having obsolescent controls.

Shells crossed the distance from west to east in an isntant hitting Venmor directly or blowing up nearby causing the creatures significant pain as their limbs were torn apart. Machine gun tracers covered the charge like a blanket and even wavered the Venmor from barreling towards their target.

They plowed into the river, and as one would normally expect living things to swim at it's surface the Venmor instead crawled on the Rhine river bed. Along the bottom they were practically impervious to incoming fire, that fact notwithstanding as volleys of artillery and cannon fire slashed into the murky waters of the Gothic river.

"They're landing on the edge!", warned the driver to which he and the radio operator beside him huddled themselves in their respective seats.

The 75mm gun depressed until it was practically between the driver and radio operator, it's breech awkwardly saluting upwards. The concussive force of the muzzle blast firing so close to the two men beside the gun was minimal, which still felt like a good slap across the chest and a lungful of discharged gunpowder.

A Venmor was practically split in half by the armour-piercing shell fired by Pool's crew before it exploded in the shale of the east bank behind the creature. "Those things made it across!"

"There's no end to them.", said the gunner as he spied the west shore through he's magnified sight. Within his narrow crosshair alone were dozens of Venmor streaming out of the forest like the raging current of a never ending waterfall.

"Dammit!", blew Pool who surveyed the situation through his binoculars, standing upright on the vehicle's rear. "We don't have enough firepower to conter them."

Venmor dropped like flies at the constant anti-tank fire storming through them, ripping their limbs and bodies asunder and tossing their bodies as if they were made from clay. There was still a sense of weight to them though as their class dug into the shale and the corpses of their fellow creature who fell before them and they crawled over. Even an inch advance, for even a miniscule distance in advance of the previous these creatures died.

"This is all about annihilation. They're not gonna give up no matter how many die.", reasoned Pool in grim understanding. The rest of his crew however, were too busy feeding and controlling the vehicle and it's attached armament.

"We need to retreat and regroup!", came a yell from another gun commander.

And to that effect came the long whistle, one which was only blown at its longest to gain the attention from the men, even if they were deafened by the intermittent machine gun fire, artillery concussions and shells whistling through the air. This was soon followed by a repeated command over the radio to which the operator relayed to Pool amid the crew hurriedly feeding and firing the gun.

"Give 'em a round of M89 shot!", yelled Pool over the constant barrage.

In sequence the M3s and their accompanying 3 inch guns fired a single volley of rounds who's heads were a sky blue in colour. When they exploded, tufts of white phosphorus emitted and white hot shrapnel spread the conflagration to create a large smokescreen even the demonic Venmor balked at.

Despite this they encroached on the Usonian positions up to an alarming distance. So close that whilst the M3 and it's 75 millimeter gun was prepared for movement Pool fired intermittently over the gun shield with his M1928 Thompson.

"They've broken through!", yelled a dismounted soldier firing his Springfield rifle.

"Betty HQ, Betty HQ! 601st Battalion reporting a full scale Venmor offensive in this region. We won't be able to hold them back!", pleaded a commander over the radio of a nearby half track.

"Betty HQ copies. Have the Battalions regroup at Koisdorf HQ at haste."

"Retreat authorized! Tactical withdrawal!", yelled every commander to all those who could hear.

But the Venmor got to the positions first, slashing at the Usonian positions, their claws splitting steel plates like paper.

"Fuck!", yelled Pool as he fired on a Venmor who just split a man in two with a wide slash that dug into the side of his Gun Motor Carriage. It's claw was stuck and it squirmed as the .45 caliber bullets dug themselves into it's hide with Pool emptying the magazine.

He was then thrown to the ground as the floor beneath him pitched up and over and the ground shook with a thud. Coming to his senses from the disorientation he saw the M3 GMC on its side and the rest of the crew dead or severely wounded. A second Venmor appeared most likely the one that seemingly tipped the 9 ton machine.

"You fucking monster!", yelled Pool discarding his empty Thompson and drew both his holstered revolvers. "Fucking die!"

Unloading both his Colt pistols of their ammunition into the Venmor yielded very little effect even if they were chambered in the man-stopping .45 ACP.

Before the monster could tear him apart however tracers and their resulting bullets tore the top of the Venmor open prompting a shriek from its sharp snout. The monster barely fell dead to the ground before the howl of engines sounded overhead as P-40 Warhawks pulled up from shallow dives and circled around with their lumbering airframes laden with bombs.

Pool, now aghast with shock at his broken M3 GMC and the mangled corpses of his fellow crewman turned away eyes wide. He broke into a run with tears streaming from his eyes and black smoke choking his lungs as he attempted to retreat with the rest of the shattered Battalion. The battle had now caught fire to the forest and soon enough it was engulfed in flames and billowed smoke into clouds which the Warhawks weaved between.