"The God Wars" - Chapter Fifteen: March of Death

The God Wars

Chapter Fifteen:

March of Death

By Dwayne MacInnes

PFC Daniels stood watch looking over the lip of his trench. He and the men of the now famous "Jolly Rogers" were in control of this particular line of entrenchments. The blackened field was starting to sport sprouts of green vegetation. The once fruitful farm was now a burned and desolate wreck since the invasion of minotaurs and cyclopes. This sad scene played itself out all along the entrenchments ten miles north of Zakrostas.

Daniels looked down the barrel of his M1 Garand. There was not much to see except more blackened fields speckled with little sprouts of green. On the horizon, the blue cloudless sky spread in a monotonous vista. The only thing to break the view was the growing cloud of dust, as the approaching army of Ares grew nearer.

Sergeant Rogers walked up and down the line inspecting every soldier's weapon. The sergeant stepped into the redoubt on Daniel's left that housed the M2 .50 machinegun. This was the heaviest piece of weaponry on the front. Further back from the trenches were the mortars with their crews crouching behind sandbag embankments. Behind them, outside the gates of the city, were the artillery guns. With them, the M4 Shermans waited in reserve.

The telltale roar of a flight of aircraft flew overhead. Every plane was now in the air and headed for Ares army. Daniels swore that he had seen every plane off the Kiska as well as the Pima's two floatplanes head off towards the north.

"Sarge sure looks like they'll shake them up," Daniels said when Rogers stepped out of the redoubt again.

"With any luck the army will turn tail as soon as the planes drop those bombs and begin strafing them," the sergeant replied. "If not, the artillery should chew them up pretty good. If that still doesn't take the fight out of them, they'll have to cross that minefield and tangle up with us."

"That would be suicide," Private Wilson said next to Daniels.

"Those Japs in the Pacific wouldn't be deterred by such things," the sergeant added. "I have a feeling that those boys coming down on us will be just as fanatical."

Just to punctuate Sergeant "Jolly" Rogers point an explosion erupted just over the horizon.

Captain Hodgson was leading the 12 TBF Grumman Avenger torpedo bombers over the approaching army. The number of men marching south surprised Hodgson. There had to be thousands of men on foot, horse, and in chariot.

Regardless, Hodgson signaled his flight group and led them into a dive to drop their 500-pound bombs. Ericson released the bomb in their bay and watched it tumble into the marching army below. A huge spray of dirt and steel shot into the air mingled with blood and limbs. Even in the air as the Avenger pulled up, flew away form the explosion, the crew felt and heard rumble through their aircraft.

All over, the carpet of humanity below great bursts of steel and fire tore into the formations. Despite the onslaught, Ares drove his men forward. The mercenaries and brigands feared Ares more than the death raining down on them from the sky.

Even the 16 Hellcats and the 2 Kingfishers carried bombs. They added their weight to the bombing raid. As the army suffered unimaginable and instant carnage, it continued forward relentlessly.

The aircraft then began to strafe the long columns of Ares army. Men and horses screamed in pain and death as a mix of .50 and .30 rounds tore into them. Many fell, but more continued onward towards Zakrostas as if heedless to the death around them.

The planes buzzed the army as long as their ammunition allowed. However, it appeared that Ares had more men than the pilots had bullets. All too soon, the aircraft retreated to the airfield south of Zakrostas. The ground crew would rearm the aircraft, but because of the limitations of bombs and ammunition for the aircraft, General Crist ordered them held in reserve.

Ares watched as the iron birds fell onto his men below. The war god smiled, he loved the war and carnage and this only whetted his appetite. After the planes finished their business, Ares barked an order and his army reformed themselves and pressed forward.

Then they heard a great rumble of thunder south of them. Many of the men gave up a yell, for surely Zeus had outflanked the defenders as was not pouring lightning bolts into the city. The men began to hasten their steps, the first hint of good news they had for days.

However, they were sadly disappointed as death rained down on them again. An ungodly whistling that grew louder until the ground beneath the soldier's feet exploded. Like with the iron birds the earth again erupted and shook. Men and beast fell with torn limbs flinging across the field.

Ares roared and ordered the men forward. Those few that tried to run Ares rode down on his fiery black steed. His red sword would flash shortly before a head flew into the air. The men reformed again and marched southward.

The thunder and explosions continued mercilessly. The men endured the best they could. Some were learning to take cover, as the whistling death grew closer. Nevertheless, they never stopped their forward progression.

Soon the thunder stopped. The mercenaries and brigands marched more carefully. Every time one attack ended, another began. These men from the sea had devilish tricks to play. In many respects, they were just a callous and cruel as the gods.

Ares sniffed the air. The blood and smoke, mixed with offal smelled like sweet ambrosia to the war god. The heady scent only made the god of war more determined to press the attack. His men were taking grievous losses, but he had called up every last one of his followers.

They only had to press onward and take the city, and then they could savor victory and spoils of war. The fact that it cost them dearly and that they fought harder to attain it, would make it that much more precious.

Ares' black steed snorted a burst of orange flame out its nostrils. The smell of brimstone washed back to Ares. The god of war again raised his sword high in the sky and urged his men forward. The army again surged towards the city.

Suddenly the men noticed that the ground itself started to explode whenever they set foot upon it. There was no telltale whistling or iron birds to alert them to the danger. The army again slowed and many were beginning to risk Ares wrath by retreating.

Again, Ares rode forward and started to hack the heads off anyone who tried to turn back. The speed of the black horse to run down the various groups trying to flee was remarkable. Not a single fleeing soldier escaped alive.

The exploding ground settled itself down. The army could see a long mound with a strange wire stretched across it. Behind the mound was the endless line of men in entrenchments defending the city.

Ares smiled. If he could surpass this obstacle, there was nothing between his army and Zakrostas. Victory was within his grasp.