Reincarnated: Vive La France-Chapter 38: "No Goddamn Retreat! Push the Fuck Up!"
The first gunshot shattered the silence.
Then, the world erupted into pure, unfiltered chaos.
The treeline ahead lit up with flashes of gunfire, a storm of bullet crashing down upon them.
Machine guns screamed, their deadly noise spitting a hailstorm of lead, tearing through branches, smashing into trees, ripping the air apart with brutal force.
Moreau threw himself behind a fallen log, the dirt erupting around him as bullets tore into the earth.
Even if he has studied a lot about war. An actual fucking war is so different.
"SNIPER! GET THE FUCK DOWN!"
A soldier next to him jerked violently, blood spraying from his neck as he collapsed onto his side, hands grasping at the gaping hole where his throat used to be.
"THIERRY! FUCK!"
Moreau could only watch as Thierry gurgled, drowning in his own blood, his eyes wide in pure terror.
He tried to reach to him but unfortunately the life in him was put down swifty as swiftly as it can be.
Another bullet whined past Moreau's ear, snapping his focus back to the fight.
"COVER FIRE! GET THOSE SONS OF BITCHES PINNED!"
His men obeyed instantly.
Rifles cracked, muzzle flashes erupting as bullets spat toward the enemy barricade.
The Renault R35 lurched forward, its armored bulk absorbing machine gun fire, tracks grinding the dirt beneath its steel weight.
"LAVELLE! HIT THAT GODDAMN MG NEST!"
Inside the Renault, Lavelle and his crew worked fast, their hands moving like a well-oiled machine.
"LOADING HE!"
"LOCKED!"
"FIRE!"
BOOM.
The cannon barked fire, and a heartbeat later, the first enemy machine-gun nest vanished in a violent explosion of dirt, screams, and blood.
"ONE DOWN!"
Moreau didn't waste a second.
"ADVANCE! MOVE UP! FLANK LEFT! COVERING FIRE!"
Bullets rained down upon them, but his men pushed forward like demons unleashed from hell.
Because at this time it was certain death to stay not moving.
On the left flank Renaud moved like a fucking ghost through the trees, leading his men wide left.
A bullet whizzed past his face, slicing a line of blood across his cheek.
"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"
Moreau's plan was working.
The enemy was panicking, unable to adjust fast enough.
But then
A machine gun swiveled toward them.
"FUCKING TAKE COVER!"
Renaud barely managed to throw himself into a ditch as bullets screamed past him, tearing into one of his men.
The soldier jerked violently, eyes wide in shock as rounds ripped into his chest.
He collapsed against a tree, blood pooling under him.
Renaud touched him trying to hold him and stop bleeding but when you are pierced by a machine gun death is instant.
"Fucking hell, we're losing people!" someone shouted.
Renaud gritted his teeth.
"NO GODDAMN RETREAT! PUSH THE FUCK UP!"
The gunner was reloading.
"NOW! GO!"
They broke from cover, storming the trench before the gunner could react.
One enemy turned to run
Renaud fired a shot into his back, sending him crashing into the mud.
Another enemy raised his hands, trembling.
"P-please—"
Renaud slammed his bayonet into the man's stomach, twisting.
Then slamming it back again and again until a human mess was left in the ground.
"Fucking traitor."
The last machine-gunner barely had time to turn before a rifle butt smashed into his face, breaking his nose.
Left flank secured.
Marchand crawled through the undergrowth, his breath steady despite the hell around him.
A rifle muzzle poked from the treetop above.
He aimed.
Crack.
The sniper jerked violently, tumbling down, snapping branches on the way down.
"ONE DOWN!"
Another flash from the right
Marchand rolled just as a bullet slammed into the ground where his head had been.
"FUCK! CLOSE ONE!"
He whirled, lined up the shot
The sniper was still aiming.
Too late.
Crack.
The sniper slumped, his rifle slipping from his hands.
Marchand wiped blood from his cheek and kept moving.
Finally the problem of sniper reaping life is done and dusted.
In the centre, the Renault R35 plowed through the barricade, crushing barbed wire, sandbags, and men alike under its unstoppable weight.
Moreau vaulted over the wreckage, his rifle snapping up.
An enemy soldier was trying to reload.
Too slow.
Moreau shot him in the chest.
Another charged at him, bayonet raised
Moreau sidestepped, grabbing the bastard's arm and slamming his knife into his ribs.
The man screamed, blood pouring from his mouth.
Moreau yanked the blade free, turning just as an officer tried to draw his pistol.
"Not fast enough."
Crack.
The officer crumpled, a bullet through his skull.
Renaud's team pushed hard from the left, storming through the last line of defenses.
One of Moreau's soldiers wasn't so lucky.
A hidden gunner burst from cover, unloading into the man's side.
The soldier collapsed, gasping for air, clutching at the gaping wounds in his stomach.
Moreau sprinted toward him, but the life was already gone from his eyes.
Rage boiled inside him.
He whipped around, locked onto the bastard who had shot his man.
The enemy froze.
Moreau fired once.
Then again.
And again.
The soldier jerked with each impact, his body flopping onto the ground in a twitching, bloody heap.
Moreau spat.
"That's for my men, you fuck."
The final remnants of the enemy force were broken, retreating, desperate.
One officer screamed orders, trying to rally them.
Moreau took aim.
Crack.
The officer collapsed, choking on his own blood.
The last few enemy soldiers dropped their weapons, raising their hands in surrender.
Moreau stepped forward, rifle still raised.
One man stammered.
"P-please… we… we were just following orders…"
Moreau stared at him.
"So was I."
Crack.
The man collapsed, lifeless.
Moreau turned to his men.
"Kill the rest."
Gunfire erupted again.
No prisoners.
Smoke and the stench of blood filled the air.
The barricade was theirs.
Renaud walked up beside Moreau, panting.
"Fucking hell." He wiped blood from his face. "We lost good men today."
Moreau said nothing.
His eyes were locked on the bodies scattered across the field.
They had won.
But deep inside he was full of rage.
He lost men, good men not to any german or hostile forces but to their own people.
This is a fucking betrayal by thier own country
It doesn't matter what game the high command is playing but the moment he reaches the base he is going to rally the troops.
Its time these fucker stop fucking with normal french lifes.
