[GZG] [GZG Fiction] It is My Sad Duty...

New Guardian Times, Margaritifer Sector, November 10th 2196

To date in this hateful confrontation, I have known a lot of marvellous
officers. Ones loved and respected by the soldiers under them. Never
have I crossed paths with any man as universally respected and beloved
as Major Moises Cruz of Jinotepe. You always picture these leaders, as
being big strapping blokes of Arthurian legend, but Major Cruz wasn't.
He wasn't short per se, compact is a better word. He was a battalion
commander for the 16th Mesoamerican NAC Division. He had led his
companies through the first clashes on Centaurus and then Barnard before
being called home to protect Sol and ending up in the battle for Mars.
He was surprisingly young for someone with such a long service record,
only in his late-twenties. Nevertheless he was one of those people that
have an air about them that is mesmerising, immediately instilling
confidence. He carried himself with a sincerity that was tempered with
gentleness. He made you feel valued. This made you want to be guided and
protected by him.

The Major had a tested bunch of veteran officers and sergeants under
him. One in particular was a grisly fellow that would have made the most
gnarled troll quail. Grouse as soon as look at you and always told it
bluntly. Yet when I asked him about the Major, he got a soft smile, held
my eye, a gleam forming in his, and said. "My father was the best damn
man in this wide universe, I adored him. After him the Major came next
and only by a whisker."

"He'd go to bat for us every time. Always looked after us, he did. Would
have followed him into hell and back willingly" swore a young man full
of conviction, but whom I didn't think was old enough to shave
regularly.

I had had the pleasure of knowing the Major for slightly less than a
year when I got word of his death. He had saved my life at leats twice
and I had seen him directly in action on a dozen or more occasions. A
man who still led from the front, to sleep on the field with his troops,
I had never known him to be ruffled, never known him to judge harshly or
to do anything unfair. An assessment every single one of his grunts
agreed with. I was at the foot of the old mine track when they stretched
his body out. With my low-lights on I could see a fair way up the track.
His bearer's shadows dragging down the hillside as they walked. They had
been trucking dead out all evening, most of them coming down lashed onto
the backs of half track sleds, hover trailers or laid out in the belly
of those giant wheeled APCs. The Major though was born down by hand, as
if he were some ancient king with an honour guard. Once back at the med
station the orderlies (all long used to the dead) seemed somehow
reluctant to touch him, so a doctor and I stepped forward and eased him
off his litter. We had to half stand him on his feet for a moment, so
the doc could get a better grip and not just drop him in the dirt. In
the half light of the new day dawning, he might have been merely ill,
leaning on me for support. Then we laid him on the ground, in the shadow
of a low stone wall that ran along the edge of the med-station's central
road. 

I didn't know then how he'd died. I tried to ask four times, but the
words kept dying in my throat. You often find you feel small in the
presence of even the least of dead men, ashamed at being alive, you
don't feel you can ask trivial questions about how it happened. It
should be enough that it did. And that is for lesser men, let alone
Major Cruz. The doctors and orderlies were quickly called on to the
wounded, but the stretcher bearers and I stood and watched on silently
for a while. One by one they crept close to the Major's body. Not so
much to look, but to say their goodbyes.

The first just started to sob. Quiet, chest shaking sobs, his tears
spilling into the dust. He never said a word, just stood their sobbing.
The soldier to his left stepped forward, ending shoulder to shoulder. I
expected him to put an arm round the lad to reassure him but he didn't.
Instead he looked down at the body and said "God damn it all to hell."
Nothing more, just that and then with a shake of his head he turned and
walked away. 

The next man older than the rest, he may have had rank, but it was hard
to tell in the half light and grime. He crouched by the Major's head,
brushed a lock from his forehead and spoke to him, much like he was a
much loved child. I didn't catch most of it, but as he stood again he
said: "I'm sorry man, really sorry." Then he clapped the sobbing private
on the shoulder and led him away.

Then a soldier came and bent over on one knee. He also spoke to his dead
Major. This one was no whisper though, but a rasping raw statement. The
tone by parts so filled with aching sorrow it was painful to hear, by
others awfully tender. Looking back now it is hard to believe the words
"I sure am sorry, sir." can hold so much passion. 

Then Sergeant Riviera stepped forward. The light was growing stronger
now and I could see the tears had left glistening tracks down his
cheeks. He sat down by the Major's head and gently lifted it into his
lap. He sat there for a full five minutes, gently cradling the Major and
never uttering a sound. Finally he reached out gently tugged at the
Major's collar, straightened the tattered edges of his uniform. Then he
sat back against the wall, letting his head roll backward, the Major's
head still lying in his lap. We slowly drifted back to the huts soon
after, Sergeant Riviera the only one remaining with the Major, in the
shadow of the wall. 

***

Back in the huts the mean talked soldier talk for a long hour before
anyone mentioned the Major and then the flood gates opened. Reminiscing,
reliving old actions before coming to the events that actually claimed
his life.

The Major's battalion had been tasked with taking the crossroads on the
Cala Inca approach to Orduna. Instead of fighting through Orduna,
command had decided to isolate the city first before attempting to clear
it. This meant the approaches from Cala Inca, Severns and Shevchenko
needed to be taken literally from the teeth of the Kra'Vak. The Major
had been leading the attack for three days straight and looked to have
pretty much secured the three main corridors with only the main junction
at LK205 to go when a major Kra'Vak counterattack began. It started at
21:13 with heavy artillery fire along the main road lines. This crippled
first and second battalions, who had been charged with clearing the
eastern and western lines. The Major was attached to the third
battalion, who were leading the attack on the southern line and the
tower at LK205. Then the EM-drones noted the approach of tanks,
including a section "Killjoys" and a mass of foot and mounted. Realising
that if he didn't take the main tower now the last three days would be
for nothing the Major called for a rapid assault before the main body of
the Kra'Vak arrived. Artillery or no, their position would be much more
secure if they controlled the tower, which would mean they controlled
all the nodes from 201 to 217. The Kra'Vak hadn't made it easier
however, throwing up defensive lines around the already double strength
tower bulkheads. The tower had been a target in the last three Martian
wars and had been rebuilt more strongly each time. Added to this the
Kra'Vak defences would make this a trully tough nut to crack.

After seeing third battalion's Captain and four leading Sergeants go
down, the Major himself took over command of the assault. After calling
in his own artillery and mortar fire, to "clean out the cockroaches" he
lead a 500-metre dash through the Kra'Vak counter barrage. He then
stripped off his own great coat and ordered four men in his immediate
vicinity do like wise so that they could use them as a temporary bridge
over a belt of edged wire that was about three metres deep and edged the
tower foundations. Once over that the Major directed two sections around
the far side of the tower legs, before positioning his section to force
open the cargo access. They blew the door, following up with grenades.
Then the Major leapt in, running in bent low, with Sergeant Rivieria
right behind him. In a chaotic two minutes they killed 25 Kra'Vak in the
main cargo area, playing deadly cat and mouse between the containers.
With that bay secure they reorganised for the assault up the staircases,
through the main platforms to the tower control room. The Major was hit
in the arm on platform two and took to firing his AAR from the hip.
After 45 minutes they had reached the final hall before the tower
control room. Just then tank fire began to rock the tower, making it
shake and tremble. Without hesitation Major Cruz called more artillery
in on his position, to get rid of the tanks and then turned his
attention back to the push down the hall. 

There were barricades placed down the hall, each staffed by at least
three Kra'Vak. The Major order for grenades to be used on the first one
and once they had gone off simply hurled himself over the crates into
the remnants of the Kra'Vak whoed been defending it. Seconds later he
was back on his section's side of the barricade, calling the section
forward to use it as cover. He repeated the act four more times as the
section moved down the hall. By this time Major Cruz was bleeding freely
from the head and was wounded in the hip. The final control room was
taken in a maelstrom of fire, grenades and hand-to-hand fighting. Now
Major Cruz consolidated and prepared to hold their new position against
counterattack. The counterattack was fierce, coming from tanks outside
the tower as well as Kra'Vak foot soldiers assaulting down the very hall
complex the Major himself had just helped clear. It became a desperate
fight, with his men saturating the hall with fire while he (six times no
less) made an insane dash along the external tower girders to the
neighbouring sections (in the more easily held auxiliary tower
stanchions) to get more ammunition and grenades for his men. On his last
trip, the Major only just made it back into the control room, throwing
himself in as he felt himself hit in the leg and crumpling. 

Not long after, with little chance of getting any further ammunition the
Major and his section realise that they are about to come face-to-face
with a fresh Kra'Vak assault. 
The fighting was intense, brutal and merciless. Everyone knew if the
Kra'Vak regained control of the tower they would regain control of the
Cala Inca approach and trap thousands of human soldiers who had moved
past it and were now between that tower system and the Kra'Vak holding
the corridors north from Rog and Shevchenko.

Wave after wave of enemy fire poured down the Hall, the Kra'Vak laying
down a deadly veil of RG fire. They began sweeping the walls, looking
for weak spots in the superstructure too. A few of the fiercest monsters
managed to clear all but the final barricade system. The Major had
placed a forward defence in each of the final three barricades and all
but the last had fallen. The Kra'Vak then broke through leading them
right into the final approach to the control room. Realising the
desperation and danger of the situation, Major Cruz sprinted forward,
engaging and killing the two KraVak that had cleared the last barricade.
The final one collapsed on him, saving him from the brunt of a grenade.
Pushing the mangled body from him Major Cruz then began defending the
position himself, staying low and firing over the top of the position in
sharp bursts, RG slugs whistling by his ears. He called for the
gauss-SAW, which was slid along the hall to his feet. He then proceeded
to slice up the advancing Kra'Vak who were attempting to clear the
distance to his position. When the SAW jammed, he threw grenade after
grenade, ordering his men to roll out to him everything they had. His
section was firing in support over his head now and the Kra'Vak advance
was slowing. And then came the most welcome sound Sergeant Riviera had
ever heard. ESU bombers coming in low over the Kra'Vak outside. The
Major and his troops had bought enough time to see reinforcements and
aerial support arrive. Within a minute the other two sections were
clearing the last couple of Kra"Vak from the far end of the hall and the
tower was secure. The Major's actions had been cause enough to see the
Kra'Vak attack faulter and be turned back. He had lost a third of his
battalion in the assault, but his determination had saved the day, saved
thousands of troops to the east and west, and possibly saved the whole
northern campaign.

It was then that Sergeant Riviera realised the Major was face down and
unmoving. He raced to him and rolled him over. In the final volleys the
Major's chestplates had given way and he had a jagged wound running
across his chest, bits of rib sticking out. If he hadn't already been
weakened by his earlier wounds and been so far from quick evac he may
have made it, but that was not to be. His final words were "Keep them
safe Eduardo."

***

After the death of Major Cruz, the war did not come to a sudden end. The
universe kept right on going even if we felt it should be otherwise. The
messages started flowing. With the kind permission of the Major's
beautiful and amazingly strong wife Quinta I have reproduced just a few
of the many hundred she received in the weeks following Moises death.

>>>>>>

November 6th 2196
 
My sweetest Quinta, 

As you will have guessed there is still no air time for personal posts.
So this is a brief note to say I am fine and I love you and I hope to
see this over quickly so I can be back with you. 

At present everybody is in good spirits. We are all fit and healthy and
meshing well. I am ever so proud of all of them. Don't worry even a jot
as we are all just great. I will be back by your side before you know
it. Give little Mateo and Jimena cuddles from me, they must be growing
up quite big now.
 
My love to you all, 

Moises 

>>>>>>

November 13th 2196
16th Mesoamerican NAC Division

Dear Mrs Cruz, 

It is never an easy task to put into words my heartfelt sympathy for a
wife at the time of the loss of her husband in action. It is especially
heard when the man is of the calibre of Major Cruz. I was only his
commander and yet I find losses such as his exceedingly hard to bear, I
can only guess at how much worse it must be for you. I wish to make it
clear however, that you have our deepest sympathy and that your husband
gave his life for our freedom and future. 

Yours sincerely 

Arlo Sanchez, Major General 

>>>>>>

November 21st 2196 
Buckingham Palace 

The Queen and I offer you our heartfelt sympathy in this hour of sorrow.
While it can only be small consolation, we pray that your nation's (dare
I say even your race's) gratitude for a life so nobly given in its
service may bring you some measure of comfort and solace. I hope that it
eases the pain even just a little to know the gallant actions of your
husband have been recognised by the awarding of a VC.

Henry

>>>>>>

November 28th 2196 

My dear Quinta, 

It pains me quite deeply to be posted so far from you right now. I feel
I just have to write to you, though I would much rather be there in
person to comfort you, as I know nothing that I can say can be of much
help right now. 

I do feel that at least you know how much Santo and I grieve with you
over Moises. I don't know if you know, or much care, but Rico was
fatally wounded by the same shell which hit Moises. Rico did not die as
quickly as Moises, though he never regained conscious and died at the
evac station in Lassell. I wish Rico had been killed at once too and had
been laid to rest with Moises, Jose, Carlo and Andres and all the others
he had fought with and laughed with, but this had not to be. 

Rico always spoke with such admiration and affection of Moises and I
don't think he ever wished for any other commander. Moises was the kind
of man that they write legends of and so I feel that his marvellous
spirit can never die. He will live on in his troops, going with them to
inspire and encourage them. I heard of the circumstances of Moises
death, unselfishly going to the aid of an isolated squad, looking for
his lost men, and I am sure this will not go unrewarded. If it does I
swear to tear down the houses of parliament myself until it is
rectified.

I am on the verge of rambling now, so will sign off, you do not need
useless prattle from me. But just know how sincerely and deeply Santo
and I grieve for you and how we understand. May the Lord walk by your
side and comfort you and the children. 

Our warmest thoughts

Christina and Santo Banderras 

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