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A New Kind of Warfare (standard:fantasy, 3140 words)
Author: Daniel ChanceAdded: Jul 28 2008Views/Reads: 1646/999Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
In a world where the fourth world war is raging, one man takes it upon himself to defend his town during an invasion...

"Men! Fix bayonets!". yelled sergeant William York over the roar and
whistle of gunfire and artillery. His men clipped their bayonets onto 
their guns in perfect unison. They were fighting in the trenches of 
Russia. York was preparing his troops for a charge against the Neo 
Powers, their enemy. The artillery stopped. 

"Now!" The sergeant led his men over the side of the trench. They
marched over the rubble of bodies, wire, wood, and other things. Gun 
shots rang out, and men started falling around York. "Grenades!", he 
ordered. Several green dots flew into the trenches ahead. Seconds 
later, a series of explosions went off, rocking the ground and sending 
bodies flying out of the trenches ahead. "Corporals McKinley, and 
Lewis, take your men left flank. Carpenter, Price, right flank." 

They flooded into the trench and split up. York went to the nearest flag
post, pulled sown the big black "X" and replaced it with the flag of 
the Iron Fist. He was just in time, army bombers were flying overhead, 
ready to clean out the trenches. "Mission accomplished, sir!", said 
Lewis. "Good, this was the last place we needed to get, we can expect 
to go home soon." -later- York was the last one to enter the troop 
carrier before it was sling-shotted off of the zeppelin. He sat down 
and prepared to talk to his platoon. "I understand that this has been 
probably the longest and most horrifying two months of your life. But, 
we got through. We are now going home, and our Fuhrer himself, Pierre 
D' Lafayette, has given his personal praise for pushing through 

The plane was now flying over their town of residence. They all looked
out of the windows to see the familiar sights. "Welcome home boys.", 
said the pilot. York could not help smiling at the sights. He saw 
historic main street with it's mansions, the airport, the shipping 
port, the tram lines, station, and best of all, he saw his home on the 
shore of the bay, which led out into the ocean. 

"Troop carrier, Clay Pigeon, in airspace, requesting permission to
land.", reported the pilot. "Troop carrier, Clay Pigeon, permission to 
land, runway 9l.", replied the radio. "Acknowledged.", said the pilot. 
He flipped a switch, and the flaps on the wings rose up to slow the 
glider. Then he turned a crank, and the landing gear lowered. 

The plane was gradually lowering itself to the ground The soldiers could
not get to the ground soon enough. Now the runway took up the whole of 
the windshield in the cockpit. Thump! went the wheels hitting the 

The plane slowed, stopped, and trucks escorted it to parking. York
opened the side door and waited till the last person was down from the 
plane. The men had all met up with their wives. York noticed a military 
jeep parked just beyond the fence border. 

He walked up to the fence. He noticed his fellow sergeant, and friend,
Jacob Steed. Steed honked on the horn. "Come on, the General wants to 
see you!" York unlatched the fence, and got into the jeep. 

"We just got the news of the victory in Russia. Brigadier general wants
to congratulate you, and so I just had to make sure it was I who picked 
you up.", said Steed. "Yes, it took us two months, but we claimed all 
of the trenches.", said York. "Great job, William, I also heard that 
the Fuhrer personally congratulated you.", said Steed. 

"You heard right, I was taken completely by surprise.", said York. They
were ascending onto the speedway to th metropolitan area. "How is 
Mary?" Steed shifted gears. "Great, she has something planned for you 
when you get home.", he said. "I wonder what.", he continued, in a 
jokingly way. York punched his arm. 

The jeep pulled up to the military headquarters. "Good luck, I won't be
able to take you home, so here is my pass for the tram.", said Steed. 
He handed York his card. "I may, however, see you again today." 

"Come in York.", called Brigadier General Wayne Gun. York entered ans
saluted. "At ease, sit down." York took a seat in front of the ornate 
cherry wood desk. Gun was an odd figure. His hair was spiked (odd for a 
general), a black oddly shaped tattoo under his left eye., there was a 
necklace of beads and a lead cross around his neck, his torso clothing 

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