The Sniper
March 14th 1921FD
I was Senior Corporal Otto Augen. I was part of the 1st Heavy Sniper Division. We were considered Spezial-Truppen -or- "Special Forces". We were divided into teams of two men. One man served as the shooter and the other was there to designate and spot targets, as well as aiding in correcting shots. My spotter had bought the farm back in Avinoit. He had taken a round in the face. A lot of people don't really understand what a .308 does to a humanoid skull. There was a small entry wound in his forehead, but the back of the head? That was a yawning maw of splintered bone and grey matter. You can have all the marks on your stock in the world, but as soon as you see the brain of your best friend splattered across the wall, you don't truly know death. I snapped at that point. I had to be sent to a field hospital and then was given two weeks of leave in Karhlsberg near the border. There I relived the moment where he died regularly. This hardened my resolve to fight the enemy. Once my two weeks was up, I was finally allowed a rifle again. This time they gave me the Scharfschütze-Gewehr M20. The rifle was a beast. It fired the massive 13mm round. They told me it would be perfect for punching through powered armour, and even lightly armoured drudges and vehicles. Its effective range was 1,800 meters.
The first time I fired the thing I thought my shoulder would be blown out of it's socket. The rubber pad on the stock helped, but man it kicked. I shot at least forty rounds a day, learning about the rifle, and how it behaved. Then I got my orders to report to 16th Division HQ in Colocourt.
When the autogyro landed near the HQ, it was immediately fired upon by hidden shooters. I leapt from it and took cover. The adrenaline filed my blood and I was given the familiar high. I couldn't help but smile as the bullets cracked over my head. The door gunners sprayed the buildings, and the firing stopped. I poked my head up, and it seemed as if the snipers had either retreated or had decided against poking their heads up. I headed to Division HQ and met with Major General Henrich Weschler. I entered the bunker and stood at attention, my rifle bag and kit slung over my shoulder. I saluted as the General addressed me.
"Senior Corporal Otto Augen Reporting as ordered," I recited.
"Ah good! Our angel has arrived!" said the general, "At ease Corporal" I relaxed.
"Your mission is simple," he continued, "You will be operating rather autonomously." I reached into my breast pocket and pulled a cigarette out. The general gave me a light. "If you don't mind me asking, what do you mean by autonomously?"
The general smiled. "You will be hunting the snipers and resistance fighters that keep harassing
our troops. I'm sure they shot at you when you landed."
"Yeah they did," I said, blowing smoke into the air.
"They have killed twenty men in the past week and wounded sixty."
"Fuck," I swore under my breath.
"You need to help us deal with the problem. You will be serving as our eyes and weapon in this sector."
"Yes Sir."
"I will leave you to your devices. However, I would like a report every week, assuming the battle lasts that long. You also have authorization to kill anyone out after 2000 hours, thats the curfew."
"Where are the areas of most activity?" I asked. The general moved over to a
map of the city. Wooden blocks with unit designations were positioned on the map. He pointed out several locations which I marked down on the map I was issued.
"Thank you sir."
"History has always demonstrated that battles are won or lost, depending on commander's information," quoted the general, "Fán Jù-Līang."
"Sir, May I have access to the armory? They didn't give me something suitable for buildings."
"Of course. You are dismissed," the general saluted. I snapped to attention and returned the salute. The general dropped his hand and I turned on my heel and headed to the armory.
I collected a submachine gun from the armory before setting out into the blasted city. I slipped into an alley and let my kit slide off my shoulder and drop to the cobblestones. I opened by rucksack and withdrew my camouflage smock. The fabric was printed with specialized urban camouflage. I pulled it over my tunic and pulled my kit back on. I moved towards one of the hotspots General Weschler had pointed out. My head was on a constant swivel, cautiously watching as many windows as I could. I could hear the battle raging to the east; the crackling of rifle fire, the deep drumming of artillery and the rapid chatter of machine-guns.
The sky was dark grey, and it looked like it was going to rain during the night. I discovered a partially bombed out apartment building with beautiful sight lines to the streets below. I headed up to the fifth floor and decided to make this my post for the night. There was a dusty couch, where I set my equipment. Choosing to sit in the corner away from the windows I lit a cigarette and began to assemble my rifle. I could have assembled it back at HQ but wandering a hostile city with a scoped rifle was a giant signal to anyone. I had my supper out of a can, and took my position. There was a blown out section of a wall where I would have cover from the elements and would be able to rest the heavy rifle on my rucksack. There I waited.
It did start to rain shortly after I took up my position. It started as a drizzle but soon became a torrent. I was thankful for the roof. The hours ticked by as I waited. I was wondered if I had picked a non-active spot. I was just about to gather my gear and reposition when I spotted movement in the shadows. I shouldered my rifle and peered down the scope. I watched the alley where I thought I had seen motion. An orange tabby shot out from the shadows and across the street. Something must have spooked it. I considered the possibility that it was a stray. I didn't have long before I spotted another shape. I watched patiently.
Sure enough, a human form appeared around the corner. It looked like they were carrying a satchel of some kind. I put my finger in the trigger guard and placed the sight on it's chest. Once I was ready I gently squeezed the trigger. The recoil hit me as I watched the round tear the person's arm off. I must have ruptured his heart as he didn't scream. Stupid son of a bitch, I thought cycling the bolt. I waited a moment before moving, waiting for returned fire. But there was nothing. The streets were back to the pitter patter of raindrops. I repositioned to a window, and sat in a chair, resting the rifle on the windowsill. Again, I waited. But nothing else happened. I bedded down around 0300hrs and let the rain lullaby me off to sleep, cradling the SMG
The next day I was awoken by the thumps of artillery. The rain was still an incessant torrent. I had my breakfast and packed up my kit. I left the apartment and headed across the street. The body was of an elf woman. Her arm had landed about a meter away. She was a pretty thing. Her silvery hair was stained with blood and her golden eyes stared up into the rain. I checked her bag and found a collection of stick grenades and an S-mine. Those were incredibly deadly. They would be triggered, and then would fling themselves into the air before exploding and throwing little metal balls all around it. The bitch was probably planning to plant the mine somewhere, where some Tannenholtz soldier would get killed. I kept the satchel, perhaps they would come in handy. I reached into her pockets and found a wallet. I opened it, retrieved the cash and tossed it aside. I left her there on the sidewalk, I didn't have time to think about her deadpan expression, I had other things to worry about.
The next night was relatively quiet. The battle still raged, and the flashes of explosions illuminated the clouds. I had found a cozy little attic to bunk in and shelter from the rain. I had rested my rifle on a dormer window sill. When nothing appeared by 0200hrs I decided to call it a night. I slept well that night, There was an rusted bed with a old mattress. It was more comfortable than the floorboards.
I dreamt of Avinoit. I was back on the catwalks of the factory. Vartan was laying next to me. Normally demi-humans weren't allowed in human units, but snipers favour sharp eye sight and hearing, so exceptions were made. A squad of Azoran Heavy Infantry were coming up the street to deal with us, as we had kept the nest for a while. I killed one of them, sending the rest to cover. Whenthey returned fire, the bricks exploded all around us. I turned to Vartan to tell him that we were bugging out, and that was when I saw the back of his head, blow out across the wall.
I jolted awake. My hands were shaking as I lit a cigarette. I let the smoke stream from my nose. I wiped tears from my eyes as I swallowed a sob. I repressed the dream and gathered my equipment, and got ready to move. I found my way into a formerly expensive hotel. The architecture was made up of sleek curves and rounded edges. The staircase had gilded bannisters and dark wood steps. There was a hole in the lobby ceiling which rain poured through, and many of the windows had been blown out. The lobby furniture was similarly destroyed. I walked past all of this and continued up the gaudy staircase. I made my way upwards. I found a suite with a balcony overlooking the streets. I decided that this vantage point would be perfect. I surveyed the cityscape below through the curtains, and lit a cigarette. The streets were mostly empty but there were a handful of people moving about. I could see a mother walking with two children. There was a dwarf carrying groceries. I was impressed that a grocers was still open.
The rain dissipated as night fell. I took up my position on the balcony resting my rifle on my pack. I watched a halftrack roll through the intersection nearby, with a squad of troops walking along side. I could easily make out the Tannenholtz Eagle on it's hull. It's headlights illuminated the ruins and cast eerie shadows. I thought I saw something as the headlights. I peered down my scope searching the area. I figured it was an optical illusion. There was a boom followed by a whistle. The halftrack's engines sputtered and the engine caught light. There was a burst of a submachine gun and a pair of the soldiers dropped, screaming. I watched the muzzle flashes, and used them to aid my search for the resistance fighters. I spotted one, an orc firing a light machine-gun. I squeezed the trigger as the orcs head vanished in a mist of red. I cycled the bolt. I found another. This time it was a dwarf woman with orange hair. She dodged among the ruins. I waited for her to show herself. I saw her duck behind a wall. I guessed where she was and fired. A hole appeared in the wall and I watched as the body fell to the right. I cycled the bolt again. I spotted another, fired. He fell. Again I had another in my sight, the elf got torn in half by the 13mm bullet. There was another boom and a whistle. The building next to me exploded in a shower of rubble. I scanned the ruins in front of me searching for the source of the shell. I found the light howitzer inserted in a dark alley. I focused and fired. The bullet easily penetrated the gun shield. I cycled the bolt and quickly fired again. This time it ricocheted. I saw the gun traverse. I swore under my breath. I pulled myself of the floor and sprinted towards the hallway. I was too late, I heard the boom of the gun firing. There was an explosion, and I was flung against the corridor wall. My ears were ringing as I fell unconscious. That was the last thing I remembered. I died in that ruined hotel corridor in Colocourt, Azora Republic; March 17th 1921 FD.
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