Post by Ignatius on Feb 1, 2008 21:30:45 GMT -5
Bac Thieu
French Indochina
Despite the fall of the French Confederation, Gaullism and the dreams of Gallic Glory have not yet been extinguished from the face of the world. Within the overseas colonies of Gaullist France, the ambitions of countless colonial governors have manifested into plans for independence from the now-defunct "Grand Assembly", with the province of French Indochina being the most powerful and self-dependent bastion of de Gaulle's 'Policies of Grandeur'.
With the guidance of "Prime Minister" Pierre Hautecloque, unity between the Gallic elite and Indochinese natives has been achieved within the confines of the "New French Republic", with much of the French Confederation's naval fleets finding safe and familiar haven under the employ of Hautecloque's governship. The French Foreign Legion itself has managed to become an important tool for this particular Frenchman's plans for grandeur, and has been fighting a furious battle for control over Indochina with the Communist Viet Minh, winning dozens of decisive conflicts within the heart of Indochina.
After several months of hard fighting, the bulk of the Vietminh forces were eventually lured into attacking an isolated French firebase in the vally of Bac Thieu....
==============================================
Hill 249
"Sappers in the wire!"
Responding immediately to the high-pitched cry of the sector sentry keeping lookout, Sergeant Alexander Kersaudy of the 1st Regiment Etrangere Parachutistes (REP) poked his armored head out from the trench he had been taking refuge in and struggled for some time to focus the FAMAS rifle's iron sights on the moving silhouettes of the Viet Minh attackers pouring in from the breach made in 'fort' Bac Thieu's defensive perimeter. A seasoned career soldier who was in the process of serving his second year within the Legion Etrangere (formerly a U.S. Marine Corps), the thirty-two year old had somehow managed to survive his first tour of duty despite being involved in the Algerian, Gulf, and Outremer conflicts; and now faced a new enemy in the guise of the Communist Viet Minh in the jungles of Indochina.
"Open fire!" bellowed Kersaudy in French, firing several bursts of automatic fire from his FAMAS assault rifle.
The Legionnaires of the 1st REP (one paratrooper regiment) had been fighting for the past few days in a desperate attempt to beat off the three Viet Minh divisions that had been drawn into this particular battle, and had done surprisingly well against the hordes of fanatic Communist revolutionaries despite their weakness in numbers. Supplied by air and supported with the full power of the French Provincial Air Force, the 5,000-man strong regiment managed to more or less hold their ground against the enemy offensive, and fought on despite the overwhelming odds.
Vietminh sappers strapped with explosives poured through the wire of the firebase’s perimeter defenses, taking advantage of the low light conditions to sprint towards the foremost French ammunition dump in Bac Theiu. The French Legionnaires, although weary, responded quickly and efficiently to this new threat from the cover of their series of connected trenches and foxholes, bringing as much firepower as they could gather to bear on the marauding enemy. Heavy fire from 7.5mm AA-52 machine guns and smaller Minimi’s could easily be heard over the screams and shouts of the beleaguered Foreign Legionnaires, followed up by the smaller *cracks* of the FAMAS G1 assault rifles’ report.
“Don’t let those bastards reach the ammo dump!” screamed Kersaudy, dropping another enemy sapper to the ground with a burst of FAMAS gunfire, “It’ll blow the fucking east wall to pieces!”
A tremendous explosion cut off the rest of Kersaudy’s chain of thought, blasting pieces of mud, dirt, and debris into the earth while forcing the adjacent legionnaires down to the ground by the power of its explosive force. By some unforeseen act of god’s grace, one of the sappers had managed to circumvent the withering enfilade of fire that the French Legionnaires had laid down, getting into the ammunition dump and blowing it and himself into an unrecognizable mass of smoldering metal, debris, and dirt. As a result, an enormous three-hundred yard gap was blown into the “eastern wall” (a raised earthwork hastily constructed by the 1st REP), nullifying the effect the strands of barbed wire, landmines, and obstacles had on that particular area.
Bugle calls echoed throughout the distance, followed by the loud cheers of the enemy forces and a small barrage of mortar fire on the Legionnaire’s position. Pieces of shrapnel spewed out from the explosive round of an 80mm mortar ripped the face of a legionnaire standing beside Kersaudy to pieces, giving the embattled Legionnaire reason to duck back into his foxhole for cover. Wiping the hot blood and brain tissue that had splattered on his face away, Kersaudy anxiously caught a glance of the attacking Vietminh force charging through Bac Thieu’s breached defenses, and immediately brought the barrel of his FAMAS rifle to a ready upon this sight. Before him, hundreds of Vietminh soldiers decked in full “battle gear” charged through the breach with the bayonets of their AK-47’s glistening in the darkness, reflecting the light of the flames which so littered the battlefield’s charred ground. Advancing in a glorious manner, the horde of Vietnamese revolutionaries let out a terrifying roar of hatred as they charged into the fray, hoisting the red battle flags of their organization proudly into the air as they moved in unison to overwhelm the Legionnaire defenses.
“Peter!” bellowed the Sergeant, firing a single round at the charging mass of Vietminh, “Get the fucking air support on this location now! I don’t give a damn what the Captain says, we need to put as much fire as possible onto this area as quickly as possible!”
Legionnaires, proud soldiers worthy of recognition, fell all around Kersaudy as the communist horde advanced through the war zone, downed by the 7.62mm bullets sprayed by the advancing enemy. Firing wildly into the fray, the French Legionnaire quickly reloaded another 25-round magazine into the action of his weapon as soon as it expended its last round, yanking back the arming lever and firing again into the mass of men. Several legionnaires from a nearby mortar team, knowing full well that there would be no time to lay out shells on the advancing enemy, joined Kersaudy’s platoon in the trenches to defend the area, blasting about wildly with the MAT-49 submachine guns that were issued exclusively to ‘auxiliary’ troops. Despite the ferocious fire laid out by the legionnaire force, the communists pressed on their offensive, wading through the bodies of their comrades in a dogged attempt to renew the offensive. Nothing seemed to stop the waves of men which poured forth through the east wall, and when the enemy reached slightly more than a hundred yards away from Kersaudy’s position, the middle-aged NCO bellowed a chilling order to the Legionnaires fighting alongside him.
“Fix bayonets!” bellowed the Sergeant, yanking the bayonet of his FAMAS from its respective sheath, “Prepare for melee!”
All the men within Kersaudy’s trench obeyed without question to the Sergeant’s rushed order, locking on the blades of their bayonets onto the barrels of the French-made FAMAS rifles within a matter of seconds. By this time, the Vietminh horde were quickly approaching the positions of the Legionnaires, charging up the muddy slope with rifles and blades at the ready. Grenades thrown by Kersaudy’s force blew holes into the formation of the enemy, but did not cause (in any way) the mass of men to falter.
Eighty yards….
Seventy yards…
Fifty Yards…
“Charge!!!!!” bellowed Kersaudy furiously, hurling himself out of the trench in a recklessly courageous manner, “What’s the matter boys, do you bastards really want to live forever?”
Following the Legionnaire NCO, nearly three hundred filthy, lean, and furious French Legionnaires charged downwards into the fray, brandishing their bayonet-equipped weapons in heroic poses unthinkable in real life. In what seemed like an eternity, the two masses of men screamed primitively at each other as they flung themselves into a maelstrom of medieval-esque violence. A sick crash could be audibly heard when the two masses of men collided into each other at breakneck force, with the screams and cries of “stuck” men filling the air soon after. Despite their small size, the Legionnaire force had more or less managed to strike the opposite side with enough force to disrupt the Vietminh’s uphill charge, and were thrusting and slashing with their bayonets in a desperate attempt to stem the flood of enemy into the firebase.
“Thrust, and yank!” cried the Sergeant, cracking the skull of a Vietnamese soldier with the butt of his FAMAS, “Don’t spend too much time on one man!”
After a short period of five minutes, the overwhelming numbers of the Vietminh were beginning to take their toll on the Legionnaires fighting in hand-to-hand combat, with wave after wave of seemingly anonymous enemy soldiers springing up to replace the death of one Vietnamese man. Some of the legionnaires, having broken the blades of their bayonets in the sheer brutality of the moment, resorted to fighting the enemy with knives, shovels, and even helmets; with one man viciously smashing the head of a Vietnamese soldier to pulp with his Kevlar helmet before being run through by an enemy blade thrust.
Kersaudy’s comrades were dropping like flies in the brutal hand-to-hand combat, though Kersaudy himself was still relatively unscathed (save for several superficial knife wounds to the legs and arms) and fighting the flood of enemy. Hurling his FAMAS assault rifle like a spear into the throat of a Vietminh flag-bearer, the French Legionnaire drew an officer-issue SIG P220 pistol from his holster , firing semiautomatic shots into the wall of men before him. Dropping several Vietminh with well-placed shots to the chest, face, and sides, the NCO was nevertheless bowled over by the charge of a Vietminh soldier he had wounded, and was forced down into the brackish mud of Bac Theiu.
Smacking the wounded Vietnamese soldier heavily with his pistol-wielding hand, the French NCO felt his life being squeezed away by the iron-grip of the dying man, and struggled desperately to escape from this precarious position. Two shots, both aimed directly into enemy’s side, effectively ripped a pair of holes into the Vietminh fighter, yet failed to instantly kill the soldier; who continued to squeeze the life out of the legionnaire in his sputtering death throes.
*ka-boom*
A nearby explosion somehow forced the dying man off from Kersaudy’s wounded body, ripping a massive hole into the now-bogged down horde of Vietminh. Turning in amazement towards the source of the saving grace, Kersaudy was both amazed and overjoyed to see a trio of French AMX-30 tanks rumbling loudly up from the hills like avenging valkyries set out to do the terrible will of the gods’, blasting holes into the enemy. Heavy .50 caliber machine gun bullets gunned down dozens of Vietnamese with its amazing sustained fire capabilities, causing the enemy to temporarily falter in their assault on Hill 249. Watching in wonder, the French Legionnaire witnessed the terrible slaughter the trio of battle tanks wreaked upon the unwelcome visitors to Bac Theiu, and privately prayed a prayer of thanks to the gods of war for his luck.
Roars of jet engines quickly followed, with the lethal power of squadron after squadron of carrier-borne Dassault-Breguet Super Etendards manifesting itself in several hundred pounds of napalm and high-explosive ordinance raining down on the massed enemy, ripping countless bodies into pieces. Taking advantage of the moment to order what surviving Legionnaires were present to take cover, Kersaudy wasted no time in sprinting for the nearest hole he could find.
While the battle was far from over, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who exactly won the battle of Bac Theiu.. The Vietminh, in their desperate attempt to overwhelm a (presumed) French Army at the Bac Theiu Valley had unwittingly fallen for a deliberate trap set by the French Military Command in Indochina, and had instead lost a majority of their forces fighting a conventional battle against a prepared and well-supported, albeit smaller, French force.
There was only one force that truly controlled Indochina now…..
French Indochina
Despite the fall of the French Confederation, Gaullism and the dreams of Gallic Glory have not yet been extinguished from the face of the world. Within the overseas colonies of Gaullist France, the ambitions of countless colonial governors have manifested into plans for independence from the now-defunct "Grand Assembly", with the province of French Indochina being the most powerful and self-dependent bastion of de Gaulle's 'Policies of Grandeur'.
With the guidance of "Prime Minister" Pierre Hautecloque, unity between the Gallic elite and Indochinese natives has been achieved within the confines of the "New French Republic", with much of the French Confederation's naval fleets finding safe and familiar haven under the employ of Hautecloque's governship. The French Foreign Legion itself has managed to become an important tool for this particular Frenchman's plans for grandeur, and has been fighting a furious battle for control over Indochina with the Communist Viet Minh, winning dozens of decisive conflicts within the heart of Indochina.
After several months of hard fighting, the bulk of the Vietminh forces were eventually lured into attacking an isolated French firebase in the vally of Bac Thieu....
==============================================
Hill 249
"Sappers in the wire!"
Responding immediately to the high-pitched cry of the sector sentry keeping lookout, Sergeant Alexander Kersaudy of the 1st Regiment Etrangere Parachutistes (REP) poked his armored head out from the trench he had been taking refuge in and struggled for some time to focus the FAMAS rifle's iron sights on the moving silhouettes of the Viet Minh attackers pouring in from the breach made in 'fort' Bac Thieu's defensive perimeter. A seasoned career soldier who was in the process of serving his second year within the Legion Etrangere (formerly a U.S. Marine Corps), the thirty-two year old had somehow managed to survive his first tour of duty despite being involved in the Algerian, Gulf, and Outremer conflicts; and now faced a new enemy in the guise of the Communist Viet Minh in the jungles of Indochina.
"Open fire!" bellowed Kersaudy in French, firing several bursts of automatic fire from his FAMAS assault rifle.
The Legionnaires of the 1st REP (one paratrooper regiment) had been fighting for the past few days in a desperate attempt to beat off the three Viet Minh divisions that had been drawn into this particular battle, and had done surprisingly well against the hordes of fanatic Communist revolutionaries despite their weakness in numbers. Supplied by air and supported with the full power of the French Provincial Air Force, the 5,000-man strong regiment managed to more or less hold their ground against the enemy offensive, and fought on despite the overwhelming odds.
Vietminh sappers strapped with explosives poured through the wire of the firebase’s perimeter defenses, taking advantage of the low light conditions to sprint towards the foremost French ammunition dump in Bac Theiu. The French Legionnaires, although weary, responded quickly and efficiently to this new threat from the cover of their series of connected trenches and foxholes, bringing as much firepower as they could gather to bear on the marauding enemy. Heavy fire from 7.5mm AA-52 machine guns and smaller Minimi’s could easily be heard over the screams and shouts of the beleaguered Foreign Legionnaires, followed up by the smaller *cracks* of the FAMAS G1 assault rifles’ report.
“Don’t let those bastards reach the ammo dump!” screamed Kersaudy, dropping another enemy sapper to the ground with a burst of FAMAS gunfire, “It’ll blow the fucking east wall to pieces!”
A tremendous explosion cut off the rest of Kersaudy’s chain of thought, blasting pieces of mud, dirt, and debris into the earth while forcing the adjacent legionnaires down to the ground by the power of its explosive force. By some unforeseen act of god’s grace, one of the sappers had managed to circumvent the withering enfilade of fire that the French Legionnaires had laid down, getting into the ammunition dump and blowing it and himself into an unrecognizable mass of smoldering metal, debris, and dirt. As a result, an enormous three-hundred yard gap was blown into the “eastern wall” (a raised earthwork hastily constructed by the 1st REP), nullifying the effect the strands of barbed wire, landmines, and obstacles had on that particular area.
Bugle calls echoed throughout the distance, followed by the loud cheers of the enemy forces and a small barrage of mortar fire on the Legionnaire’s position. Pieces of shrapnel spewed out from the explosive round of an 80mm mortar ripped the face of a legionnaire standing beside Kersaudy to pieces, giving the embattled Legionnaire reason to duck back into his foxhole for cover. Wiping the hot blood and brain tissue that had splattered on his face away, Kersaudy anxiously caught a glance of the attacking Vietminh force charging through Bac Thieu’s breached defenses, and immediately brought the barrel of his FAMAS rifle to a ready upon this sight. Before him, hundreds of Vietminh soldiers decked in full “battle gear” charged through the breach with the bayonets of their AK-47’s glistening in the darkness, reflecting the light of the flames which so littered the battlefield’s charred ground. Advancing in a glorious manner, the horde of Vietnamese revolutionaries let out a terrifying roar of hatred as they charged into the fray, hoisting the red battle flags of their organization proudly into the air as they moved in unison to overwhelm the Legionnaire defenses.
“Peter!” bellowed the Sergeant, firing a single round at the charging mass of Vietminh, “Get the fucking air support on this location now! I don’t give a damn what the Captain says, we need to put as much fire as possible onto this area as quickly as possible!”
Legionnaires, proud soldiers worthy of recognition, fell all around Kersaudy as the communist horde advanced through the war zone, downed by the 7.62mm bullets sprayed by the advancing enemy. Firing wildly into the fray, the French Legionnaire quickly reloaded another 25-round magazine into the action of his weapon as soon as it expended its last round, yanking back the arming lever and firing again into the mass of men. Several legionnaires from a nearby mortar team, knowing full well that there would be no time to lay out shells on the advancing enemy, joined Kersaudy’s platoon in the trenches to defend the area, blasting about wildly with the MAT-49 submachine guns that were issued exclusively to ‘auxiliary’ troops. Despite the ferocious fire laid out by the legionnaire force, the communists pressed on their offensive, wading through the bodies of their comrades in a dogged attempt to renew the offensive. Nothing seemed to stop the waves of men which poured forth through the east wall, and when the enemy reached slightly more than a hundred yards away from Kersaudy’s position, the middle-aged NCO bellowed a chilling order to the Legionnaires fighting alongside him.
“Fix bayonets!” bellowed the Sergeant, yanking the bayonet of his FAMAS from its respective sheath, “Prepare for melee!”
All the men within Kersaudy’s trench obeyed without question to the Sergeant’s rushed order, locking on the blades of their bayonets onto the barrels of the French-made FAMAS rifles within a matter of seconds. By this time, the Vietminh horde were quickly approaching the positions of the Legionnaires, charging up the muddy slope with rifles and blades at the ready. Grenades thrown by Kersaudy’s force blew holes into the formation of the enemy, but did not cause (in any way) the mass of men to falter.
Eighty yards….
Seventy yards…
Fifty Yards…
“Charge!!!!!” bellowed Kersaudy furiously, hurling himself out of the trench in a recklessly courageous manner, “What’s the matter boys, do you bastards really want to live forever?”
Following the Legionnaire NCO, nearly three hundred filthy, lean, and furious French Legionnaires charged downwards into the fray, brandishing their bayonet-equipped weapons in heroic poses unthinkable in real life. In what seemed like an eternity, the two masses of men screamed primitively at each other as they flung themselves into a maelstrom of medieval-esque violence. A sick crash could be audibly heard when the two masses of men collided into each other at breakneck force, with the screams and cries of “stuck” men filling the air soon after. Despite their small size, the Legionnaire force had more or less managed to strike the opposite side with enough force to disrupt the Vietminh’s uphill charge, and were thrusting and slashing with their bayonets in a desperate attempt to stem the flood of enemy into the firebase.
“Thrust, and yank!” cried the Sergeant, cracking the skull of a Vietnamese soldier with the butt of his FAMAS, “Don’t spend too much time on one man!”
After a short period of five minutes, the overwhelming numbers of the Vietminh were beginning to take their toll on the Legionnaires fighting in hand-to-hand combat, with wave after wave of seemingly anonymous enemy soldiers springing up to replace the death of one Vietnamese man. Some of the legionnaires, having broken the blades of their bayonets in the sheer brutality of the moment, resorted to fighting the enemy with knives, shovels, and even helmets; with one man viciously smashing the head of a Vietnamese soldier to pulp with his Kevlar helmet before being run through by an enemy blade thrust.
Kersaudy’s comrades were dropping like flies in the brutal hand-to-hand combat, though Kersaudy himself was still relatively unscathed (save for several superficial knife wounds to the legs and arms) and fighting the flood of enemy. Hurling his FAMAS assault rifle like a spear into the throat of a Vietminh flag-bearer, the French Legionnaire drew an officer-issue SIG P220 pistol from his holster , firing semiautomatic shots into the wall of men before him. Dropping several Vietminh with well-placed shots to the chest, face, and sides, the NCO was nevertheless bowled over by the charge of a Vietminh soldier he had wounded, and was forced down into the brackish mud of Bac Theiu.
Smacking the wounded Vietnamese soldier heavily with his pistol-wielding hand, the French NCO felt his life being squeezed away by the iron-grip of the dying man, and struggled desperately to escape from this precarious position. Two shots, both aimed directly into enemy’s side, effectively ripped a pair of holes into the Vietminh fighter, yet failed to instantly kill the soldier; who continued to squeeze the life out of the legionnaire in his sputtering death throes.
*ka-boom*
A nearby explosion somehow forced the dying man off from Kersaudy’s wounded body, ripping a massive hole into the now-bogged down horde of Vietminh. Turning in amazement towards the source of the saving grace, Kersaudy was both amazed and overjoyed to see a trio of French AMX-30 tanks rumbling loudly up from the hills like avenging valkyries set out to do the terrible will of the gods’, blasting holes into the enemy. Heavy .50 caliber machine gun bullets gunned down dozens of Vietnamese with its amazing sustained fire capabilities, causing the enemy to temporarily falter in their assault on Hill 249. Watching in wonder, the French Legionnaire witnessed the terrible slaughter the trio of battle tanks wreaked upon the unwelcome visitors to Bac Theiu, and privately prayed a prayer of thanks to the gods of war for his luck.
Roars of jet engines quickly followed, with the lethal power of squadron after squadron of carrier-borne Dassault-Breguet Super Etendards manifesting itself in several hundred pounds of napalm and high-explosive ordinance raining down on the massed enemy, ripping countless bodies into pieces. Taking advantage of the moment to order what surviving Legionnaires were present to take cover, Kersaudy wasted no time in sprinting for the nearest hole he could find.
While the battle was far from over, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who exactly won the battle of Bac Theiu.. The Vietminh, in their desperate attempt to overwhelm a (presumed) French Army at the Bac Theiu Valley had unwittingly fallen for a deliberate trap set by the French Military Command in Indochina, and had instead lost a majority of their forces fighting a conventional battle against a prepared and well-supported, albeit smaller, French force.
There was only one force that truly controlled Indochina now…..
