Post by Silvan Marcussen D'Alisa on Jul 16, 2010 4:32:28 GMT
Mappy Map
Libya had fallen; Sicily had fallen; and now foreign boots were desecrating the soil of Italia herself. The New Roman Empire was in collapse, though the proud Italian officer would never admit such. D'Alisa considered every step taken by the enemy on his home soil as a personal affront to his honour. He would use every means available to turn back the ever growing tide bearing down on his countrymen.
To that end, he now sat in a freshly dug trench atop a small hill in a small town outside of Nocera dei Pagani. His orders were to have his company dig in and hold out against the invasion force for as long as possible while more forces were marshaled together for a strike to the beachheads. This infuriated Silvan.
He had been there in Algeria when the enemy had invaded the African continent. Both the Germans and his fellow Italians had failed to repulse the initial landings and, after a long and brutal fight, the continent succumbed to invaders. He had been on the island of Sicily when the united enemies for Italy had invaded. Again, Italy and her allies had failed to repel the initial landings and the island fell. Why would this time be any different?
What was needed was an all out, unrelenting assault on the beach heads to drive the devils back into the sea. Or hell. Both destinations were equally acceptable.
But, D'Alisa was a man of honour and tradition. He would not disobey his orders. He would fight to hold the town and by extension his entire country with every scrap of wit and valour he could scrape up. Too many had died already for this effort to end in failure. It was unacceptable. It was that simple for Silvan. He would not loose this war because he would not allow it.
***
Silvan always found a bit of morose humor that he and his fellow paracadutisti spent an over whelming majority of their time in trenches, beneath the surface of the earth, rather than in the air above it. Then again, there weren't many left in his unit that had ever made a jump. Most of those who had, had perished at El Alamein. Instead of those men, rather green replacements now filled most of his ranks. Not that they were of lesser quality than their predecessors, but experienced soldiers were what the home land desperately needed now.
The Italian officer peered out over the town in front of him. It was quiet now since most of the residents had evacuated the area with the approach of the invading armies. The eerie silence of deserted towns had little effect of Silvan anymore. Sicily had taught him that any sentimentality over protected the property of his country, while noble, was a costly and naive endeavor. So he had no qualms about carving up the picturesque country side, marring it's beauty with trenches and other defensive blights. A little damage now for the pride of the nation was worth the cost.
Nonetheless, the breathtaking beauty that unfolded around him and through his binoculars was quite striking. The rolling green hills; the quaint little towns; This is what he and his men were fighting for. It wasn't some abstract ideal; it wasn't for conquest of some far away territory; it was for their beautiful homeland. What did these foreigners fight for?
The immediate surroundings weren't all that beautiful any more though. There were a series of trenches dug on the western side of town. The main line, already completed was more to the north. It consisted of one zig-zaged trench up front connect by a smaller trench to a pit dug into the top of another hill behind the main trench. The second hill was suppose to have been for a flak gun or some mortars but supply was short and neither had arrived or even the request approved.
To the south was another, smaller trench system. It consisted of two trenches dug into the hill at different elevations connected by a much thinner trench running up the slope. This one hadn't been completed just yet and thus wasn't occupied by the Italians.
Silvan was confident. His men were confident. The enemy was not able to break their lines at El Alamein and they wouldn't break through here either.
Libya had fallen; Sicily had fallen; and now foreign boots were desecrating the soil of Italia herself. The New Roman Empire was in collapse, though the proud Italian officer would never admit such. D'Alisa considered every step taken by the enemy on his home soil as a personal affront to his honour. He would use every means available to turn back the ever growing tide bearing down on his countrymen.
To that end, he now sat in a freshly dug trench atop a small hill in a small town outside of Nocera dei Pagani. His orders were to have his company dig in and hold out against the invasion force for as long as possible while more forces were marshaled together for a strike to the beachheads. This infuriated Silvan.
He had been there in Algeria when the enemy had invaded the African continent. Both the Germans and his fellow Italians had failed to repulse the initial landings and, after a long and brutal fight, the continent succumbed to invaders. He had been on the island of Sicily when the united enemies for Italy had invaded. Again, Italy and her allies had failed to repel the initial landings and the island fell. Why would this time be any different?
What was needed was an all out, unrelenting assault on the beach heads to drive the devils back into the sea. Or hell. Both destinations were equally acceptable.
But, D'Alisa was a man of honour and tradition. He would not disobey his orders. He would fight to hold the town and by extension his entire country with every scrap of wit and valour he could scrape up. Too many had died already for this effort to end in failure. It was unacceptable. It was that simple for Silvan. He would not loose this war because he would not allow it.
***
Silvan always found a bit of morose humor that he and his fellow paracadutisti spent an over whelming majority of their time in trenches, beneath the surface of the earth, rather than in the air above it. Then again, there weren't many left in his unit that had ever made a jump. Most of those who had, had perished at El Alamein. Instead of those men, rather green replacements now filled most of his ranks. Not that they were of lesser quality than their predecessors, but experienced soldiers were what the home land desperately needed now.
The Italian officer peered out over the town in front of him. It was quiet now since most of the residents had evacuated the area with the approach of the invading armies. The eerie silence of deserted towns had little effect of Silvan anymore. Sicily had taught him that any sentimentality over protected the property of his country, while noble, was a costly and naive endeavor. So he had no qualms about carving up the picturesque country side, marring it's beauty with trenches and other defensive blights. A little damage now for the pride of the nation was worth the cost.
Nonetheless, the breathtaking beauty that unfolded around him and through his binoculars was quite striking. The rolling green hills; the quaint little towns; This is what he and his men were fighting for. It wasn't some abstract ideal; it wasn't for conquest of some far away territory; it was for their beautiful homeland. What did these foreigners fight for?
The immediate surroundings weren't all that beautiful any more though. There were a series of trenches dug on the western side of town. The main line, already completed was more to the north. It consisted of one zig-zaged trench up front connect by a smaller trench to a pit dug into the top of another hill behind the main trench. The second hill was suppose to have been for a flak gun or some mortars but supply was short and neither had arrived or even the request approved.
To the south was another, smaller trench system. It consisted of two trenches dug into the hill at different elevations connected by a much thinner trench running up the slope. This one hadn't been completed just yet and thus wasn't occupied by the Italians.
Silvan was confident. His men were confident. The enemy was not able to break their lines at El Alamein and they wouldn't break through here either.
