[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.

> [quoted text omitted]

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

> [quoted text omitted]

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

> [quoted text omitted]

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

> [quoted text omitted]

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