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Message:: [QUOTE="AshesOfEden, post: 1835, member: 1253308829"]Present Day. “Look look! Go back.. there’s the swamp Titan!”.. Mikkel’s nephew exclaimed in Danish. The nephew swiped the tablet on the game he was showing Mikkel and a swamp landscape appeared on the screen. In it, was a large hulking monster figure gently rocking and swaying and occasionally swinging its large club at the tiny figures below. A town burns close by on the edge of the swamp on the screen. A massive 100mm AP shell streaked by Mikkel and he was close enough to feel its blast wave in his bones. “Fell it uncle... Fell the Titan!”.. his nephew’s voice became a distant echo, lost in the wisps of fog and smoke... and fragmented memories from a fragmented war in a fragmented country long ago, came rushing back to him.. he thought of Vilmar, Jorgen and Asger and their crews. and of the Titans.. Tears of sorrow and enormous gratitude streamed slowly from Mikkel’s face on to the tablet screen. ——————————————— Bosnia. 1994. “Stopping for a terrain check. Over” Asger’s voice crackled over the radio and Mikkel commanded the driver of his Pbv 302 armoured personnel carrier to a stop close to the leading Leopard tank of the Danish Jydske Dragon Regiment, assigned to the UNPROFOR’s Nordic Battalion, in support of UNHCR’s humanitarian mission to bring food, supplies and medicine to this nightmare landscape of combat devastation that Europe hadn’t seen since the World War II. “Glorified Food delivery trucks.. that’s what we are” Mikkel joked to the gunner behind the 20mm cannon. “...and Mines”.. the gunner nervously muttered and nodded a derisive chin towards the German mine engineer whose head was poking out from the back of the armoured personnel carrier. “Don’t worry friends! They are all disarmed!” The German sergeant, assigned to the auxiliary mission of clearing mines, overhearing the conversation, shouted with a thick German accent. Mikkel shook his head slightly and dismounted from the APC and walked towards the lead Leopard tank. The commanders of the second APC and the second tank, Vilmar and Jorgen, were with Asger, pouring over a map. “The GPS not working today?” Mikkel quipped with unease. “Look at the skies Mikkel, this new technology doesn’t work too well when it’s so damn cloudy and foggy”.. Asger replied back with a cool gaze behind his grey eyes.. “You know what that also means”.. the second tank commander Jorgen chimes in.. He continued. “That means our American fly boys won’t be covering our butts” “Swamp here.. swamp there..” Asger’s fingers traced the contour lines of the map as he glanced up and down from the map to the terrain surrounding them. “And 10 clicks ahead is our village.. it’s a hostile area.. well the whole country is hostile.. so Leopard 2 will cover our rear as we go into town” Asger finished “..And you cover our ancient food delivery wagons with your spear of god.. ya?” Mikkel mused. Asger, knowing Mikkel made reference to his name, spread a thin smile, gently tapped the rifled main gun as he hopped onto the turret and replied. “All 105 millimeters of it brother..” A spotter watched the convoy depart through his binoculars and relayed a coded message through the cold autumn air. “2 Pbv 302’s, 2 Leopards, Danes, heading towards Beslici. ETA 30 mins” ——————————————— The Lead Commander watched the Wolfpack through his binoculars. Magnificent predators he thought.. He then gazed up at the cold cloudy skies and the thin fog with a smile. No air cover. “This night..wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, ...And bids what will take all...” A passage from King Lear softly flowed through his lips.. The commander was a Soviet trained veteran that had endured the silent rage of the Cold War and now had been turned loose to unleash the fury in the countryside of the fragmented land that the Soviets had abandoned and the civility of the West had not taken its hold yet. Now he had a special addition to his arsenal of the armoured fist. The Yugoslav JNA had “loaned” him a M-84 tank. These Russian T-72 variants are vastly superior to his T-55’s but more importantly, it’s 125mm smoothbore cannon can outgun the Leopard tanks of the UN forces deployed to get in their way. He huddled with the commanders of the 4 T-55’s in his platoon and unfurled the map. “Beslici.. roads in from three directions.. swamp to the west..” “Kilo 2 and 3 approach from the South. Kilo 4 and 5 from the South-East.. I will ambush them from the North road that they came in..” the lead commander paused.. “Do not engage the Leopards directly.. your guns are no match for the Danes.. just flush them out..” “The tin cans are fair game though..correct sir?” One of the commanders piped up.. referring to the armoured personnel carriers with bloodthirst.. “Fair game Gentlemen.. and if the Leopards give you their flanks, roast them..” The commanders boarded their respective tanks, started their engines.. ..and the five Steel Titans of the Drina Wolves armoured regiment of the Vojska Republike Srpske army roared to life.. And headed towards their prey. ———————————————[/QUOTE]