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  1. GBW- CP5 - EROTEMA – Behind Enemy Lines 4/8 Blindspot The action hereby depicted takes place at the same time than episode 3/8 (Captain Gennaro). Grid E8 After the last events, the situation with Xenor has gone worse and worse… The Filace Ambassador declared that he would not allow the RON to use Xenor territory or airspace to carry out attacks on the COAC. This implied the dispatching of a pair of jets to gather information on RON forces in Xenor, but they were shot down by Xenor Harriers on grid E8 (Studica). The pilots had to be rescued, and air cover for the operation was necessary, so a retaliation air operation was launched. This operation will involve a Filace (The Beeze) SpecOps unit to destroy an enemy airbase, an Erotema attack plane as well as a Filace sniper team (Captain Genaro) to destroy a Xenor SAM site; the sniper team will be extracted by New Brickika forces (Spud The Viking). XENOR sam site by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr XENOR sam site by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Xenor has many SAM sites in the borders with the neighbouring countries, and this one can pose a threat to the rescue operation to bring the COAC pilots home. This one is located on a top on the mountains, with a small lake with ice plates on the surface. spying on the cows by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr What is this soldier doing? Spying on the cows? Going to milk a cow by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Yes! Xenor cows are famous for its enormous size and extra smooth taste milk. However, there are rumors about their feeding and fattening. But, who cares about rumors? What can be better than fresh milk for breakfast? Meanwhile, a Picarón Mk2 CAS plane is on its way flying below the radar. Captain Cabra on command, with 6 235-kg LGB, 6 AT missiles, 2 AAM and 4 12,70-mm machine guns. This Mk2 is an upgrade on Mk1 (previously seen at “The Death Corner”). Strange noise by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Suddenly, a noise is heard. Not a “normal” noise (the cows, the ice melting…). It is the noise of an impact, maybe coming from a sniper rifle, and he receives a message from the radar control unit of the SAM site: “The main radar dish is temporarily down. If there is a threat, you will have to use local fire control.” “Roger.” Panic by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Panic 2 by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr What comes after shutting down a SAM radar? An airstrike! The Xenor soldier feared something and prepared the SAM launcher. At the same time, the Filace sniper team sent a message to the incoming Picaron aircraft sent by Erotema. Cows are not stupid! by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr At the same time, cows were leaving the area. Cows are not known for being the smartest animal farm, but they are not stupid! “Tizona, this is Redeye, enemy radar temporarily disabled”. “Redeye, roger. My radar warning receiver shows no threat. I climb and prepare for bomb run”. Laser designator on SAM by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr See the laser red point on the SAM mount! Captain Cabra pulled up and waited until the bombs were in range. “Redeye, this is Tizona, in range…bombs away” SAM launch by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Xenor soldiers, without central fire control, had to open fire with the local radar, with a lower range. This was reported by the snipers… "TIZONA, missiles inbound, missiles inbound. They're shooting at you" the spotter exclaimed with just a hint of excitement in his otherwise calm demeanor “Redeye, roger, taking evasive action” A few seconds later TIZONA reported… “Missiles evaded, repeat, missiles evaded” Laser guided bombs on their way by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Another picture of 2 lovely laser-guided bombs impacting the enemy SAM site. Laser guided bombs on their way by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Explosion by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Two laser guided bombs impact the SAM site disabling the launcher. “TIZONA, target destroyed, target destroyed” the pilot listened. "Roger that, REDEYE, extract as planned. Good luck down there. TIZONA out." The sniper team confirms the impacts and prepares to leave. Confirmation by green helmet spanish AFOL, en Flickr Captain Cabra beholding his work.
  2. World Map F7, Studica Map F3. Comments and Criticism are Welcome. Leaning against a guard rail along the edge of the highway, Ryan took one last puff on his cigarette before crushing it beneath his heel. It was hard enough being stationed towards the front, at least fifty miles from the nearest town, but what really got to him and most of the other soldiers was being away from their friends and families. Phones were strictly prohibited and there was no internet connection in the middle of nowhere, so mail day was the one day of the week anxiously awaited by all. And the men of the 109th Artillery were especially eager to receive letters from home since constant artillery barrages from Briolui prevented the mail from getting through the last two weeks. This time would be different, Ryan and his comrades hoped. Troop movements in other sectors seemed to occupy the Brioluian artillery which left the artillery positions free to receive their mail. "You know, those things will kill you," the newly minted Corporal Rodgers noted as he walked over to his friend. Just three days ago, it had been Private Rodgers until an enemy attack resulted in some unfilled leadership spots. "Geeze, thanks, Mom" Private Ryan retorted with a friendly punch. "But if you're so worried about my health, perhaps you should get me assigned to the General Staff." "Nah, not that concerned," replied Rodgers. There was a brief pause before he continued. "You think it's gonna come through today?" "It better, I'm pretty sure O'Hara will explode if he doesn't get something from his girl today." "Yeah, poor guy. Drafted just a week before his wedding." Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Before Ryan could continue, they heard the distant rumble of an approaching MRAP, and without waiting for another second, they both began sprinting back to their position. Unless it was some officer making a surprise inspection, the only reason an MRAP would be traveling along the highway was for the mail. Of course, as fast as they were, they were no match for the Centaur and it quickly zoomed passed them and turned off the highway by their position. "I think we're in luck" a Rodgers shouted between breaths as they continued to sprint. Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr It only took Ryan and Rodgers a few minutes to reach the MRAP, but by that time the mailman, a reservist based on his uniform, was already surrounded by soldiers anxious for something from home. "3rd Platoon, C Company" the men repeated with increasing enthusiasm, as if saying it enough times would reduce the time it took for the mailman to find the stack of letters and packages for 3rd Platoon, C Company. "Just a minute, just a minute" the mailman muttered as he searched the sack. Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr But before the mailman could find the stack, a shrill siren pierced the air. All the men froze where they were, and after a brief moment of disappointment, they ran to man their stations. By now, after weeks of training and combat, the motions came secondhand to most of the men; you hear the radio go off, you run to your station. "Oh well," Ryan thought as he manned his station at the electronic aiming and targeting system (EATS). "I've waited 19 days for letters, I guess a few more hours." Besides, it was rather funny to see the mailman dive for cover behind, of all places, a crate of mortar shells. Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr "Alpha-Hotel sector... range 8.53 miles... cluster shells" the Sargent called, only pausing as he to confirm the instructions with the commander on the other end of the radio. "5.2 points West by South-West... FIRE!" Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Overview shots: Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Mail Call by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr
  3. Filace didn't exactly have an alternative to instituting the draft. The lack of soldiers left its ranks severely depleted, but the new draftees couldn't just be given a rifle and sent to the front. Of course, there simply wasn't enough time to properly train them, either. Thus, many of them got to enjoy an abridged boot camp before they were packed away and sent to some backwater post. Most of them ended up patrolling the border, some ended up setting up roadblocks, while a select few got the honor of joining the Naval Infantry and spending their days in an isolated, hot, humid jungle 152 miles from the nearest village (and the nearest girls) doing little more than watching a river and checking the papers of the occasional vehicle. Zone is E4 Comments and Criticism are most welcome. Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr "Aww, come on Sarge, even you've got to see this is bull. So I've got a girly mag, big deal." "Well, if you haven't figured it out by now, you soon will that some officers, especially these butterbars the academy keeps turning out, are real sticklers for the rules." "Yea, sometimes I think they send us draftees with the sticklers just as a sick joke." "You got out of four weeks of boot camp, kid. I wouldn't be complaining." "Oh, so that's supposed to help? Send us off to battle without even getting enough proper training?" "You know, Jackson, most of us wouldn't exactly consider standing guard on some quiet jungle road the same as being in battle. "But," "Shut it and get up! Butterbar's coming!" Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr "Private Jackson! Where in the Sentry's Code does it say a sentry shall rest and chat with his buddies?" "No where, sir!" "Then what the hell is your excuse!?" But before Jackson could answer, the Sargent's headset squawked. "Sir, a Centaur's coming up. Army by the markings." Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr The lieutenant began shouting orders as the men manning the bunker and mortar began getting into position. P1110393 by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Built only a few weeks ago, the bunker was so new that the grass hadn't even grown back to the edge of the concrete walls. But that's not what the men were worried about. They were busy making sure that everything was perfect, that every man was at his exact position per the textbook. Of course, the MRAP probably didn't present a threat. Most likely just another supply of high-tech computers or some important civies (average civies had to travel on one of the massive barges hauling steel and cement). Probably a missile base, the men thought. Perhaps a new airfield or secret testing site. Whatever it was, it must be something big given the number of trucks and barges heading there. But of course, that wasn't what the men were worried about. Right now they were making sure that every last detail was perfect lest their commanding officer decide to write them up for inattention to duty, negligence, or whatever other offense came to his mind. Within seconds, everyone was at their places and a few minutes later the chirping and howls of various jungle animals was replaced with the low, steady rumble of 330 horsepower. The rumble continued to grow, and within a few moments, the massive Centaur came around the curve. The Sargent, or more accurately, whoever the informed the Sargent was right, Army markings and an Army crew. Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr As the massive vehicle came closer, Jackson couldn't help but wonder who came up with the Navy's checkpoint strategy. A bunch of guys with M4s, grenades, and a SAW versus one of these armored beasts. Hell, if that thing wasn't friendly, it could crash through the checkpoint and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. And of course, Jackson, Sarge, and the Lieutenant wouldn't exactly be in a good position, considering that they were supposed to stand in the middle of the road just behind the paint-on-wood barrier. Fortunately for Jackson, this Centaur wasn't any different from any of the others, and it slowed down and came to a complete stop about five yards from the gate (if you could call it a gate). Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr The two front doors opened and the driver and passenger hopped out. They walked up to the gate, saluted the Lieutenant, and the driver handed over his papers. "We've already unlocked the back, sir. You man will have no trouble checking our cargo." The Lieutenant paused for a moment before speaking. He loved issuing orders, especially to soldiers, and he was rather upset that they were one step ahead of him. "As it should be!" the Lieutenant snapped in reply. As he read the soldier's papers, he continued. "But it looks like they have you Army guys playing delivery boy for naval computers." "Yes, sir. All we were told was that someone wanted the job done right for once." Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr At this, the Lieutenant's face began turning red and Jackson had a sudden coughing fit. He may have been in the Navy, but he was still green enough to laugh at the joke. The Lieutenant glared at him before shouting to the soldier behind the truck. "Private Goldberg, what have you found!" "Just two NeoGen X-5000s, boxes properly marked for delivery to Arthur Hastings, Brickeon Technology." "And the code?" "It matches Mr. Hastings', sir." Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Returning the papers to the driver, the lieutenant told the driver "you're clear to go." Then to his own men, "Sargent, clear the road and get this gate up!" Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Rumble in the Jungle by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Additional Pics of the Centaur Mine-Resistant, Ambush Protected (MRAP) Vehicle. Centaur MRAP by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Centaur MRAP by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr Centaur MRAP by Capt. Genaro, on Flickr