VR WARS Volume II - Coalition Army

OPENING MOVES

Battleground: Center

UAT’s sector of operations,

70km from Kursk

Formed up into a wedge formation with the Phoenix Unit, stationed at the very front in preparation to lead the charge, the students of the Azorean contingent keenly waited for the signal. At Angelo’s request, the only named elite fighting force under him was converted from their more traditional cavalryman role to an armored spearhead of twenty-four tanks. Wielding the best equipment available in 1943, the UAT represented the most ferocious and fanatical unit of Nazi Germany at Kursk; the Waffen SS.

Reenactment without prejudice was everything to the Bermuda System, and the presence of the II SS Panzer Corps was of extreme importance. It was the units that composed this formation, the SS Divisions Leibstandarte, Das Reich, and Totenkopf, that advanced the farthest during the offensive and bore the brunt of the soviet counter-attacks in the village of Prokhorovka, whose aftermath ultimately stopped the German advance on Kursk.

Regardless of the many protests from his staff and his superiors, Angelo, a dedicated fan of historical accuracy, made sure each of his battalions wore the badges of these divisions on their uniforms, stating in his defense that “Their war crimes against humanity had little or none to do with their participation in this battle and that those fanatics were some of the best units on the field.” A reason for which the hundred-twenty strong Phoenix Unit wearing the emblems of the Leibstandarte counted with five Panther tanks, five Panzer IVs, four Wespe self-propelled guns that could act as mobile artillery, and a force of ten Tigers. Each of these elements could cause devastating effects on their counterparts on their own, but it was the Tigers with their near-impenetrable armor that would form the tip of the spear. They were the best and most deadly weapons the Germans brought to bear on the Soviets.

Following closely behind their triple-layer spearhead would be the armored half-tracks carrying the Panzergrenadiers in charge of supporting the tanks, the students of 1st Battalion under Big Richie. Further behind, occupying the spear's last layer, were motorized vehicles, anti-tank weapons, and reconnaissance units with the 2nd Battalion under Leonardo, acting as the UAT reserve.

For a force comprising less than 1/9 of the coalition's totality, many believed Angelo had finally lost his mind when he argued for taking the Center battleground instead of merely providing support and containment on the right flank. But in his mind, what the UAT lacked in strength in numbers gained in its size and composition. A small unit could almost vanish from the map with a swift and precise assault in a single sector instead of an all-out assault across the entire front. It had been done before; it could be done again.

All the while, hundreds of artillery shells exploding in the far distance brought the echoes of war closer to the students, doing little to calm their nerves. This led Angelo to believe that his students still weren’t fully prepared for that type of warfare, not when they were winching from their own artillery landing on the enemy's side and especially not when shells from the enemy had yet to land on their position. The adrenaline pumping hard into their blood from Angelo’s speech started to fade away, with fear taking the place of courage.

Sensing their determination being overpowered by the waiting game that so many veterans had discussed over the years about being the worst factor during the war was what drove Angelo to make the decision. A decision that would set in motion a chain of events that would throw everyone in disarray and whose aftermath would weigh heavily on both sides.

“We go now!”

Barely ten minutes had passed since the UL’s guns' full might began their shelling on the frontline. Though everyone knew how reckless their Commander could be, what he was ordering them to do now, made no sense, especially when the barrage still had another fifty minutes to go.

“But, sir, we’ll be walking right into friendly fire!”

Ignoring the warnings of one of his students, Angelo, sitting on one of the half-trucks that served as his command vehicle, followed his gut like he had done countless times and broke radio silence. “Marco, move your Tigers first! I’ll follow right behind with the rest of the force,” he said, ordering the core of the Phoenix Unit to start their assault. “Kat, tell the artillery to mix some smoke rounds within that barrage! All units prepare to move out!”

“On it, Angie-boy.” “Roger that Angelo, we’ll halt our advance outside their anti-tank range capabilities and wait for the infantry to catch up.” “Start engines!” “Let’s get’em!” Multiple voices, mainly from his core of reliable officers, came through the intercom, looming for some payback. The hatred for their neighbors blossomed again, outweighing their previous fears now that the time for action had come.

Raising his head above the metallic cover protecting the vehicle, Angelo watched his entire force brimming with cheers. The excitement was so great that for a moment, some of the lighter vehicles of the 1st Battalion ended up speeding, which snowballed into the entire force, moving past the slower tanks of the Phoenix Unit they were supposed to protect. Nonetheless, thanks to the officers' efforts in charge, an order was soon reaffirmed, with everyone holding position to allow Marco’s Tigers to gain some ground first. Clouded in armor made them heavy and slower than most other tanks, but most students agreed during the training that the sight of one of those beasts fighting alongside them was reassuring and inspiring. The dark fumes coming out of the heavy machines’ exhaust system nearly blinded the vision of the ones staying behind, a fact that concerned the lower ranks but not the man in charge. He had full confidence in Marco, for he was the only actual soldier in the UAT that was part of a real mechanized unit.

“The ‘Magician of the battlefield’ in his own element…what can go wrong?” Angelo said almost in a whisper.

“Without support, the Tigers are sitting ducks,” a fellow student from Angelo’s class that served as his aide-du-camp, named João, voiced his concern while keeping tabs on the advancing unit through a pair of binoculars. A comment that made the UAT commander crack a smile, “Ha-ha, give the order, man.” A fact that amused him was his subordinates' growth; once oblivious to war and the machines and tactics used to win them, most of his students were now history buffs drilled intensively in every form of combat—a dream come true for him.

“Sure thing, boss-man. All units, red leader, here begin the approach. I say again, full advance.”

Barely twenty minutes after the first shells plodded over the frontline, the UAT ignored standard protocol of letting the artillery do its work, and with roaring engines, it went on to the offensive ahead of schedule. Amidst that, and this was by no means an arranged signal, the timing of their assault would coincide with the UC and combined Mirabilis and Terra Units' initial probings on either flank.

IF’s headquarters,

City Center,

Kursk

Dressed with the colors of the Iberian Federation, Kursk breathed anew. The two colors of red and yellow representing the former country of Spain had been eagerly anticipating the integration of two newer ones, blue and white, the colors of Portugal for a long time. To most Iberians, this day would signify the fruition of all the endeavors since the civil war that had ravaged the country decades ago, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to prove to the world stage that the Federation alone could rule the Iberian Peninsula. If hatred was burning strong in the Portuguese ranks, the longing for unity was burning just as keen on the IF’s lines. Finally, the chance had come for their generation to prove their nation's supremacy once more.

The worn-thorned city that was deprived of movement barely an hour ago came back to live with the presence of thousands of Iberian students gearing up for the looming war; however, most of these were not marching straight to the frontlines but instead to the outer edges of the city. Occupying the center position inside the city stood the Town Hall, situated in elevation, slightly above the rest of the buildings. The neo-baroque building featured a long staircase leading to its entrance, which projected four Doric pillars holding its entablature together carved with designs of fruits and flowers and two towers defending the corners. The upper portion of an arch sticking upward that made its insides could be seen from the outside.

Inside the dome-like structure, numerous rooms connected themselves to the corridors that stretched left and right, making the entire thing look like a crafted maze, and in the very center of the labyrinth stood the headquarters from which every strategy was conceived, the heart of the IF army. Students dressed in Soviet khaki green uniforms came and went from the room carrying messages and equipment. In contrast, dozens of others monitored the radio transmissions coming through, attempting to extract information on the opposing coalition. This attempt proved successful when they managed to intercept the rousing speech made by a particular Commander.

“…to all of you…kill them all!”

The message had the same feverish impact on the IF’s troops eavesdropping on the radio, except for their leader. Valentino sat in a chair, smirking at the words he had just listened to in almost denial.

“What a silly fellow...Does he honestly believe he has any chances of winning? Do any of them?”

“Now, now let them have their little hope, Julian,” the Supreme Commander of the IF remarked as he tabbed a window in his menu that displayed a holo map of the entire region. “They can shout all they want, but at the end of the day, it will be us to prevail, and when that happens, their entire country will be even frailer than it was before, which should make our invasion that much easier.”

Long before the VR Wars Competition was established, talks about the next war were no secret to either side; it was merely a question of when. Descending from an exceptional family with connections didn’t exactly assure his position, not when he hadn’t been tested yet. Above all else, the devoted government admired distinguished individuals, no matter where they came from, and people from prestigious families were no exception. Prime Minister Santana assured me that I would have a place in the coming war when we win here, the real one! He replayed the conversation he had last in his mind continuously, almost twisting it to a point where, after delivering a crushing victory in the virtual world, he saw himself leading his own command to battle against the Portuguese in the real world.

Moving out of the room and into a balcony with a full view of the courtyard, Valentino and his entourage mesmerized the sights below, the rallying point of the majority of IF’s forces. Thousands of people, as far as the eye could see, and rows of tanks and equipment perfectly lined up on the streets' sides to not hinder men and machines' ongoing traffic. This unbelievable vision that stretched past the city and into the surrounding countryside was Valentino’s endgame.

Having the overwhelming superiority in numbers meant that the IF could starve the main frontline of manpower to conserve their elite troops for the decisive confrontation. They believed that this nasty surprise would crush Pedro’s strategy and send a shock running through the Portuguese Coalition because the units performing the assault would be the very best they had. Undertaking this massive counter-offensive, the Iberian Federation would shake even the most hardened veterans, resembling indeed the gigantic onslaught that had happened at Kursk eighty-two years prior.

“Five thousand men and women backed up by seven hundred tanks, just waiting to be unleashed.”

“It’s about the same number of tanks the Soviets used at Prokhorovka.”

“We got another fifty tanks and a thousand people in reserve guarding the city.”

“They have no chance of winning, ha-ha-ha.”