Duty Log | Gen. Richard Sharpe | "In the Living Years"

Posted on 241506.28 @ 4:12am by General Richard Sharpe

Mission: The Krigoran War [GQ]

"Remember, this is a military operation. Nothing ever goes according to plan." - Gen. Ludwig Beck

The map table looked like someone had allowed a ten year old loose in the room unsupervised, and had thrown everything across the table. Blue markers were intermixed with red ones, all over the place. The lines, such as they were, no longer seemed to exist.

Sharpe had units on both sides of the river now, but so did the enemy. He'd pushed forward on the left, they'd surged on his right. It was as if they could see inside his HQ building, something that he'd not completely discounted, although his G-2 stated was not possible, but had gone away with a flea in his ear instructing him to check and check and check again.

To make matters worse, he'd been informed that the 89th MECH was now under intense fire on his rear flank - which suggested that there was a sizable enemy force behind him that until now, intelligence had failed to spot. This had meant that Harper had run plumb-duff into an unknown military force of undetermined size and strength. Sharpe knew that he'd underestimated the Krigorans, believing them to be a rag-tag band of mercenaries and pirates, but in reality, they were a well formed and equipped military force in their own right, and were proving to be a nightmare to fight. His marines were some of the best trained personnel in the Quadrant, but they were being bested by what he'd been reliably informed by many intelligence briefings as a 'ineffectual force'.

Facing him across the river had been nothing short of a full Army-Group of military personnel, with plenty of equipment and resources. Now it appeared there was another force behind him, moving up from the second city. Either Harper's brigade would be more than a match for it, or he was outmatched and his entire brigade would be wiped out. It was already under heavy fire, but was returning contact based on last reports from General Trident's HQ.

It was taking all his strength to avoid interfering in that area of operations, but he had to think of the bigger picture, and this was General Trident's operation. To interfere at this point would undermine Trident, and drive a wedge between Harper and Trident that Harper got special treatment. He couldn't have that, and Harper would never forgive him if he did it.

"Sir." Came a quiet voice, disturbing Sharpe as he stood facing out the window.

"Yes Lieutenant?" Sharpe replied, tersely, trying very hard not to take out his bad mood on this poor twenty year old.

"We intercepted a burst transmission from the 89th MECH. They requested close air support, but were denied by Colonel Albright." The young Lieutenant reported. The Chief of Staff had clearly felt that this report deserved Sharpe's attention. Even though Sharpe had asked to be kept informed of the 89ths progress, the Chief of Staff had tried to keep most of it from him to prevent her CO meddling. This clearly passed through her filter.

"Did he say why they were denied?" Sharpe asked, not turning away from the window.

"Operational concerns." The Lieutenant replied. "The Colonel doesn't feel there is adequate air superiority to provide CAS. He has asked the 89th to provide assurances that the aircraft won't be shot at from the ground."

"Who let this idiot command one of my air wings?" Sharpe asked, turning on the Lieutenant.

"I-I-I-I don't know sir!" The Lieutenant stammered, clearly scared at the sudden turn this conversation had taken.

"Oh, of course you don't. Sorry." Sharpe replied, then stormed over to his desk and picked up his communications uplink. "Get me Colonel Albright at 515 Air Wing."

It took a few moments to connect the call, and it appeared that during that connection, no one thought to tell Albright who he was talking to. "Hooper 6 Actual."

"Hooper 6, you are to provide close air support for 89 MECH at grid co-ordinates five five six seven nine mark eleven. Copy over."

"Negative on request. This has already been denied once. Let me speak to your supervising officer." Albright responded angrily.

"Well, you could, but I'm not sure the President of the United Federation of Planets takes calls from this distance." Sharpe snapped. "Hooper 6 Actual, this is Eagle 6 Actual, since clearly no one in your comm centre thought to tell you this."

The satisfaction of 'feeling' the "Oh shit!" moment coming over Albright made all this worthwhile. "Eagle 6, the area is not secure for our aircraft. There's a lot of fire down there from recon overflights."

"Colonel, let me make this abundantly clear. There is a marine unit standing into harms way, who has requested close air support, and you're denying it because your birds might get shot at?" Sharpe asked. "I am giving you a direct order. You will provide any and all air support missions you are requested to fly, and unless you have a damn good reason that you and provide to me, they will all fly."

"Sir, I must protect the men and women under my command. I cannot in good conscience send them int-"

"I believe the reply to an order, Colonel, is "Yes Sir". At least it was last time I checked the SFMCJ. I'm not going to quibble with you Colonel. Either fly the missions requested, or consider yourself relieved."

"Yes Sir." Albright replied.

After terminating the call, Sharpe was feeling a bit better. Even if it had been a small victory over one of his many functionary officers, it was a victory of sorts. It reminded him that he had marines in harms way, and he had a job to do.

"Lieutenant!" He barked, and the young man came nervously into the room. "Sir?"

"Summon my staff. I want them here in five minutes. I have a new idea I want to try..."

= End Log =

General Richard Sharpe
CG, 3rd MEF