The Memoirs of cpl Michael Schmidt: Log 1

Cpl Michael Schmidt
107th Anti-aircraft division: "Rifle Runners"
August 17th 19XX

It's dark out here now, the thirty days of night has finally begun. Here i tread alongside my squad of Anti-Air gunners, known specifically as the "Rifle Runners". We are specialized in taking down aircraft with nothing but our modified M3 Garuda rifles, equipped with plasmic armor piercing ammunition that can clip a STUKA's wing or shoot a Hind's pilot right in the face. It's been said that the entire frontier has been overrun by communist forces. They've been trying to carve out areas to stage a base. So far we have yet to come into contact with any civilian, which made us all fear the worst for our countrymen. So we trek on, hoping to soon begin our assault. However, nothing that day would of prepared me for the hell that would soon rain down in Alaska. Soon, the Night sky became a blaze with the sound of cargo planes & Hind choppers. We quickly raised our rifles, waited for the full charge sound, and began opening plasmic fire on the airborne assailants. One by one the planes went down. The Hinds began to swoop down and start to unload its arsenal on us, but our instinctual training was with us: Run. Gun. Live.

Me and another trooper took cover near a snow bank and began to equip our barrel extensions. These were vital for shooting down any kind of assault ship, including an armored Hind. That one trooper was brave enough to divert from from the Hind as my rifle finished its charge. The poor warrior was unfortunately gunned down before i could pull the trigger and send that hind spiraling into a frozen lake. I only had a moment to see his corps & utter a small prayer before i started hearing a thunderous war.

I looked forward to see my squad mates pointing to the sky and yelling "Paratroopers!". Removing the "Chopper Clipper" from the Garuda, I sprang back toward my company and began to aim upward, only to discover a truly terrifying sight.
They were certainly Russian paratroopers that were floating down, but it was what they were mounting that had filled us with sheer dread. Russian soldiers were riding on the backs of armored, Kodiak bears straight from the Siberian wilderness. They were riding godforsaken bears!

The company leader began to shout "Shoot Them! Shoot the bears!", and so we did. But we would of never imagined those bears being equipped with reinforced titanium armor. When the first group of "Kremlin Riders" touched down, They reached for their Kalashnikov's and began to shout out "RUSSIYA!", to which the damn bears replied, growling out "RUSSIYA" as well. Goddamn bears were even trained to talk! But that was what i used to think, for i did not know that the bears were equipped with specially designed 'speech collars'. Soon the company became surrounded by at least 10 of those Kodiak riders. Their automatics were equipped with bayonets, yet they did not take aim at us to end our lives. Instead, they stood there and waited for us to make the next move.

I looked over to my captain, who was gritting his teeth angrily, almost as if we were being forced to surrender. But as i gazed back to the combat ready Kodiaks, I had noticed they all began to unload their AK's. All they had left were empty rifles with bayonets. It was then i found myself stepping forward, removing the clip from my M3 Garuda, and tossing it to the side. MY company & leader looked at me as if i were a lunatic. But deep down, i knew what those red devils were looking for. They didn't want to exchange bullets, they wanted to exchange steel & blood.

I raised my hand near the tip of my rifle, twisted the muzzle to expose a 6 inch retractable bayonet. I positioned myself as if i were ready for a marathon. My squad members somehow managed to pick up my physical cue, and soon began to unload their guns & affix bayonets. The Kodiak para-bear cavalry also began to point their bayonets forward.

I clenched my rifle intensely. We could see our breath in the frigid air as we stared each other down from across the snowy fields. It was then when i saw the Bear Calvary commander pull out a saber & pointed it towards us. I turned to my section leader, who slowly pulled out his signaling whistle, placing it between his lips.

>There was soon a high pitched ring as the section leader blew the whistle. Soon, all we could see was red. We started screaming & charging forward, and the Kodiak riders soon followed force, yelling while their bears growled almost human like war cry's.

All i could remember was the sound of bayonets clanking, bears slashing at our men, and the sound of warriors shouting & fighting. Alaska had turned into a medieval battlefield that night. It was a time where history would show who were the real warriors that night.

End journal entry.