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Thread: The Tientsin Campaign Memoirs. Submit your own memoir!

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    Senior Member TheDexFiles's Avatar
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    The Tientsin Campaign Memoirs. Submit your own memoir!

    This is a all inclusive creative writing exercise I’ve decided to come up with.

    You write a short memoir for a chapter of “The Tientsin Campaign Memoirs“; a fictional book in the CM universe. You must write from the point of view of a combat veteran that took part in the The Tientsin Campaign of 2165.

    For continuity purposes consider that the conflict between the United States Colonial Marines & the United Progressive Peoples, known as “The Tientsin Campaign” took place across the entire planet of Tientsin, and fielded a variety of biomes, climates, and events.

    Have fun, I’m excited to see what everyone comes up with!


    The Tientsin Campaign Memoirs

    “Battle of the Bogs”

    Memoir written by Tientsin Campaign Veteran: Lieutenant Colonel Howard Dalheart, “The Grey Alligator”


    The “Battle of the Bogs” they called it; Hell, it almost sounds stoic when called that; it was anything but. I was a major at the time, my strike team’s orders were to knock out UPP anti-air guns & rally all remaining colonial marine forces for a planetary evacuation in four days time; simple enough. Those four days were the longest of my entire life.

    My ship the USS Tremolino had broken the planet’s blockade a several hours prior; so debris from the UPP vessels I and my team had personally wasted durring the offensive still rained down from the sky when we broke through the atmosphere. Tientsin was muggy, moist, and smelled like a rancid turd. The planet seemed locked in an era similar to our own earth’s prehistory of large insects, slimy amphibians, and very hungry reptiles.

    That said I’m not sure why anyone wanted to fucking colonize that wet and humid planet in the first place, but I guess you take what you can find when it came to habitable worlds back in those days, at least in the UPP’s case. Hell, I’d take a barren shake and bake colony over that place any day, at least they have air-conditioning.

    This Dropship we were on was our one way ticket to hell itself. High Command had issued a no fly zone due to hostile Anti Air emplacements, and we were the last ditch effort, tasked with unfucking this diplomatic disaster. My team consisted of 12 battle hardened veterans some of which I knew well and others who were lost to the mud and blood of the battles to come. I can’t begin to tell their stories for them so I won’t. Our pilot officer was a snarky son of a bitch who played rock music over the PA system for “morale reasons”. I didn’t mind, it’s nice have something to clear your head before a fight.

    When we landed, I was able to discern from some of the Marines we were able to quickly rally, that their main force had routed from a mechanized UPP armor division two days prior, and about 2000 encircled colonial marines had retreated into the swamps and bogs of the planet’s southern region in an effort to slow the mechanized assaults. The UPP then had pursued them on foot in an effort to ultimately crush the remaining Colonial Marine presence on the planet’s surface.

    This led to my team & the ragtag survivors engaging in small skirmishes and short firefights throughout the miles and miles of bogs and dense swamps. I’ll spare you the details and simply say we spent the first day shooting a bunch of cheeky ass Russians and Chinese in a dense jungle bog. Destroying the anti-airguns was the easy part of the whole OP, I wish I’d known that beforehand, I wouldn’t of wasted all my grenades and C4. Unfortunately for us, the corpses we left behind had attracted the attention of Tientsin’s Apex predator, and worst of all, they mostly hunted at night.

    Those three nights back in 65 were the most horrible and terifying experiences of my entire life. Hearing scattered rifle shots in that pitch black swamp, only have it accompanied by the screams of wounded and dying men, crushed and mangled in the jaws of huge bog dwelling reptiles; the muffed gargling noises they made when being pulled into that murky water, culminated in a grotesque symphony that has rarely been duplicated across known space.

    I thought every step I took slogging through that mud could’ve been my last, my mind constantly drifted to my family, my wife Maria and my sons. The question of if I would ever see them again racked my brain, at least until the lunging of tooth filled maws from out of the reeds and darkness, followed by screams and pleas for mercy shot me back to reality.

    Each time dawn broke, we would see the result of such macabre events. They never tell you about the smell, they tend to leave that shit out of a history books, and it doesn’t exactly translate well over in the pubic reports anyway. It was so bad we were relieved when the vultures arrived to pick over what those reptiles hadn’t .

    The “Mud Gators”, as we had taken to calling them, were scarce and quiet during the day, no doubt fat and lethargic from the feast of UPP and Marines. These things were big, averaging about 15 to 20 feet in length and loaded with 800 pounds of jaws, teeth, claws, scales, bone and primal hunger. At night their calls bellowed out through the the reeds and stagnant, foul smelling ponds like a chorus of fat men sucking on their teeth; such a inhuman noise I can not even begin to describe, nor forget no matter how much I’ve tried.

    By afternoon of the fourth day we were within a mile of the evactuation site, and that’s when he got me. His scales were grey and covered in scars, and his eyes were red with blood lust while his jaws tightly wrapped around my leg. I didn’t scream, there was no time. The largest Mud Gator any of us had ever seen pulled me under so fast I was told my rifle and helmet hit the water long after I was gone.

    After that it all kind of goes fuzzy, and red. My boot knife did most of the work for me; as well as my sheer willpower of not wanting to die on that rock. When I and the sliced remains of the gator surfaced, my companions quickly pulled me from the water. In my half drowned, half eaten state, I looked to the sky to see friendly dropships & evac shuttles; right on schedule.

    I was never so glad to see the fucking things that dropped me off in this hell hole to begin with. My relief quickly changed once I realized I had a tooth the size of a dinner knife embedded in my leg; by the gods did that fucking wound throb. I didn’t get the chance to pull it out until I was safely onboard one of the evacuation shuttles, and boy did it squirt blood. I ended up keeping the tooth as a bit of a lucky charm, kind of a last “fuck you” to the Gators I suppose.

    In the end, of the 2,000 Colonial Marines that entered those wretched bogs of Tientsin, only 545 made it out alive; I’m not proud of that fact. Upon our return I was hailed as “heroic”, and “gallant” for my leadership in battle and efforts during the evacuation; I even gained a quaint little nickname for my triumph over that alligator from hell, you know they looked like more like crocodiles now that I mention it. In all honesty I agree, I must’ve looked like the Messiah himself to all those Marines I led off that godforsaken mud ball, that fact still doesn’t stop my nightmares

    I’m an older man now, and perhaps wiser. My leg never fully healed from the bite, and in my old age has forced me to use a walking cane, but I don’t really mind. I’m happy as long as I never have to see that damn planet again, but as for the UPP, I’ve got a score to settle.
    Last edited by TheDexFiles; 09-21-2019 at 12:37 PM.
    Garret Dalheart reporting for Duty!
    Captain Howard Dalheart
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    Joined the fight 19 Dec 2017

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    Senior Moderator Dorkkeli's Avatar
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    Rather short but immersed me well. Good work sir.
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    Senior Member TheDexFiles's Avatar
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    Thank you, wrote it in about an hour as an example/homage to the Battle of Ramree Island in ww2.
    Garret Dalheart reporting for Duty!
    Captain Howard Dalheart
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    “OVER THE TRENCH, MOVE!” My heart palpitated multiple times like an elephant was sitting on my chest up and down, seeing the chaos in the no man’s land before me. I saw dismembered bodies from both the UPP and Marines, men crying for their mother once again, and all I had to keep my company was this shitty Basquiat tattoo on my arm. A few bullets whirled past me, a few mortars landed only 20 meters away and I hopped into the trench in front of me, stabbing a UPP soldier in the chest with a bayonet, at first bouncing of his armor before managing to get a hit right into his face, then pulling the trigger of the M37A2, viscera splattering all over my face and eyes like a popped water balloon.
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    Senior Member TheDexFiles's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Swagbag View Post
    “OVER THE TRENCH
    Nice work, have you decided names for the veteran, battle?
    Garret Dalheart reporting for Duty!
    Captain Howard Dalheart
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    Joined the fight 19 Dec 2017

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