May 10th, 1940. Approximately 30 miles west of Charleroi, Belgium.

A massive convoy of trucks, tanks, and all sorts of vehicles had piled onto the main highway in Southern Belgium after crossing the border near Maubeuge France in the early hours of the morning. Only a few hours prior, they were alerted of German forces crossing the Belgian and Dutch borders and starting an assault on Fort Eben Emael, a key linchpin in the Franco-Belgian defense plan against the looming German offensive. The First French Army, the vanguard and most powerful offensive force the Allies could muster, raced toward the city of Gembloux in an attempt to set up a defense network and stop the Germans from rolling through the flat Belgian plains. The hope was that a counter offensive by the Franco-Belgian forces could stall out the German thrust into the country and prevent the Germans from doing what they'd done twenty years prior. The last thing any Frenchmen wanted was for yet another devastating war on French soil.

"I can't believe the crazy bastards actually invaded Belgium." A short brown-haired young man said to the older man with a bit of gray hair that sat next to him. The older man was an officer based on the patch on his arm, and the red and white armband that he was wearing indicated that he was part of the medical corp. "History really repeats itself I guess. Though I doubt that you're glad that you called it, Dad." He shook his head. You could tell from his eyes and chattering teeth that the young man was nervous, as were the other men in the back of the truck. The war had turned into a stalemate since the fall of Poland at the end of last year and beyond German operations in Scandinavia, many were starting to believe the war was nothing but a joke.

"Yeah, you're right... I wish that I wasn't." The older man grumbled about the Belgian Politicians being idiots for not letting them take up positions within their country before the Germans crossed the border. "But I knew from our experience in the last war that the Germans wouldn't just leave the Belgians alone, and I figured they'd try the same strategy again. I'm just glad that Command seems to have its head on straight and sent us into Belgium to halt the Germans before they reached French Soil." Emile didn't want to see France torn apart for a second time in the last twenty years, especially not when he'd seen the hellscape that Northeastern France became.

{I just hope we're in time to stop them from gaining too much ground. The Germans can probably move quite quickly over the flat terrain here, and since the Belgians didn't want us taking up positions on the Dyle River or the Albert Canal before they crossed the border, we might not be able to do this as cleanly as Command wants.} (Emile)

"Do you think we can do this, Sir?" One of the other young men in the truck, Philip, asked Emile. "I've heard the Germans wiped out the British Forces that went into Norway, and those weren't even the best troops that Germans had." He was shaking a bit as they drove down the highway. There was an expectation that the Germans would soon take all of Norway, and Emile knew well that the forces they were about to face were the cream of the crop, so it was reasonable to be nervous.

"Son, listen." Emile replied with a calming voice. "We held the bastards back twenty years ago even though they pushed within miles of Paris, but this time we're going to meet the bastards before they get settled in. Not to mention that we've got a better and bigger army than them, and the Brits are already on the contention, so we'll be fine." He was cautiously optimistic that they could handle things, though he was worried that the Germans had some sort of plan. "Just calm yourself. There's no use getting all stress out before the battle's even begun. All you'll do is exhaust yourself for no reason."

{Though I was no better during my first battle, though I highly doubt this is about to turn into the hell that Verdun did.} (Emile)

"How the hell can you be so calm, old man?" Another soldier scoffed. "Are you not afraid to die? Is that why you brought that antique with you?" He pointed to Cher. The old weapon was woefully out of date compared to the more modern weapons the other soldiers had, and they all thought it was some kind of joke that he was planning on using it.

"Being calm does not mean that I'm not afraid." Emile laughed. "Contrary to what you might think, I am afraid of both myself and my Son here dying. I just know that letting that fear get the better of you is a quick way to see yourself dead." He glared at the Soldier. "And Cher her might be an antique, but the old girl has more than enough kick to do the job." He pat the rifle. "She got me through the first war, and she'll do it again, just you watch."

"I just hope you don't hold us back, old man." The Soldier laughed, and so did a few others as the tension broke slightly. "We don't have time to help Grandpa out if he's too slow."

"I'm pretty sure my Dad can run laps around us all." Arnold shook his head. "He works out regularly and is in pretty good shape. Though he is still old!" He laughed, and Emile rolled his eyes.

{This boy of mine...} (Emile)

"Listen, when you get to be my age, I hope you're in at least half as good a shape as me." Emile sighed as the sound of planes echoed overhead. "I hope those are friendlies. Otherwise, this convoy is a massive sitting duck."

{Air warfare has advanced so much these last twenty years. Now I'd wager you have more to fear from above than on ground level.} (Emile)

"Didn't someone mention the Germans used gliders to hit that Belgian fort?" Another soldier commented as they went over a bump in the road. "Do you think they can actually take it with just paratroopers? My buddy said his group was training on something like that and the results were really crazy."

"I sure as hell hope not." Another soldier groaned. "The Belgians built that thing to stop the Germans, if it goes down there's nothing between them and the interior of the country."

{Not to mention if they take Eben Emael, then we're probably not going to be able to hold them where we were ordered to. If we have to meet their full strength at Gembloux without proper defenses...} (Emile)

"I mean, that thing is supposed to be even more impregnable than-" Arnold stopped as he heard a strange siren-like noise in the distance. "What the hell is that?" As they paused to listen the sound started getting louder and louder, and a moment later, the truck they were sitting in sped up unexpectedly. "What the hell is going on?!?" Arnold started to panic as he turned to his father.

"That sound..." Emile thought for a moment, trying to figure out what it was. "Where do I remember-" Suddenly it clicked. He'd heard that once before. It was in a propaganda video related to the Spanish Civil War, and it could only mean one thing. "Fuck! It's a dive bomber!" He quickly shuffled past some of the men in the truck to look out the back, only to see a Stuka dive in and destroy a tank a few rows back in the column with an explosive, causing a fireball as the other trucks and tanks to start swerving to avoid what looked like three other planes coming in for an attack run.

"What the fuck was that?!?" Arnold yelled at his father in a panic. "Was that an explosion?!?"

"They're attacking the convoy! We've got three more coming in!" Emile pushed to the front and opened a small hatch before screaming at the driver. "Pull over! We need to get out of the truck! We're sitting ducks in here!"

The driver argued with him for a moment but eventually relented, pulling the truck onto the side of the road as the other vehicles kept going past it.

"Go! Go! Go! Get out and onto the ground!" Emile started shuffling everyone out of the truck before jumping out himself, just in time to see one of the trucks that drove past explode as the Stuka dropped its bomb on it.

"Holy fuck!" A soldier screamed as he dove to the ground.

"its not over yet! We've got two more!" Emile screamed. "Get away from the truck! It's going to be a massive target!" He pulled Arnold behind him and pushed him into a small drainage ditch. "Keep your heads down!"

The third Stuka started strafing with its cannons and tore through another truck before droppings its bomb onto a tank, though it missed and exploded harmlessly.

{One more...} (Emile)

The final Stuka sped in from a distance and started making moves toward another tank that had gotten stuck as it tried to avoid the exploded truck that was blocking the road.

"Get out of the tank!" Emile screamed, but the men inside couldn't hear them, and just as he was about to run over and try and warn the men.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *ZOOM*

A series of loud shots went off and the incoming Stuka was riddled with bullets before crashing into a field nearby and exploding. A moment later, a pair of Hurricanes flew overhead and started chasing the other three Stukas, which they quickly shot down.

"Aw, hell yeah!" A Soldier cheered as the fighters took down the attack planes. "The Brits fucking got 'em! Never thought I'd be happy to see one of those tea-drinking bastards!" Some of the other soldiers cheered alongside him.

"Is everyone alright?!?" Emile looked at the other men that were in the truck with him, and it seemed that they were all fine, even the driver. "Alright, if everyone here is fine, then I need to get over there! There might be someone alive in there!" He ran as fast as he could toward the burning wreck of the truck that was hit by the explosion, with Arnold and the rest of the men right behind him.

"Can anyone hear me?!?" Emile said as he got closer to the burning wagon. "Is anyone still alive?!?" Things weren't looking good. The truck had taken a direct hit, and most of it was either in pieces or on fire.

{Shit!} Emile cursed in his mind as he tried to find anyone in the burning wreck. The driver was blown to pieces in what was left of the cab, and he found several body parts strewn around the exploded wreck, along with a lot of blood.

"Over here!" One of the other soldiers yelled out. "This kid's alive!"

Hearing this, Emile ran as fast as he could to the other side of the destroyed truck. He only had a small amount of medical supplies on hand, so he told one of the soldiers to run back to the truck and bring his field gear.

"Where is he?!?" Emile came around the side and saw two soldiers dragging a third out from under a piece of debris. "Is he still conscious?!?" He ran over as the men put the young soldier down. He was spitting blood from his mouth and was screaming in pain due to his extensive injuries.

"His leg is shattered, and he's losing blood fast." Emile quickly got to work and had some of the men put pressure on the wound. The injured soldier's right leg was mangled, and it didn't look good. "We need to get him to a field hospital immediately!"

"D-Dad is he-" Arnold tried to say something, but Emile ignored him as he started setting the injury and wrapping it in gauze brought from the truck.

"Tell the driver that we're changing the destination to Forward Base Amelie! This kid needs more help than I can give him here!" Emile yelled to one of the soldiers, who instantly took off to tell their driver. This would require they go back a few miles, but Emile was going to be dammed if this man died because of the inconvenience.

{I'm not letting you die! Stay with me!} (Emile)

After getting the injured man situated, Emile had him put on a stretcher and placed in the back of the truck. As he was barking out orders, Arnold stood, pale faced as he looked at the burning wreckage and the bomb craters.

"So...T-This... This is war..." Arnold was no fool and the stories that his father had told him of the first war made it so that he knew that war was hell, but until his moment he never knew just how horrific the real thing was.