A win for the Imperium is not necessarily what one might assume a win should actually be. It might however be closer to what the forces they fight against. The heretic and mutants and xeno consider a win in their book.
They may lose thousands or even millions of men, rarely but possibly the whole planet itself. But if they do manage to destroy the planet or at least contain the threat.....to the Imperium of man, that is a win.
With the constant streams of attacks. Unrelenting is numbers and brutality, krieg command knew it was just a matter of time till their forces were overrun.
While it was preferred to hold that part of the defensive layout of the city, it will however end up as simply a drain into their resources.
Retreating their troops away from their could prove catastrophic as even for the insane discipline those in the korps possess, that moment of respite and pause could cause the enemy to move over them.
So it was decided that if it cannot be held then it shall be removed, through intense artillery bombardment whose aim is to level that whole place and if possible collapse it all into the underground.
The troops there, whom would be unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire were deemed a necessary sacrifice. No order to retreat were given even during the bombardment as the belief that they should and will hold the enemy long enough for it to be impossible for them to pass was necessary.
The platoons there were annihilated along with their gear, a loss the korps had to undertake. Similar decisions were being made throughout the defense line but less drastic.
Troop movements were unfolding throughout the city and concentrated artillery was released without stop, the grounds shook as the sky thundered in rage.
Bodies, stone, metal and even the ground was destroyed and ruined. At the same time, there was a plan underway to buy time for the encirclement plan to be ready for execution.
A cut through force whose aim was to feign the desperation of this regiment and the defense force here. A force spearheaded by tanks and riders, a force that was not meant to stop and simply ordered to ride through....
Through the thousands upon thousands of soldiers storming their position, the vehicles and tanks of the enemy having a clear view at them. Artillery support was to be provided but they had a range limit and tied hands.
It was to be expected that the loss rate of that force was a 100% and if by the Emperor's Mercy and grace some unlucky trooper managed to make it out.
The enemy is still at the back and would pursue until either of them end up dead, officer 6778-5678-5677-78krane was to lead this assault in his tank. It was his time to die and die well he shall do.
Not victory speeches was to be given, no expectations worded nor grieving gifted. There was only the silence of the dead, the words of prayers asking not for mercy or protection but for forgiveness.
They were only the sound of boots marching against the muddy ground of the trenches, the sounds of officers salvaging what they could from the soon to be dead soldiers.
Many had no need for the extra protection of ammunition nor the rations or the extra cylinders for breathing. Many squads had no use for the sleeping bags nor squad lamps assigned to them.
Those would be of more use to those still in the trenches, those still breathing and fighting on. Dogtags were already being taken from the still warm bodies...they were dead and they knew it.
All that was left was the few words each korpsman was taught, a set of words which showed the korps values and what it truly was. Their litany and final prayer.
" In life, war. In death, peace.
In life, shame. In death, atonement."
They charged into hell...
***
Back Into the city, the fierce fighting to gain and hold ground was still underway. The sounds of fighting never ceased in the city nor the sounds of the dying left unheard.
To the west of the city, a trench line had been under a great many assaults for the past few hours.
So great was it that they had their weapons overheating constantly and having to request extra gear and tools to manage with these assaults.
Their requests for artillery support had been denied as other parts of the campaign had priorities, some tank forces could be feasibly granted but none had arrived during the long hours.
Watchmaster of the 5th squad, 3rd platoon was told to hold this section of the trench line assigned to their platoon.
That was six hours ago, six hours of constant fighting that saw multiple members of her squad were forced to engage in close combat with their bayonets.
She crained her neck profusely as the feeling of having her neck being forced to snap was still present, she would be dead if they had succeeded.
She picked up her lasrifle and retook her position before continuing with her mission, she fired once, twice and thrice. Killing scores of heretics but they never stopped and she never stopped firing.
A moment of rest was a moment they got to move closer uncontested, soon 25 shots were gun and she switched to her next las pack.
She felt the area which she kept them, an oddly spacious gap was presented. She traced her hand through and found one more pack. It was her last it would seem, she grabbed and loaded it into her rifle.
To her left was another member of her squad, it was bleeding profusely from its shoulders. An axe was stuck somewhat deep into it, still it moved like it was never there.
They couldn't afford to mend the wound nor take time to at least cover it, she fired another shot into the legs of another person whom had tried his luck.
He fell screaming in pain and clutch his leg which had now divided in two, the shot tore a nasty gap into his knee. It was more divided now than attached with his bones outside for all to see.
She turned refusing to wait another shot to deliver the killing blow, she fired at those whom were stupid enough to run through the once open field unto their trench lines.
It was a field now so covered by bodies that some....just few of them were beginning to use it as stopping blocks to take cover and advance without getting shot.
She kept firing at those whom she was sure she would hit, conserving ammunition in this situation was idiotic and yet awfully the only conceivable plan.
They needed to be resupplied quickly but the quartermaster was nowhere to be seen, soon she fired as last shot and the audible dry clicking emitted from her lasgun reached her ears.
She had no more