War Is Hell - War Is Hell by Nemesisau

“Damn that was close!” thought Marcus as the wave of dirt and rubble washed over him.

He was currently behind a low wall, ears ringing from the explosion, wiping dust from his eyes with sweaty, blood soaked hands.
He looked around for the rest of his men, seeing most of some of them in the muck, the other pinned like himself.
He had to rally them, steel them for the charge.

Those new machines that hurled the ordinance that had him pinned needed to be reloaded periodically, he knew. He had lost track of when the last reload was, but long seconds had passed since the last explosion, so he took his chance.

The goal was the defensive circle around the enemy's commander. If they could get inside the range of the new weapons, they'd have him.

He stood and raised his weapon, the surrounding soldiers taking their cue from him.
He pointed his weapon at the enemy lines, only 50 yards away and, with an almost inhuman shout, called the charge.

Dodging from cover to cover, projectiles flying all around him, miraculously missing every time, he made his way to the base of the hill.
“Keep to the cover!” he yelled.
“Second squad, focus on the snipers, first squad with me, third squad, supporting fire!” his men were rallied by his calm and focus in the face of almost insurmountable odds. To a man, they redoubled their efforts, even though their comrades screamed and fell at their sides.

600 men stormed the hill at the Battle of Naissus. 50 made it to the top.

Surrounded, the enemy commander laid down his weapon and knelt in submission.

This victory, gained Marcus his latest honour. He would now be known as Marcus Aurelius Claudius Augustus Gothicus, Conquerer of the Goths.