A few days ago, an echelon was air dropped into unknown terrain. Possibly enemy ground.
"Once again Comrades, we return to Afghanistan.". Mosin spoke as she cleaned her bayonet.
The dolls were quickly proving their worth, despite outnumbered three to one, they had repeatedly thrown off Militant attacks on their garrison, the only problem being ammunition was slowly running out. As a result, AK 47 and Mosin restricted themselves to only using their bayonets for the most part.
They had the especially important duty of managing the radio station and relaying reconnaissance reports and communications between the UN garrison and Militia forces.
The Russian dolls' outpost was an array of trenches surrounding several concrete bunkers and block houses. Barbed wire and Czech Hedgehogs were laid out to channel attackers into kill zones.
It was a formidable defense to say the least, however, the dolls needed to be reinforced.
The dolls showed a grim face. The last times Russians had set foot in Afghanistan, it had not ended well.
"Ah, I've see you've grown into the newer fashion trends.". Ak chuckled.
"Fine, I admit. The days of the red army are over. Only Asian rice farmers need me now.". Mosin shot back.
AK 47 was already well dressed for the climate, however, Ppsh and Mosin were laden with thick winter clothing, forcing them to trade their thick ushankas for pith helmet and their boots for sandals, finally, they ditched their coats and simply wore their undershirts.
The last few days were a series of probing attacks, rapidly repelled, but as a result, made the dolls uneasy.
"I've checked our dummies' visual feed from last night, nothing to note.". Ppsh called.
Their dummies were used as sentry duty while the actual dolls got as much rest as possible.
The dolls washed up from their water purifier which pumped fresh water from below.
Cheaply made but nourishing borscht was the daily meal due to food being harder to supply, forcing the dolls to stretch out their supply of existing food by making the soup.
Occasionally, there was the air drop sent by Rousseau, a welcome sight as they always brought more supplies and the vodka rations.
Being the oldest, Mosin was given the majority of the command of the base.
Mosin peered out into the distance. Several houses, probably abandoned sparsely surrounded the base. The underbrush also was thick and heavy the farther away from the base.
"Your soup, tovarisch.". Ppsh entered Mosin's quarter within the block house.
"Spacibo.". Mosin replied.
However, forces were amassing all around the garrison.
"Comrade, We count over eighty possible attackers." Tokarev reported to Mosin.
"Cheryt.". Mosin thought.
With dummies combined, twenty five dolls held the garrison.
"Send out a transmission to see if Rousseau can send help.".
Minutes later, there is a reply.
"Mosin, Rousseau says he cannot leave his flank undefended, the best we can get is some Militia artillery crews. Tokarev replied.
There is an extreme tension amongst the defenders.
"If we surrender we will sure be slaughtered.". Ots 12 stated.
"We can still make a run for it.". Ak 47 spoke.
"No. If we do not hold, this campaign is over. We cannot allow the enemy to drive a wedge between the UN and Martin's reinforcements.". Mosin countered.
"So this is it then, stand our ground for long as possible.". Tokarev spoke, looking at the other dolls.
"Not a step back.". Mosin affirmed.
The dolls sallied out to their trenches, with Mosin dummies comprising the majority of the first line.
Suddenly, voices popped out of the surrounding buildings.
"DOLLS. GRIFFIN AND KRYUGER HAS ABANDONED YOU. THEY WILL GROW RICHER AND RICHER AS YOU DIE. DEFECT! IT IS A GOOD IDEA TO LEAVE A SINKING SHIP!".
"Speakers, once this is over, I will personally crush all of them.". Ak seethed.
It began as light knocks in the distance.
Suddenly, massive explosions showered the trenches, quick and precise, cutting holes in the barbed wire, an artillery barrage.
The dolls brushed themselves off of the dust and debris generated by the attack as it ended.
A rush of Militants advanced towards the dolls.
Mosin readied her dummies.
"READY!".
The dummies steadied themselves.
"AIM!".
Rifles were raised.
"FIRE!".
Simultaneously, five rifles fired their five rounds into the mass, dropping multiple attackers.
The dolls crouched back into the cover of their trenches and reloaded.
At the same time, Two Ots dummies laid down fire from their bunkers.
As soon as the Ots dummies began to reload, the mosins stood up and released another five volleys.
The militants had been significantly thinned out.
At last, the militants closed in and assaulted the dolls with grenades and submachine gun fire.
A bloody melee began, the Mosins fought with their and bashing their rifles, the first wave had been repulsed.
The siege had begun.
Several miles east of the Russian dolls' stand.
"Good, you'll be air dropping them in." Martin finished.
"What was that radio about?". Mp 40 asked.
"We have an extreme deficit of machine guns and shotguns. Both of which are useful against Militants and in Urban environments such as the ones we are now.". Martin explained.
He had called in another echelon at a hefty price.
The dolls and Martin had temporarily rested in the town to allow WA2000 for some rest, as so, they prepared to move out.
"There should be a local village several clicks east.". Bonnie read out.
However, someone was watching from afar.
Another artillery barrage.
However, they were lucky.
To prevent the dolls from burning out themselves from the heat and constant battle, a shift was introduced. It was when Ppsh and her dummies were swapped with Mosin's at the trenches when the Militants attacked.
Two sets of dolls poured fire on the attackers, killing dozens.
This time, Ppsh 41s returned enemy grenades with their own, which the Mosin's lacked.
"CMON! SUPPRESSIVE FIRE!".
The dolls made no waste of Ppsh's extreme rate of fire, cutting down the rushing attackers.
"Papasha! Tone it down, we need to conserve ammo!". Mosin called.
At the same time, a series of explosions rocked the other side of the outpost.
"AK AND OTS HERE! REPORTING THREE BREACHES IN THE PERIMETER!".
Militants swarmed towards the opening, this time, covered with a smoke screen.
The militants were like the sea, retreating every time major losses were sustained and crashing back into the dolls.
Multiple bloody clashes between the two sides unfolded, eventually the smoke cleared.
Hundreds of Militants lay dead in the attack, all for the cost of two dummies.
The day grew darker meaning more possible Militant attacks, however there was a silver lining.
Air drops began arriving…
Meanwhile, at Martin's team on the right flank.
It was early morning, after an initial encounter with several militants across a valley, Martin's team had dug themselves in, creating foxholes as rudimentary shelter.
The were to clear a path to the Russian dolls, so reinforcements could arrive.
"Charlene! Could I borrow your bayonet?".
A bayonet flew over and embedded itself into the dirt. WA2000 took it and began working at the unopened can of stew.
The dolls were currently enjoying breakfast, before continuing their advance.
"Here, coffee.". Bonnie handed Martin a tin mug.
"Thank you.". Martin accepted.
Martin thought to himself. The dolls ran on food and water, such as a human. He recalled reading several manuals on how Tdolls operated, specifically, dolls ran on food and water to simplify logistics and durability. Petrol and similar fuels could freeze in cold environments, batteries did not have enough capacity and could leak, or even, explode.
Dolls were always fed before their superiors, constant combat was straining.
"Y'know, back in Europe, we'd have our food at the command posts, there was even food service for all three courses.". Charlene lamented.
"Be Glad the food's better nowadays, they used to give us hardtack and corned beef, the only times we got good food was before we went on an attack.". Bonnie spoke.
Charlene cracked open a tin of sausages and beans, and then, she took out a circular object with a silver wrapping.
"A jelly donut. Of course.". Martin chuckled.
Charlene gave a goofy smile before devouring the treat.
Eventually, breakfast was finished, and the dolls moved out, strengthened after their meal.
"So, reconnaissance tells us there is a network of trenches ahead, we can move through them fast and protected. Furthermore, we have reason to believe the enemy is attacking the center of our encirclement."
"We also have to clear the way for an armored unit...".
"Let's get a movin.".
The dolls pushed through trench networks, snaking through the fields of the countryside.
It would not be long until they met resistance.
"Heads low! We do not wanna be a sniper's prey!".
Mp 40 lead the advance, her weapon had the perfect mix of firepower and compactness, perfect for a trench.
She scoped out ahead, she noticed a small wire strung across the floor.
"Schiesse! Achtung! Halt! Halt!". She spat in rapid fire German.
She went prone and upon closer examination, revealed it to be a tripwire.
"Kommandant! It's a tripwire!".
Two F1 hand grenades were hidden from the angle they were moving through the trench.
Mp 40 drew a knife, and carefully disarmed the hazard.
Just then, gunfire tore from a farm house.
A concealed machine gun nest.
More guns joined the attack.
Bullets tore past the trees and grass, cutting the former down like invisible shears.
"BONNIE AND WA! SUPPRESSIVE FIRE! MP 40, GET YOUR SMOKES OUT! CHARLENE, GARAND, I WANT YOU GUYS ON MY ASS, WE'RE SMOKING THEM OUT!".
Mp 40 tossed two smoke grenades, obscuring the enemy, Martin, Charlene and Garand charged out of their trenches, right to the farmhouse.
They piled to the sides of the house, out of the enemy's line of fire.
"Charlene, get a nade in there!".
Charlene unhooked a m67 grenade from her combat vest, and tossed it into the window.
As the explosive detonated, Garand kicked the door down, and loosed rifle rounds, 30.06 punching clean through the stone walls.
The Militants were like rats.
They came from underground. Tunnels and other dug outs.
The dolls were trapped in a predicament, the enemy was effectively "hugging them", denying the dolls air or artillery support by fighting so close the dolls would risk friendly fire.
The close range also negated the superior aim of the dolls, allowing more foes to close in.
Tunnels allowed rapid deployment of dedicated fighters to replace the ones that were killed.
"Suka.". Mosin bit her lip.
"Clearly, they know there is no victory without sacrifice…".
"Alright! Second transport spotted Comrade!". Tokarev called.
Just as the C130 prepared to drop more crates, a burst of gun fire lit it up, sending it tumbling into the distance.
"Cheryt! The enemy has anti air batteries!".
A protracted trench battle began.
Militants were dug in, hard all along the road.
Every farmhouse, every ditch had a Militant inside.
The rocket slammed into the M113.
"GARAND! SEND A NADE OVER!".
Garand obliged, sticking a blank cartridge into her weapon, and launching a rifle grenade into the window.
A plume of smoke engulfed the militant.
"Tunnel spotted sir!". Charlene reported, before dropping a grenade in.
"Good work, those bastards ain't gonna come from here no more.". Martin replied.
Just as Charlene moved from her position, she was violently dragged into the air by her leg.
"Ahh! Help!". She called, her weapon clattering to the ground.
A loop of razor sharp barbed wire was caught around her leg. Someone had rigged a trap.
A spiked board came flying out of the trees.
CRACK.
Charlene tumbled to the grass before the board made contact.