DODS: Spawn to win

Ulric | 14 September 2009 | Comments off


I run out of spawn and go over the middle wall.

Roo is calling for help - the bloody Krauts have managed to break into the church! His voice gives it away: we’re in real danger of losing the center!

I break into a full sprint. Hurry, damn it!

Krauts begin to take the center flag.

There is rocket explosion as I enter the church, followed by 2 Islands finishing off the poor bastard the survived the blast.

No longer needed, I head towards my real target, moving past a squadmate guarding the front doors. I peer out and wait – two, seconds, three - until I see the break I need. I run out of the church, straight at the enemy position to secure the last objective.

Bullets whizz by as I sprint. Rockets fly overhead…

Two Krauts in the way. The Thompson in my hand ignites before I realize it. Two Krauts dead. Over them and away.

I secure the final objective, only to realize that the Jerries have retaken the tree just before me. We’ve lost an objective! No victory – damn the gods of war for teasing me so!

Panic sets in as I realize that I’m now behind enemy lines, and standing in plain sight. My inner voice starts yelling at me: THINK, DAMN IT! MOVE YOUR ARSE!

Quickly I run to the end of the alley and crouch behind the pole, merely a few meters from the final objective. I feel exposed; the pole isn’t really cover, I know they can see me if they look to their right. I check my watch - still plenty of time to win this if they find me – and listen to the radio chatter. General is having a hard time trying to retake the tree objective.

My pulse starts to speed up…

A Kraut jumps out of the window and waits to retake the objective I’ve just secured.

A second Kraut appears, but mercifully only looks left, not right. Together the two undo my hard work while I wait, exposed and motionless, alternatively terrified and fuming.

More seconds tick by. My heart begins to pound.

A third Kraut appears… Now a fourth. They move on, never looking around. The fifth does the same.

Damn – we’re losing the wine bar. Wait, Lt. Col. Scoobs and his mob blocked it!

Krauts Six, Seven and Eight jump out of the window.

Suddenly automatic rifle fire starts coming from the church, bullets ricocheting past me. How ironic, to lie in wait behind enemy lines for what seems like an eternity, only to die by friendly fire!

Yet, as the fire dies away, I still breathe. I look at my watch. We’re running out of time. DAMN IT, TAKE THE TREE!

My mouth goes dry, but I don’t dare reach for my canteen. I need both hands on my Thompson in case that I’m discovered.

Nine, Te- wait. Damn Ten! Why is he camping the objective? Just my bad luck - the bastard’s decided to go prone on the edge of the objective, surely blocking any attempt to take it. There’s always one that makes the right decision at the wrong time. Why have the gods forsaken me? Why now?

Eleven comes and goes. Ten, damn him, does not.

What’s taking them so long? Take the bloody tree!

Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, and Fifteen, all at once. Why are they are milling around? Go away, damn it! I should spring up and kill them – and get that bastard Ten as well. But if I do, their mates will know I am there. I resist temptation.

Phew – they’re rushing off towards the church and tree.

The General says over the radio that they are about to push in force on the tree. I must take care of Ten, or they’ll never take the objective.

I wait, calculating when best to act.

Seventeen and Eighteen jump out and run to the left and away. No more Krauts for the moment; it’s just Ten and I.

I pull the grenade off my belt and roll it towards Ten as gently as I dare, praying that he doesn’t hear it, or realize that it came from behind. The sudden explosion takes Ten to his grave in a shower of dirt and gore, with no Krauts in sight to realize what happened. Sweating bullets, I go back to waiting and hoping…

Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-one jump out and go. I can hear a lot of fire in the distance. The radio is alive with warnings of where the Krauts are hiding.

I watch as the death toll climbs, all green killing red, and my heart beats even faster, adrenaline kicking back in, as I see the Kraut’s red on the tree slowly turn to Allied green.


Twenty-two, Twenty-three, and Twenty-four all jump out of the window and race towards the front, paying me no mind. Twenty-five and Twenty-six are next. I tense: they are my ticket, my personal escort to the flag.

GO KREED, MOVE NOW – FOLLOW THEM! Don’t get to close, you stupid bastard! Don’t let them block as you try to take it. There, they’ve cleared out. Now… TAKE IT!

My heart is racing. I feel like a fox surround by hounds. I’m a dead man walking. Surely the five Jerries who exited before me will turn around and shoot as they see the flag start changing color. A rocket bursts overhead, and I revise my estimate. Maybe the fickle gods of war will send death down from above instead?

Seconds pass with agonizing slowness as I wait for the colors to change, red to green. Almost… almost...There!


The cheering on the radio drowns the music out, even as I nearly fall out of my chair, the adrenaline backwash leaving me light-headed and weak-kneed.

It’s been maybe three minutes since we started this battle, but I swear it felt more like thirty. I’ve got to be at least ten years older from the stress. Pats on the back over the radio and a hearty “Well Done!” from the General make up for it though. And now the pressure’s off. Well, for us it is, anyway – the Krauts are welcome to stress all they like.

The cheers and congratulations fade instantly in my ears as the new round begins.


I run out of spawn and over the left wall…

Article submitted by Keed.

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