Berlin in September was cold to begin with, and Vortex had never known it to be any other way. But something about this particular day sent chills through the young soldier – maybe it was the unusually stiff northerly wind that was blowing. Maybe it was the knowledge that, in a few short hours, the European Union Army (dubbed the “Allies” by some of the brass whose optimism was greater) would be withdrawing from this once-great city in an effort to stave off total elimination at the hands of the Pacific-Asian Coalition Army.

Things had been a mess since the vicious defeat at Belgrade. The Allied forces had been in a near-continuous retreat since that battle. Flights of gunships had harried Allied forces on their march and many units, including Vortex’s own 8th Mercenaries Division, were badly scattered from both the battle and the retreat. Vortex had found himself assigned by the local commander to the defense of one of Berlin’s northern neighborhoods, in command of a squad of members who he had never seen before in his life. The squad was far quieter than those he had led in the 8th Mercs, and Vortex missed the chatter and talk that had provided a welcome distraction from the stresses of battle.

With that distraction gone, he could only focus on the map of the area he had been assigned to help defend. An ice wall lay to the north, preventing any significant flanking maneuvers from taking shape. To the south, a series of buildings provided a natural hindrance, forcing the enemy to funnel in. This was probably why Allied Command had picked this area as a delaying point – if the enemy could be held here thousands of soldiers could be evacuated to secondary bases in France or Africa.

An alarm on his communications device warned Vortex that the enemy was approaching and he quickly rallied his troops. He had only gotten to know the callsign of one of his squad members – a man by the name of Faiv who had come from a different army group entirely – a group known as the MG Army Group. Most of his squad was loaded down in assault kits complete with med and revive packs – things that Vortex knew would be vital in the upcoming battle.

Quickly he cycled through the view on his HUD, ordering his squad to the northern periphery to keep the enemy off guard. It had been his expectation that the enemy would try to push hard over a smaller ice wall to their east and then move north, sticking near the ice wall in an attempt to gain the rear of the Allied forces and encircle them. Two of his soldiers had come equipped with HMGs or LMGs and sentry drones or infantry detectors – Vortex quickly tasked them to set up shop and cover the primary approach. The rest of the squad he signaled to fall back behind them a ways, to lay a trap for the enemy.

It was only a mere few minutes later when the first enemies appeared over the wall, preceded by grenades and rockets as a snowstorm would be preceded by a howling wind. Eyes never wavering from his HUD, Vortex watched as his squad and another moved to contain the enemies who were filtering through. Bullets whizzed through the air and the explosions of rockets and grenades echoed off the buildings in a gathering crescendo before the whole place erupted in a hail of explosive shells. The PAC commander, it seemed, had taken note of the containment and was bringing the big orbital satellite weapons platforms to bear.

Coolly, remembering his training, Vortex pulled his squad back under the cover of buildings, waiting for the satellites to pass beyond their point of engagement. As the thundering tapered off, Vortex could see the enemy gathering in the center – the funnel point – and he wheeled his squad to the right to stop the enemy from gaining a foothold at that point. Soldiers around him began dropping as the enemy returned fire, and Vortex could hear the cries for medics and mothers from the Allied soldiers.

The PAC forces were relentless in their pressure, and to his consternation Vortex found the army gradually falling back. Tenaciously he clung to that northern area, fending off enemy attacks that would rip the flanks apart and encircle the army. As they fell back he could feel the enemy’s strength gathering as they pushed onwards, undaunted by the staggering losses they had suffered. A small group of enemy soldiers penetrated the center of the line, driving back to an ugly statue that had been erected god-knows when, and with their movement the entire Allied line staggered and collapsed, reforming at the Outpost – the last bastion of defense for the Allied forces.

The northern side had quickly become swamped with snipers and rocket launchers, and Vortex knew that the death toll for the Allies was only mounting. Begrudgingly he pulled his squad back, contesting every inch of ground. At last he was forced to withdraw his squad back to the Outpost proper and set up a new line. A building directly to the east provided a good spot to watch over the northern flank; but when Vortex and his squad arrived they found the place swarming with enemies.

It took several attempts before he and his squad managed their breakthrough, and they quickly began raining down fire on the exposed enemy soldiers to the north. But a fresh burst of fire from the south caught Vortex’s attention and his squad shifted that way, only to run into a fusillade of grenade and rocket fire as enemy soldiers targeted the bastion of defenders in the building.

With losses mounting and soldiers around him going down, Vortex contemplated making a suicide charge into the heart of the enemy. He knew that they had bought precious time for the rest of the army, but the fight was still tenacious and could go either way. Preparing his men, Vortex gathered them at a stairwell, readying them for the charge that would, he hoped, break the enemy’s hold on the southern flank and give the army the last seconds it needed.

On a hand signal they moved as a unit, Vortex leading the charge. They had covered only a few dozen feet when the bullet impacts slammed into Vortex, dropping him to the ground along with the rest of his squad. As consciousness faded, to be replaced with the welcome darkness, he could hear Allied Command over his com-set, ordering the rest of the army to surrender. It had not been enough. The PAC had won.

(Infantry only Berlin last night, played as EU side. One of the nastiest matches ever and the EU lost 2-0. It was a very intense round and a very good round. I wanted to write an AAR in the style of an actual battle scene and try to make it realistic and stick to a certain perspective. I hope you enjoy.)