I was messing around with the way back machine, and found this battle report from my old Multiply.com site. It's a fiercely fought battle between my 6th Brandenburgers and Orks, sometime in 2010 (that's Fifth Ed right?).
I had a good read, and thought you might enjoy it too. I do remember the battle - it was super bloody involving 2 horde armies, and out of hundreds on each side, only handfuls remain:
Captain Tillman lowered his binoculars and calmly issued the final orders for his men to make ready for combat. He did not need any visual aid to know that the ork horde is upon them and will contact in a matter of minutes. His scouts had counted some 110 greenskins, including a whole mob on their noisy bikes and the contraption the xenos call trukks. Against this, his 3rd company arrayed 108 men in 3 platoons, including Commissars Busso and Kastner lending their unshakeable faith to 1st and 2nd platoons respectively. The two Leman Russ Demolishers, Basilisk and Manticore from divisional support were also a welcome boost. The three ancient relics that he had been ordered to retrieve must not fall into xenos hands. His assault grenadiers have no choice but to defeat the xenos and cleanse the field of them.
The position he had chosen was strong, with nearly all his force concentrated on the right flank. The assault grenadiers of 1st and 2nd platoons massed to the fore of his position, anchored against some ancient ruins, with the Demolishers holding the extreme right. The ruins themselves were occupied by 3rd platoon, lascannons at the ready. The missile launchers of 2nd platoon’s heavy weapons squad were occupying a small hill to the left of the main position, somewhat unsupported but with an excellent field of fire. Tillman sited his Manticore in the extreme right behind the safety of the ruins, and the Basilisk in the extreme left of the field in an attempt to bait the xenos into splitting their forces.
The oncoming greenskins spread the breadth of the battlefield, slugga boyz blanketing the field from left to right. Behind and to the left of the wooded ruins was a sizeable mob of nob bikers, and to the right of the same wooded ruins was the rattling trukk, belching thick brownish black smoke. The ground started to shake amidst the deep rumble of massed xenos iron-shod boots. Breathing a quick prayer of faith, Tillman bellowed into his micro-bead, “Here they come! Steady Brandenburgers! For the Emperor!”
Like a surging tide, the orks bounded forward towards the Imperial line. On the left flank, the bikers gunned their engines and sped straight towards the Basilisk at breakneck speed. On the other flank, the trukk did much the same, bumping across country at dangerous velocity, then swinging ninety-degrees into a skidding stop. Led by a bellowing warboss, the huge frames of ork nobs poured out of the vehicle with unnatural agility and charged straight into 1st and 2nd platoons. Tillman couldn’t help but sneer at the xenos’ audacity of ten of their number taking on more than 60 of the Emperor’s finest in hand-to-hand combat. The greenskins’ fearsome great weapons and power-klaws cut many of his men down, but the Brandenburgers gave back as well as they got, and seriously bloodied all but the xenos’ medic, who somehow escaped injury.
To the right of the melee, a huge mob of 30 slugga boyz stormed straight towards 3rd platoon’s position. Seizing the moment, Lieutenant Trierenberg’s 2nd platoon command squad and the 20 men of 3rd platoon advanced into rapid-fire range. Trierenberg shouted “First rank fire! Second rank fire!” and they opened fire in disciplined rapid-firing volleys, shredding the greenskins into ribbons. Tillman saw this, and ordered Sergeant Windmann’s Demolishers and Lieutenant Weigel, OC 3rd platoon to join in the enfilade, and immediately the deafening boom of the tanks’ fearsome demolisher cannons and ripping roar of their heavy bolters joined in the cacophony of death.
Only seven orks emerged from the dust of the explosions, and they threw themselves straight into Trierenberg and his squad, easily cutting them down with choppas and blunt objects. The orks’ leader went straight for the Demolishers, miraculously doing them no harm despite his snapping power-klaws (auto-hit, four 1’s to pen). This was the only chance this mob got and they were subsequently wiped out by massed lasgun volleys from 3rd platoon.
The melee between the ork warboss’ nob retinue and 1st and 2nd platoons was not going well for the xenos. While many good Brandenburgers were killed, the weight of numbers began to tell, and one by one the nobs were being skewered by bayonet, saber, power weapon and power fist. The ork leader had no choice and called his Waaarrghhh! Bellowing at the top of their corrupted xenos lungs, the massed orks picked up their already fast momentum and poured forwards with renewed vigor. A fresh slugga boyz mob piled into the on-going melee, thankfully not doing too much damage, while the mass of orks from the left rushed forwards towards the main fight.
The nob bikers broke off from their interception course with the Basilisk and swung towards the right flank at full speed, impatiently intent on getting into the thick of the swirling melee. Tillman spotted this and ordered all available guns on them. The Manticore fired first, its rocket arcing in a low trajectory before its multiple warheads landed amidst the nob bikers in three great explosions of fire and dust. The Basilisk rolled steadily forwards, its tremendous Earthshaker cannon barking and throwing hi-ex death into the middle of the nob bikers. Sergeant Windmann gave an order into his microbead, and as one his Demolisher squadron lurched forwards and swung left to bring weapons to bear on the nob bikers, huge cannon belching fire and the resulting explosions scattering the nob bikers further. 2nd platoon’s heavy weapons squad joined in the mayhem and loosed deadly krak missiles into the bikers, the missile contrails snaking menacingly into the bikers’ positions.
Out of the smoke and fire of the Imperials’ concentrated firepower, three surviving bikers led by the biker warboss roared straight into the melee. They were too late to save their nob kin, who were mercilessly cut down by the intrepid Brandenburg assault grenadiers, the trukk warboss being last to go down. The relieving slugga boyz mob were themselves having a difficult time holding down their supposedly-puny human opponents in the close-combat and many orks were slain, though the human infantry’s numbers were thinned down to only a handful. But the fury of the surviving bikers’ charge was enough to tip the balance, and as the assault grenadiers’ numbers dwindled, 1st platoon ceased to exist. Commissar Busso was swinging his power-axe in silent fury, his fine commissar uniform and cap slick with xenos blood, and was about to turn to face a nob biker when a large-caliber big shoota shell slammed into his face at point-blank range. Two meters away, Commissar Kastner’s crackling powerfist had just smashed into the chest of a xenos warrior, lodging deep into the creature, but before he could remove his weapon from the body a nob powerklaw cut him in two. The three remaining survivors of 2nd platoon had no choice but to fall back, successfully eluding the blood-crazed orks.
The so far unblooded ork slugga boyz from the left flank finally arrived at the sharp end of the battle. With unbridled ferocity, the mob bounded across open ground and up the small hill where 2nd platoon’s heavy weapons squad were sited. The squad could only turn and let loose a single volley before the xenos horde was upon them. The fight was completely one-sided, and in a matter of seconds the xenos warriors were shrieking their foul language in celebration as some of their warriors swung captured Imperial missile launchers in the air, precariously balancing stacks of krak missiles on top of each other in a mad show of glee.
Captain Tillman witnessed the destruction of his 1st and 2nd platoons with a cold calm, without any hint of surprise or alarm. He had been silently keeping tabs of the battle, and so far the losses were about even in terms of the sheer number of warriors slain on each side. But he had the tactical advantage of reserves, in the form of 3rd platoon, and mobile fire support from his tanks. He waited until the retreating remnants of 2nd platoon was in shouting distance before projecting his voice across the field, “Sergeant Reichelt! Get back in the fight!” The grizzled veteran sergeant simply nodded and held up his hand to halt his squad’s retreat, and they turned around to face the enemy once again, weapons at the ready.
The handful of surviving orks and nob bikers from the huge melee that had cut down 1st and 2nd platoons would need to be dealt with decisively. Captain Tillman ordered 3rd platoon to fix bayonets and advance, and gave the order for disciplined ranked las-fire. He himself shouldered his ancient lasgun, took aim and steadily squeezed the trigger, felling a xenos warrior. Sergeant Windmann’s Demolishers were called to the fore, rolling forwards with the impudence only unchallenged Imperial armor could ever show. Once again, the great demolisher cannons spoke and fiery orange explosions blossomed amidst the nob bikers, incinerating one of them. Sadly, the blast was so close to Sergeant Reichelt’s survivors that it caught his meltagunner full in the chest, and the unlucky guardsman fell in a smoldering heap. The Basilisk, still advancing towards the enemy lines, lent its high explosive weight into the fire, obliterating even more xenos.
By the time the dust settled, only the bike warboss remained standing, and even then was badly injured. He roared out in anger and frustration and gunned his bike towards the Manticore, one of the many objects of his hatred. The hapless Manticore crew could only fire their last missile, whose warheads impacted amidst the remaining slugga boyz mob with fearsome effectiveness. That was to be their last act, and within moments the crazed warboss was upon the warmachine, its oversized powerklaws slicing the Imperial armor like so much cardboard and paper, and the proud machine soon caught fire and ceased to function.
The loss mattered not to Tillman, and with his characteristic calculative calm, ordered 3rd platoon forwards in an all-out rush for the nearest ancient relic. “Move! Move! Move!” he demanded, and the mass of Imperial manhood ran forwards as fast as their tired legs would carry them. Tillman and his command squad led the advance, the company banner flying proudly amidst the smoke of battle. He ordered Lieutenant Weigel’s platoon command squad to focus fire on the remaining xenos warboss, and the combined lasgun, lascannon and plasma rifle fire easily put the beast down.
There remained only the matter of the 25 or so orks from the last surviving slugga boyz mob. The Basilisk advanced steadily towards another of the ancient relics, even as its Earthshaker spat flame, sending a hi-ex shell into the middle of the mob and scattering many xenos limbs high into the air. Windmann’s Demolishers, untiring, advanced relentlessly from the right to close the trap as they too opened fire sending fearsome demolisher shells and a hail of large-caliber heavy bolter shells into the xenos.
The beleaguered orks milled around aimlessly and finally spread out in order to lay claim to two of the ancient relics, but in so doing denied themselves of much of the available cover. Captain Tillman was not impressed, and even as he pressed his 3rd platoon forwards and claimed an ancient relic, he ordered the Basilisk to advance at full speed straight into the xenos in order to scatter their grubby hands away from the Emperor’s ancient relic. Windmann’s merciless Demolishers once again came into their own, the booming demolisher cannons and roaring heavy bolters pouring great plumes of death amidst the xenos. As the mayhem subsided, only five orks remained standing, and after a moment of bewilderment at their violent fate the xenos warriors turned and ran off the field.
Imperium Victor! Ave Imperator!