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!
