Hell is a Battlefield on Earth

Chapter 1

The snow flew through the air, it was a huge blizzard at the main Anchorage base. Wind tore through soldiers clothes and thin armour, causing them to stay inside to keep warm. The blizzard had been going on for a day or two, and didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. Soldiers sat in their tents, with little to stop the powerful wind breaking in through the thin walls. Boxes and anything not nailed down, flew through the air, and rolled across the ground, feet from where they rested before. The only insulated place, was the commanding head-quarters where all the front line commanders looked over a map of Alaska, planning attacks.

Some soldiers took refuge inside the HQ, warming their hands over a kerosine lantern or small isolated fire. For all the front line soldiers, the fighting was halted. All operations were put on hold until the storm cleared, and they could get supplies up to the front lines. New "green" soldiers were still being trucked in from all across the US, and were given a rifle and some where to sleep. They were told where to find some food if they were hungry, and then were released to the elements. In the mess hall, the cooks kept the stoves and burners on, trying to keep the place warm enough so the soup wouldn't feeze solid. Everyone wished the storm would be over, everyone figured that the Chinese who lived in a humid and dry climate, would surrender once this blizzard was through, and maybe they could all go home.

Sergeant Tom Adams, a regular grunt in the US Army, sat with his squad mates in the mess hall, trying to keep warm. They were to cold to reach their tents, so they decided to stick in the mess hall for the night. Along with everyone else there.

"Hey Sergeant, when this storm blows over, are we going out on the front again?" Private Daniels asked shivering, and putting his hands under his arms. His face was pale white, and his lips seemed like they were going to go blue. He shivered franticly, his friends beside him trying to keep him warm.

"I don't know Daniels, but if we do. You'll be the first to know." Tom said shivering as well. Tom had grown up in sunny California, and wasn't used to the cold like this. In San Diego, it got cold and foggy, but nothing like this. It never snowed in San Diego, so it was surprising how well he stood up to the elements. He was a tall man, about five foot-ten. He had short blonde hair that was mangled, giving him a surfer look. His skin was like a mild bronze. It was very unusual for someone know living in a cold enviroment, he was also very muscular. Not over the top muscular, but his muscle tone was noticable. Tom was a good guy, he helped his soldiers when need be, and was always watching over them during a battle. They respected him, and would follow him into any situation that he led them into. The raido man, "Sparky", was from Florida, but didn't have as bronze a skin tone like Tom. He was also muscular, just like the others in the squad. They had to be when they were lumbering around in their Power Armour. Sparky tried eating his soup, but it was beginning to freeze on him. His spoon picked up small frozen pieces of soup, they acted more like ice cubes, making the soup freeze even faster. 

Suddenly, Tom spotted a huge eruption of foot traffic, in and out of the HQ building. Non-combatants ran in and out of the building, holding papers and different things in their hands, and under their arms. The blizzard made it hard to see, but not like the other day when you couldn't see ten feet in front of you. As the squad, and other soldiers in the mess hall began to look towards the HQ building, alarms began to sound. They were loud and whinning, they just kept going and going. Tom quickly realized with the rest of the base, an air raid was coming. The whole camp erupted into a frenzy of soldiers trying to get their armour and weapons. The wounded were taken into the HQ where a underground bunker lay, to protect the commanders and wounded. 

Tom and the squad rushed out of the mess hall, quickly breaking apart to their tents. People who were off duty, and were sleeping or trying to sleep, ran across the base in just some long johns, and held their weapons, rushing to get suited up. The T-51b power armour was like being a knight in the Middle Ages. It was difficult to get in it alone, it was not impossible but just difficult, so someone was assigned to assist the wearer into it. Tom reached his tent, grabbing for his rifle, and extra pair of clothing that he quickly slipped into. Now he was wearing two pair of clothes, and his own pair of long johns underneath. 

The sirens whined and whined as order over the bases intercom system, crackled to life. The man's voice was sort of brutish and tough, though the man was probably a non-combatant.

"All soldiers report to battle stations immediatly, all wounded and sick are to report to the bunker inside the HQ. I repeat, All soldiers report to battle stations immediatly, all wounded and sick are to report to the bunker inside the HQ, this could be it folks!" The man said cutting off the intercom. Tom was shocked, what exactly was happening. He couldn't hear anything, no engine noises or sounds of tanks rolling in the distance or over head. But he couldn't think on that right now, he quickly ran out of his tent and to where his armour waited for him. His assistant, Private Dellwar, was waiting for him. He was suited up in typical powder blue combat armour, and had his helmet on just to be safe.

"What the hell is happening Dellwar?" Tom asked, resting his things at the side of the suit of armour. The young man just stared at him. Tom's armour was a solid white color, giving him a good sense of camoflage.

"I'm not sure, I thought you'd know sir?"

"Damn Red's! When will they learn to take a break?" Tom said, his voice thundering in the blowing snow and wind. Dellwar quickly assisted Tom into his armour, the sirens continuing to whine over and over. As Tom fitted himself into the suit, and placed his helmet on, the sound of engines began to creep up on them from behind. They sounded like jets, yes that is exactly what they were. Tom could not see them, but heard them as they roared over head. He did not know if they were Chinese or American jets, but he took them as American.

"O.K. sir, your ready. Hurry to your station!" Dellwar said patting him on the shoulder and handing him his weapons. Tom smiled under his helmet, and hurried to his battle position. The suit gave him a two foot hight difference than before he put the suit on. He felt invincible, like nothing the Chinese threw at them would get him or his squad, who was also clad in Power Armour. The small trench came into sight, Tom spotted the squad already in their positions. Two of the squad members, Patrick and Steve were on their .50 caliber machine-guns, ready to take on what could be coming. The others rested their rifles on the edge, aiming through their gun ports that went into little mounds of dirt and snow, giving them sufficient protection and firing space.

"Where the hell were you?" Sparky asked acting like he was angry at Tom. 

"I had to get suited up! I couldn't come out here dressed the way I was?" Tom said acting angry in return. Both of them chuckled, and returned to their duties. Tom looked at the horizon, seeing nothing but blinding snow, luckly the visor on their helmets had a anti-glare covering on them. It was like a solid lens from some sunglasses. They changed with the light as well, which was cool to the "green's" who were fitted with the power armour. 

"What's the situation so far?" Tom asked looking at the squad.

"Not much at all, just some snow causing us trouble. I tried showing it who's boss, but it just keeps coming back!" Steve said chuckling under his helmet. The squad chuckled a bit as well, and returned to all seriousness, "But seriously, nothing at all. Maybe its just a drill?" Steve said resting his body inside the suit.

"I don't think so, Steve, didn't you hear the jets fly over head. Something big is happening?" Tom said pointing towards where he heard the jets trail off to.

"Oh yeah, we saw them. Some F-80's and F-86's flew over head, I couldn't tell whether they mean't business or not. They were flying to fast." Sparky replied pointing towards the sky, and following a contrail the jets had left behind them. 

"What do you think's happening up there?" Tom asked, looking up at the contrails that Sparky pointed at.

"Maybe a bombing run, or maybe an intercept?" Tom thought for a moment, looking towards the front lines, that were just a few miles away. The sirens quieted, and Tom could finally hear himself think properly. The squad was on the look out, Sparky's radio crackled with talk, but the blizzard screwed up with the transmission, so it was mostly unable to be made out. The squad stood their, watching the blizzard blow snow all around them. It was setteling down a bit, and you could see farther than before. The sky was much better, you could actually see the coulds higher in the sky, not just he storm clouds.

Suddenly the roaring sound of engines echoed through the air once again. This time it wasn't the sound of a turbine, but radial. The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere. Tom looked up with the rest of the squad, and spotted a formation of atleast five or six twin engined bombers flying over head. They were high in the sky, high enough they were making contrails. There were four formations of the six radial engined bombers. They seemed to be heading south, that was not a good thing. But suddenly, the sound of jets came roaring over head. This time they were much lower, and Tom recongnized them as F-80's and F-86's. 

"There they go, get those commie bastards!" Tom said raising his rifle in the air. The jets quickly broke from their tangent line, and began to make a fast climb to the bomber formations. There were three formations of fighters, seven in each. The climbed and climbed. The whole base watched in excitement as the fighters reached the formations of bombers, and began tearing into them. Tom watched in excitement as one of the fighters tore into a bomber, hitting its left engine. The bomber began to decend, loosing altitude quickly. Before anyone could blink, three more bombers had been shot down. The first one that Tom watched, exploded into the ground a few miles off. He could see the smoke just barely through the blizzard. Whatever was going on, the Chinese had the jump on them, and the commanders would have to make some quick decisions.