Doldrums

April 29th, 2010. Back from a disastrous road campaign, the down-spiraling, disordered Darger army took up a stark line of defense during a night of swirling consequences in the piercing, un-prevailing winds of Chavez Ravine.
With the molten-hot guns from Steel City circling like vultures, and casualties mounting, General Glory huddled the bandaged, battle-bloodied troops, and stratergized to steady the ship. He gave the command to No.22. The struggling, young bulwark was initially maligned by the meandering misalignment of his missile guidance counsel, and the errant, ill-timed ticks by the central anti-aircraft guns in the opening exchange cost the maturing marksman- and the down and out Dargers- a shot at victory.
    As the battle slew into the cold, exposed hours of the night, the lead rifler and his sniper team were able to keep the invaders at bay, but with little fanfare. For the 5th consecutive outing, the Darger guns were silenced. Without the presence of No.99 on the battlefield, the Darger's mobilized heavy artillery operations have been ground to a halt. L is for Last place.

PASSED TIME (No.11)

Blown Away

April 28th, 2010. On an unnecessary cold and windy battlefront 2,800 miles across the divided homeland, the Dargers on Wednesday put up a last ditch fight against the unyielding Citizen army whom they had come to conquer. In a desperate move by the crippled invaders, the newest recruit, No.48, was thrust into the hostile arena in hopes of creating enough chaotic discourse to allow for an ordered, diversionary withdrawal from the toxic, turbulent Citi of bankers.
   The promising, young rifler took his position in the center of whirlwind war zone, but his inexperience cost him any chance of glory today. The Darger unit is making way for Traffic Town in a state of utter disarray. Intelligence reports coming out of Central Command are showing small signs of squalor and dissent within the inner circling sect of war hawks. L is for "the Winds of War"

Doubled Over

April 27th, 2010. After surrendering a second straight city in as many outings, the humbled Darger army spent all of Monday climbing out of the ashes in Warville, then grumbling north up the main supply road for 240 miles, chasing counter-revolutionary traffic into $tock Citi(sic)for yet another debacle. Once inside the corrupt megalopolis, however, the forces were met with a 24-hour cease-fire.
    So, today, with a little more than 2 extra days removed from combat, an exasperated General Glory ordered his attack hands to throw two successive, head-on investments at the well fortified, state-of-the-art, Citidel(sic). The first assault was led by No.18, and although his charge was struck hard at the outset, he fought a determined fight, but eventually had his horse shot out from him. His fresh-faced replacement was simply overwhelmed in his first call to duty and was forced to lay down his arms. Meanwhile, the Darger artillery units were again held in check. L is for "in like a lamb"
    In the 2nd wave of attack, the oddball dragoon, No.49, was sent in to breach the nouveau riche walls of the Citidel(sic). However, the defenses were wise to the battlefield tricks of the flat-footed musketeer, and they took complete control from the start. Finally, the Darger cannons were able to get back on track and staged a rally that brought the battle to a stalemate until the all too familiar meltdown of the never-ready reserves. Once again, the arms support failed to turn back the counter-attack, and the night ended in a sound defeat for the Darger forces. The down-trodden troops will have to find some way to find the will and firepower to get out of the Citi(sic)alive. L is for "out like a light"

PASSED TIME (No.10)

PASSED TIME (No.9)

Obelisked!

April 25, 2010. With mounting pressure from the home front, and empty hand lobbying from the forward command, the discordant Darger unit was unable to capitalize on the illusive capitol defenses. Again, the Darger heavy artillery failed to breach a single line of the special forces interest groups, the choreographed grassroots movements, or the sniveling, lip-service militias.
   Lost in the early symbolism of the Sunday afternoon, a cult of 33,000 sun worshippers outlined the owlish inroads of the district in a profane parade of Warvillian protectionism. Darger forces book-ended the day's fighting by mounting hard-hitting campaigns, but were ultimately brought down by the enemy's lone psychological operation.
   The new balance of power has rapidly masqueraded into an arms race, and the challenge now falls in the hands of a ragtag group of professional conscripts who are underfoot, limping north into unbridled, urban warfare.
L is for E pluribus nothing.