At the nine-minute mark there came the muffled pops of small arms fire. Marc always hated the waiting. As a captain in the French army, being forced to send his men into the line of fire was forever a torment. It was worse when he knew they might not make it back.

As expected, the initial interaction was short. But that was followed by another and another.  Interactions were far more frequent than with previous clearance operations, this led Marc to form a picture of a massive complex full of ghouls.

“Aerial photography of the area showed no structures within a kilometre,” Marc whispered.

It surprised him how much combat evolved since he first marched in formation into war. If the advent of aerial surveillance and trench warfare proved anything, it was that humankind never passed up an opportunity to kill their fellow man.

This was ironically the ideal war for a vampire. In the past men met on a battlefield and were either defeated or left as the victors. All of it was done under the glory of the sun, where those like him dared not follow.

Now there was night combat, ideal for his kind. They huddled together in trenches that remained in place for months at a time. When they finally break through, I’ll have to stay behind.

Murphy looked over his shoulder at the silhouette against the night sky. Marc waved his signs for the attack to begin.

His second went in with Apples detachment in the first wave. Five minutes later Butter detachment followed, leaving a smaller contingent to provide security along with a manning pool.

They were committing a force of sixty men to the endeavour. If Marc was right, that might just be enough, but that was based on little more than conjecture. We’ve never seen ghoul activity of this intensity.

Two of his teams were assembled at what appeared to be the entrance. Given the sheer potency of the stench, his men wore gas masks.

It was preferable by far to lose some peripheral vision over being attacked while they evacuated the contents of their stomachs. That’s also why they were always in groups of three, to mitigate the risks.

The man of war felt they missed something. Ghouls were known for their network of tunnels, but a large underground complex of this size was unprecedented. Give them a hammer and they’ll try to cave your head in with it.

Marc stood atop a ridge, overlooking their front lines. He heard the guns going off behind him. In the distance there were bright flashes of light, followed by a thunderous sound several seconds later. The Krauts won’t be getting a good night’s sleep tonight.

The artillery tonight was purposeful, a way to ensure there would be no incursions along their lines. All because there were reports of unusual activity near their old lines.

While that was not unusual, there were specific statements made of a smell that defied comprehension. Given they were in No Man’s Land, such a scent served as a potent clue. Ghouls.