No supply ship for nearly three weeks, not with the flare activity. Word came in from the CP, deep underground, to save charge packs: no more covering fire, no more harassing fire. Every charge is a dead Woolie or we're through. Then the orbital bombing. Not of us; of them. Woolies started approaching our lines to surrender. The pounding must have been absolutely hellacious.
A couple hours after the bombing stopped a 2nd Louie with a clean uniform walked up. "You men are the 7th?"
"The Ninth. We're rescuing you."
"Fuck off, Ninth, we don't need no rescue."