Burden of Command News

[previewyoutube][/previewyoutube]

[h2]In the finale of our miniseries about the North Africa landings in November of 1942, you are faced with one of your most difficult decisions yet...

You have your mission. The men are ready.

You examine your map...



Your task is not to take the resort itself, but to capture its high-profile German guests. That means you'll have to move quick and avoid alerting your targets. Otherwise, they are sure to escape and disappear into the desert.

There are three options. None are perfect, but you must choose one and commit all you have to it. Now you see what your instructors meant when they told you that the worst decision is indecision.

Life or death. Victory or defeat. Success or failure...

All are in your hands, Captain--And your hands alone.

This is the Burden of Command.[/h2]

[previewyoutube][/previewyoutube]

[h2]
If you've learned one thing in your brief war experience, it's to expect the unexpected.

Your newest mission offers more of the same.

"A hotel?" asks a sergeant.

Your men a surprised as you are.

A private jokes, "Will there be room service?" It brings a laugh from the men. You even allow yourself a grin.

"At ease, Patterson." You regain your bearing. This is still a war...Even if your objective is a luxury resort.

"Listen up, knuckleheads!" First Sergeant Grant barks. That wipes the smiles from the men's faces.



Grant is a good man. You're thankful to have him. It's good to know he always has your back.

"Go ahead, Sir." Grant nods to you.

"Thank you, First Sergeant." You clear your throat. "As I said, our objective is the Hotel Miramar. Our mission is to capture some very important guests..."[/h2]

[previewyoutube][/previewyoutube]

[h2]You enter the town of Fedala at the head of Able Company.

The streets are quiet. There isn't a French soldier in sight. It seems the enemy has no stomach for this fight.

The only signs of life are the occasional glimpses of locals peeking through the windows above and the few denizens walking the narrow, dusty lanes. They seem unfazed by your presence.

Children appear. A few of your men smile at them. That's all it takes.

The youths are soon buzzing around the column like bees in a field of clover, bounding from soldier to soldier, tugging at pant legs and field jackets. The men hand them candy bars, C-rations, and anything other trinkets they have handy.

The scene reminds you of the stories the old timers told about orphans in France begging American Dough Boys for food during the Great War.

Your heart goes out to these poor kids, but you also know this is putting them and your men in danger.

This wasn't in the training manuals.

You have to do something. But what?

Your blood runs cold as you suddenly realize just how unprepared you are for this and whatever else lies ahead.[/h2]

[previewyoutube][/previewyoutube]

[h2]
You lead your men off the beach, thankful to feel solid earth beneath your boots. Whatever waits ahead, at least you're off that infernal Higgins Boat.

As the sun crests the horizon, you spot movement ahead. Your training kicks in again as you and your men hit the dirt.

You reach into your map case and retrieve a set of Army-issued field binoculars. Your eyes strain to make out the figures ahead in the gathering light.

"Infantry." You tell your radio operator. "Some cavalry, too."

You lower the field glasses as fear grips your stomach again.

Dying doesn't scare you as much as the idea of failing your men. Are you up to the task?

The men look to you. You can feel their nervous eyes upon you like a hundred burning spotlights.

It's time to find out what you're made of.

You grab the radio's handset and key the mic. "This is Able Six. All Able elements prepare to attack."
[/h2]