The Mini-burger

FanFic in the Birmoverse

Sur la Plage Part 1: Insertion by Chaz

Sur la Plage

Part 1: Insertion


April 2003


The camouflaged AS532 Cougar scudded low over the acid rain bleached fields bordering the Loire estuary. Nantes smoke blackened skyline faded into the springs early dusk. Normally at this time of year the evening would be warm and long. Now the ever present thick poisonous cloud cover cast an overbearing pall over the countryside.


Carl rested his head against the throbbing fuselage of the chopper, thinking of the team’s recent foray into the no-mans land of Nantes. The forces of First Citizen Sarkozy and ‘les Loyalistes’ had battled over the strategic (and historic city) for over a fortnight now with no real gain on either side. Increasingly his R.A.I.D. team (Groupe D’Intervention Deux) had found themselves pitted against a team from the Gendarmerie Nationals’ elite GIGN. The last clash on the route leading to the now ruined airport had left the team short of two men. One of whom was the team leader Lieutenant Gerard Juppé. Lt Gerard had died in the field hospital whilst the team were receiving their latest mission briefing and it fell to Carl as the Chef to see things through.


Checking over the team he could see Philippe, the baby of the team (at only 28) looking at a dog-eared photo of his wife. She had been on holiday with her parents when the world was turned on its head and the USA had effectively ceased to exist. He noticed Philippe gently touch the image of his wife’s face before placing the picture in his black  BDU’s and start re-checking his gear. Philippe along with the other dead team member Christoff were the team’s scouts and this would put added pressure on the young man to perform.


Seated next to Philippe, Alan and Jules the teams’ designated snipers were also checking their gear and trying to talk over the sound of the rotors. Alain the older of the two probably still trying to convince Jules of the advantages of marriage, well after all he was in the throws of the end of his second. Considering all the shit going on in the world Carl thought that Alan would be better of trying to stay with Claudette especially as her family owned a farm outside of Limoges.


Andre and Alexander the two heavy weapon specialists sat opposite each other. Andre was asleep and Alex was throwing little rolled up pieces of paper into the sleepers lap. This was quite genteel compared with the usual level of practical jokes the two played not only on each other but on the other members of the team.


Across from Carl, Charles the lanky Parisian from the 16th was listening to his iPod, arguably the teams best pistol shot he was also a classical pianist by training and to this day Carl could not understand why Charles had joined the Police National. Next to him sat Simon the teams’ entry specialist who leant across towards Carl.


“Chef, couldn’t they have just got the air force to run a strike?”


“Apparently not, it seems that they can’t guarantee a strike package to be around. The Atlantique that’s shadowing the boat is out of antiship weapons. So we’ve got to make sure no-one jumps ship.” Replied Carl


“Do you think that’s why those bastards from Satory have gone there to welcome whoever is on the ship, ashore? Couldn’t they have got a tank group to help out?”


“Simon, there’s no-one else around” said Carl with a small sigh “It’s just us, but we won’t fail eh?”


‘Oui Chef, server sans faillir” said Simon.


The sound of the units’ motto broke into the reverie of the others and they all chanted


“Oui Chef! Server sans Faillir!”


The chant broke through the crust of scar tissue that the weeks of combat and the loss of their team leader had built up. For the first time in over a fortnight Carl could see something more than resigned fate in their eyes.


The intercom buzzed and the internal lights turned red.


Carl stood up


“Okay my friends, we are five minutes out. Get your gear in final readiness. Remember if these are the same team that cost us the lieutenant and Christoff, we don’t need any baggage”


“Oui Chef” roared back the team as they started to make their final equipment checks.


The next few minutes flew by and the chopper made a number of direction changes to confuse any watchers on the ground. It finally flared out landing softly next to the small parc at the junction of Ave du Baulois and Chenin du pont Saillant. The team disembarked quickly and the chopper quickly departed. Once the rotor washed had lessened the team formed an elongated diamond pattern whilst Philippe cleared the way onto the railway line.


The cloud cover meant that the evening was dark and brooding with little in the way of birdsong or insect noises that you would associate with this coastal region. Only the lease and rear team members equipped their PNVG’s as there was still enough light to march to. So slowly and carefully the team made their way down the track to La Baule.


The march seemed to take for ever even though at 10kms it would take just only a couple of hours. Even in the darkness the damage caused by the wave of pollution carried by the jet stream form the United States was clear. Trees that should now be covered in bright leaves were barren husks. The grass should have been dark but were almost a pale imitation so pale in fact that it almost glowed in the darkness. As the team silently passed by the Parc des Dryades it looked like a scene from Bergman’s “Seventh Seal”


Suddenly heavy gunfire could be heard to the north, causing the team to freeze and fade into the background as best they could. The odd roar of a cannon (whether artillery or form a tank it was uncertain), counter pointed the rattle of smaller calibre weaponry.


Alan whispered in Carl’s ear

“Regular army?”

Carl shoke his head

“It sounds like it’s coming from Guérande, I think there were reports of some deserters from l‘Armee de Terre holed up there, so maybe they’ve been assaulted by the GN armoured units. Anyway it’s nothing to do with us let’s move on”


He carefully made his way over to Philippe.

“Philippe, be extra cautious, if there are deserters in the area it will make our job harder” he whispered

“Oui Chef” replied the young agent, Carl patted him on the shoulder and the team restarted their march into the town.


It was close to 22:00 hrs by the time the men came close to the railway station, a cold wind was coming off the Atlantic rushing down the town’s streets cooling the men’s now sweaty BDU’s making them even more uncomfortable. Alexander was half turning to keep his Minimi SPW trained on the upper floor of the four storey house across the tracks when there was a flat crack and there was a spray of arterial blood as a high velocity bullet ripped out his throat.


As the tall southerner dropped to his knees a raged fusillade of gun fire started to rain in on the team. As far as Carl and his mean could tell all the shots were coming form the station. The GIGN team returned fire as best they could from what was a lower and quite poor position. Coming in was mainly FAMAS gun fire with some 9mm rounds and a few 7.62 shots that could have been coming from a semi automatic rifle due to rapidity of the shots. The outgoing fire was placed in short bursts with the team relying on their night vision gear to maintain accuracy.


The team had quickly dropped to the sides of the rail line trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible amongst the straggly weeds and the usual detritus you find on railway lines everywhere. Alan and Jules managed to get themselves behind a pile of concrete sleepers and started to unship their rifles.


Carl understood that they had to keep the pressure on whoever was ambushing them, so he waved forward his men, then suddenly realising that that marked him out, just as many of the shots suddenly seemed to be coming his way!


Charles, Philippe and Simon used that change in priorities to make a flanking manoeuvre to the left and the carpark fence (which was pretty wrecked). Philippe and Simon got through and easily merged with the burnt out car wrecks that dotted the car park. Charles however was obviously seen just as he tried to get through, and a hail of automatic fire reached towards him. It was not a good time to get caught on the fencing, and sensing that he was done for; Charles flipped his G36 onto full auto and emptied the assault rifles magazine towards the stations windows just as two streams of FAMAS fire caught him. The hail of bullets slammed him against the wire fencing entangling him further, leaving him to flap weakly as his blood pooled around him.


By now Jules and Alan had unshipped their rifles and .50 and .338 sniper fire was accurately targeting their opposition resulting in a dramatic falling off of incoming fire. Relived that he was no longer the centre of attention Carl realised that he had no idea where all his men were or what some of them were doing. Cursing he switched on his comms gear.

“…careful he’s looking out..he’s gone.. move to by the fire hose”

“Got it, I’m here, I’ve got the whole front covered you can move up”

Recognising Philippe and Simons voices

“Boy’s what going on?”

“Chef keep you voice down!” replied Simon “You’re worse than my mother!”

There was a chuckle Philippe answered

“We’re at the front boss getting ready to breach. Looks like three of them left.”

Before Carl could command them to hold

“Okay we’re both here, breaching now the bastard’s will pay”

Two frag grenade blasts roared out form the ground floor of the station, the flashes almost overriding the gain controls of the teams PNVG’s

There were three more bursts of automatic fire then silence.

Philippe’s voice came over the comms.

“All clear, come on in”


Cautiously the remaining members of the team entered into the station. Never the prettiest of buildings la Baule’s station was now a semi ruin embellished with the ruinous effect of modern firearms. The ticket hall stank of blood, shit and cordite. The small café and station offices were in similar poor condition. It did not take long to police the site and without being ordered the two snipers had taken positions to cover the area. The dead quickly gave up their secrets and it seemed that their attackers had been deserters. They recovered 3 FAMAS, a MP5, an old MAT SMG and two MAS-49’s which should have been in a museum. 


The rest of the team gathered together in the station office.

“Right this is not good, we’ve lost Charles and Alexander to these losers, but we’ve got to push on to the deployment site. It’s only a couple of hundred meters down the Avenue De Lattre De Tassigny.”

He paused awaiting the expected response which came from Simon

“Can’t we just request evac?”

“Simon you know the answer better than I do, no evac for at least another 6 hours, I want you and Philippe to collect any ammo we can use and head to the DP. Andre and I will secure Charles and Alexander’s bodies. Alan will go with you and Philippe to secure the DP. Jules can supply Andre and I with overwatch then we’ll come to the DP.”

Carl let out a short hollow laugh.

“Before I forget again keep you’re comms on we’ll use channel 7, let move so we can get some rest before the next data dump.”


The first half of the team took only 10 minutes to get ready and then they were off moving down the road to the Hotel des Dunes. It took Carl and Andre longer to find a storeroom that they could secure placed the corpses of their dead comrades plus the weapons recovered form the deserters, and then booby trap the place. Then shouldering Charles’ G36 and Alexanders LMG as well as their spare ammo, Carl Andre and Jules slowly made their way down the Avenue De Lattre De Tassigny passing in front of the Hotel Marini whose white faced was now severely blackened from the fire which had wrecked it.


The DP was quickly set up in the 2nd floor of the Hotel des Dunes and they were only 30 minutes behind schedule. The data dump from their HQ at Bievres came in 25 minutes later.


To be continued……


13 March, 2009 - Posted by | Without Warning


  1. From: Moko
    Date: 10/07/08
    Donnez-moi davantage!

    (total Babelfish translator lol)

    From: HAVOCK21
    Date: 10/07/08
    s they say, some great people quietly go about their business in the background, waging great battles and altering the course of, or making history. Notice how, I never once, put up a post to SAY…I HAVE MY ADVANCE COPY…NEVER. NOY ONCE…

    good stuff

    From: Birmo
    Date: 10/07/08
    Yes, it is great. I love these fan fics because it’s like I get to look into secret chapters of the book. I can’t help but imagine Caitlin spooking around somewhere in back of all this.

    From: RhinoRog
    Date: 10/07/08

    Nicely done … now get on the next part of this.


    P.S. O.T. but why the hell are the comments set to be flush to the right margin? What the hell.

    From: SFMurphy
    Date: 10/07/08
    Great start. Looking forward to more.

    Northtown, Missouri

    From: Brian Allen
    Date: 10/07/08
    ‘P.S. O.T. but why the hell are the comments set to be flush to the right margin? What the hell.’

    Are your left leaning tendencies starting to show through?

    brian exits through window.

    From: Therbs
    Date: 10/07/08
    First one up – well done. Keep it cracking!

    From: Chaz
    Date: 10/07/08
    Of course it always help knowing the place you’re writing about…

    From: RhinoRog
    Date: 10/07/08
    Brian … I lean so far to the right that I make Genghis Khan look like Mao.


    From: Brian Allen
    Date: 10/07/08
    Chaz. Like your work. The acid rain/ weather thing bothers me. Not sure why. The timing of it I guess. Not sure about the prevailing winds impacting France. Seem to remember reading that most acid rain gets pushed North into the Baltic. But . . .we are talking about the weather and it is the ultimate butterfly event. Perhaps something to accentuate the uncertainty of weather forecasting.

    Rhino : Don’t bend too far. Jinghiz Kratman wwill rip your ghoulies off if you get in his perssonnal space.

    From: Chaz
    Date: 10/07/08
    Brian, Just following what the scribe wrote!

    Also la Baule does get hit by stuff from the atlantic. I suppose it’s mainly what gets pushed up to the jet stream level and pushed accross the pond (any meterologits out there?)

    From: Jaden3
    Date: 10/07/08
    Nice one Chaz.. Spotted a couple of spelling errors in there, and also just after Alexander gets killed by the sniper, you have the GIGN team returning fire, when it should be the RAID team, right?

    From: Chaz
    Date: 10/08/08
    Jaden bloody hell you’re right! have a silver star no-one else noticed it! Even Havock!!!

    Part two is moving along may be finished by the weekend.

    From: MickH
    Date: 10/11/08
    I know it’s a linguistic thing Chaz but spelling Chef as Chief is hilarious and destracting. I keep thinking the team is being lead by Gordon Ramsey!


    Nice work by the way.

    From: Chaz
    Date: 10/12/08
    Mick, what the f$%^king hell do you mean?

    Yep the thing is I’m writing it as I thinking it and whilst the dialogues not been fully thought of in french (as that would be terribly pretencious) a fair amount of it is being constructed as if french people are speaking..

    Got no work done over the weekend so I’ll try and have it doen by the end of this week.

    From: MickH
    Date: 10/15/08
    I don’t mean anything by it Chaz I was just being honest.

    Every time I read “Oui Chef” I’d see the team with cooks hats on. I couldn’t help it! 🙂

    Apart from that, I really enjoyed the story.

    From: Chaz
    Date: 10/27/08
    Mick just channeling my inner Ramsey!

    Comment by miniburger | 13 March, 2009 | Reply

  2. and it was better again on this read through Chaz.

    Comment by havock21 | 16 March, 2009 | Reply

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