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campaign (CAC squads have 13 men).  It looked like the militia had put up one helluva fight.
    We spent the next four hours fortifying the eastern and northern approaches to the town.  Our armor made each of us a miniature backhoe, and in a few short hours of work we had extended the trench along the entire northern and eastern perimeters of the town.
    We moved the CAC auto gun and set up a real strongpoint at the corner of the northern and eastern sections of trench.  We had plenty of ammo for the gun – one of the buildings held crates full of extra ordnance.
    By nightfall we were ready for any attack.  We had detection devices positioned out about five klicks; they wouldn’t take us by surprise.  We even managed to grab a few hours of sleep in shifts.  We were ready for the counterattack.  But it never came.
    Later I managed to piece together what had happened.  Apparently the plan was working perfectly.  The enemy had sent an entire platoon supported by two light support vehicles to deal with us and retake the town.  That would have put us knee deep in it, but would also have fatally weakened the northern perimeter where the main attack was coming.
    Our attacking forces were supposed to wait until dark to give the enemy time to divert his forces.  Unfortunately, one of the planetary militia units ran into an enemy patrol, and the local commander panicked and sent his men in five hours early.
    Without the coordinating attacks along their flanks, the militia was in big trouble from the start.  The regulars could either hold back and watch the militia get chewed to pieces, or attack now, hours ahead of schedule.  The captain had no choice.
    Realizing that a major attack was developing in the north before the force heading south toward us was engaged, the enemy commander recalled these troops to strengthen the main defensive line.  He left a small force to delay any thrust we might make out of the town, but the rest of the diverted forces were recalled in time.
    With no way of knowing that the forces we expected to attack us had withdrawn, we remained in our defensive positions all night.  By the time we got the order to advance it was just about over.
    The firefight had raged throughout the night, but just about an hour before dawn the enemy lines were broken in two places.  After that it was just a question of mopping up. 
    On our way north we ran into a few enemy troops who tried to surrender.  They must have known what to expect since they'd used gas on the locals, but they tried anyway.  They were more fortunate, at least, then the ones who fell into the hands of the militia.  That is if the stories I heard later were true...and I have no doubt they were.
    The reconquest of Carson’s World was complete.  The tactical plan had been excellent and would have worked perfectly except for the failure of one militia officer to follow orders.  But such is the friction of war, and few battle plans survive the start of combat unmodified. 
    After the battle the captain made some noise about bringing the responsible officer up on charges, but it didn’t get very far.  I suspect if the battle had been lost instead of won, there would have been more of an appetite for an investigation, but with the planet back in our hands, the attitude seemed to be that no harm was done. 
    We felt differently, of course.  The company lost almost 20% of its strength, and most of the casualties occurred in the heavy fighting on the northern perimeter.  How many of those losses were caused by the foul up?  No way to tell.
    Our squad had one killed and one wounded.  Ferguson’s wound turned out to be a single clean shot through the left leg.  He’d be back in the line before our next assault.
    The rest of the squad – the entire company, actually – remained on the planet as garrison for six weeks.  This kind of duty is usually pretty slow, but not this time.  We were busy as hell the entire time.  We rebuilt and