Emptying another magazine, the Sergeant again cursed fate for putting him into this clusterfuck. Who could have known that that general didn't have a sense of humor? Goddamn eugenics-produced stuck-ups. And now he was in charge of what was left of the company, after all the officers had been killed.
While reloading again, Schrenger more felt than heard a thump right next to him. Looking up, he was greeted by the dead visage of a zombie that somehow made it into the trench. He knew that visage. He stumbled back and drew his pistol, a mix of fear, anger and (strangely) pity pumping even more adrenalin through his veins. "Ach Scheiße, Heini", he murmured, before putting a bullet into the brain of his old friend.
Seconds later, he heard a infernal, painful shrieking sound, making him want to cover his ears. Before his eyes, something swooped down on the overrun trench and bathed it into flame, turning living and dead alike into ash. He only caught a glimpse of something he wasn't sure he wanted to see at all. He and the remainder of the company, now less than two platoons, shot up the remaining undead stumbling along between the trench lines, supported by several heavy cannons opening up.
Turning around, he saw an entire convoy of armored vehicles coming their way. 'Reinforcements, some Panzer unit. And sorcerers, too, judging by that demon. But, boy, they look young. Fresh meat, eh?', he thought by himself. Seeing the smug look of the young textbook aryan standing in the cupola of the lead tank, Schrenger couldn't but give the newcomers a proper welcome.
"About time you showed up, Bubis! You're missing all the fun!"