[ WP ] aliens invade earth but what the do n't realise is that humans have been fighting each other forever and have become very good at it .

`` For it's a high high he, in the field ar-tillery! Shout out your numbers loud and strooong!'' 
 
 The happy, cheerful, positively gleeful singing floating across no-man's-land - a term borrowed from these damned primitives - contrasted with the renewed eruption of dirt falling around H'xlor's shoulders. Gritting his teeth and letting out a whimper completely unsuited to a proud warrior of the Rarot Legion, he hugged his plasma repeater tighter to his chest and curled into an even tighter ball. 
 
 `` Do these damned humans ever stop firing?!'' Perhaps even more harmful to his mental health than the incessant detonations was the fact that ever since stepping off the transport barge six months ago, he had n't had a chance to change his uniform. It did n't help that all shipments of supplies were being intercepted in the stratosphere by at least six multi-megaton nuclear missiles apiece, and every time they attacked one of the launch sites another one launched from the other side of the world! And they did n't even stick to the land, either! 
 
 `` H'xlor! Get your weapon ready, someth-'' Jax's head exploded in a shower of gore, splattering the already blood-coated sides of the'trench', as the humans would call it, with even more blood and brain. H'xlor whimpered again, feeling if he curled any tighter he'd turn into a singularity. The damned snipers, blowing off heads and limbs from kilometers away without even having the courage to stand and declare themselves! H'xlor swore that they *enjoyed* the sport, deliberately taking off legs and genitals and leaving their victims to die bleeding in the cratered hell of no-man's-land, and those who came to save them to be mowed down by concealed machine guns or artillery firing from dozens of kilometers from behind enemy lines. 
 
 `` Stand firm! Something's brewing!'' A boot planted itself in H'xlor's backside, and an officer's glove reached down and pulled him to his feet, shoving him forward. He rested his shaking weapon on the edge of the trench, suppressing a scream as the explosions walked ever closer. `` Stand *firm! *'' 
 
 `` Over hill, over dale, we will hit the dusty trail, and those caissons go rolling aloooong!'' 
 
 The explosions walked into the trench without ringing the doorbell and crashed on the couch. Entire platoons were blown sky-high by the impact of multi-ton explosive payloads, and H'xlor scrambled for his respirator as the sickly-sweet smell of Sarin-8S hit his nostrils. He then remembered that he'd lost it a day before fending off a nighttime raiding party, and settled for plunging his nose into the dirt, uncaring of who saw him. 
 
 `` Fix *bayonets! *'' A massive roar swelled up from the human lines, but H'xlor could n't even think about raising his head to see what was happening. The rumbles in the ground told him enough however, and the sound of shells and missiles screaming overhead to explode behind, inside, above, and in front of the trench told him to either duck low or get crushed under the treads of human armor. 
 
 `` Up and down, in and out, counter march and left about, and those caissons go rolling aloooong!'' 
 
 `` Stand firm! Stand *fir-aaargh! *'' A wet, splatty noise sounded from behind him as a brief burst of rifle fire cut the officer down where he stood, formerly resplendent and gleaming dress uniform torn to shreds and the ceremonial feather puff sent twirling away. Grenades and rockets began falling around him, adding onto the artillery that was *still firing! * Blindly, he fired a few shots from his plasma repeater, taking a minuscule measure of courage from it. The buzzing of return fire flying centimeters past his head put a quick end to that endeavor. 
 
 `` For wher-e'er we go, you will always know, that those caissons go rolling aloooong!'' 
 
 `` It's a good day for barbecue!'' The laughing roar of a human flame trooper and the whoosh of igniting fuel were the only warnings he got before a river of fire swept down the trench, shrieks and screams following in his wake as bipedal torches scrambled to escape, rolling and flailing amidst the flames. A few fired back, but the shots were quickly absorbed by the soldier's heavy ablative plating and only seemed to fuel his sadistic glee as he continued his steady, deliberate march towards the trench, half-obscured by fountaining dirt and backlit by roaring fire. H'xlor clambered from the trench and threw himself to the ground behind it just in time to avoid the flames, but a much more concerning noise now took its place. 
 
 `` Boomers going over!'' The artillery had n't stopped, but now it was also whistling over his head and past him, towards the rear echelon several kilometers behind this final, collapsing defensive line. Over that, the low drone of dozens, no, hundreds of aircraft, each laden down with dozens of tons of bombs, all converging on a headquarters and supply depot now under assault by shelling from the human's watercraft. What numbskull had decided to position the headquarters for the entire continent on the coast?! Probably the same one who'd decided that the Legion, not having fought a war or even technologically progressed in millennia, could easily overrun this planet of primitives who still used *ballistics*! 
 
 `` Let's go, run'em through!'' Gurgling screams began to sound from behind him, humans jumping into the trench and using bayonets, knives, rifle butts and their bare hands to rip his comrades into pieces. They put up a fight, but for every one that went down screaming two more eagerly took their place, raring for blood and armed to the teeth. H'xlor began dragging himself away, determined to not die here today. 
 
 `` Found one!'' A boot under his chest flipped him on his back, staring up into the face of a grinning human, his bayonet positioned right over H'xlor's throat. 
 
 `` No! Please! Do n't kill me!'' 
 
 `` Kill you? Oh no, I'm not killing anything, nosiree!'' The human let out a cackling laugh, a glimmer in his eye. `` Taking out the trash never killed anyone, did it?!'' 
 
 As cold metal found a home in H'xlor's throat, he realized that the artillery was still firing. However, even with the universe growing dimmer and quieter even as it exploded around him, a sound floated over above it all. 
 
 `` For it's a high high he, in the field ar-tillery! Shout out your numbers loud and strooong! For wher-e'er we go, you will always know, that those caissons go rolling aloooong!''
