The sun had barely risen over the Sinai desert, casting orange light over the barren land.
After Rohan declared war on United Kingdom, both India and Egypt finally combined their defence command so as to coordinate more better.
Because right now they are being attacked by three forces from three side and even though they don't want to accept it, the truth is Egypt is loosing.
But there are more problems with Egyptian army that makes this battle even more complicated.
Days of relentless British and French attacks had pushed Egypt's army to the brink, and now, with India formally entering the war, a desperate counterattack was their only hope.
Major Arun Prakash, commanding the Indian expeditionary forces, leaned over a dusty map spread on a makeshift table in the command post.
Around him, Egyptian officers and Indian advisors crowded in the dimly lit tent
Each man's face was full of fatigue, but their eyes burned with determination.
Prakash pointed to the map. "The British have established their main supply depots near El-Qantara. Their reinforcents are coming through the Mitla Pass, and their artillery units are dug in here, covering their southern flank. If we can disrupt their supply lines and cut off reinforcents, we'll slow their advance toward Cairo."
General Hassan, one of Egypt's senior commanders, rubbed his temple as he studied the plan. "We've been hitting their supply depots for days with minimal success. Their air support is overwhelming, and my n are at their breaking point."
"You still have n who are willing to fight," Prakash said firmly. "And now you have us. We've studied their movents. They rely on speed and air superiority, but they underestimate your ability to adapt."
"And your ability to carry us," Hassan added quietly, glancing at Prakash. "Let's not pretend we can pull this off without Indian support."
Prakash didn't respond imdiately. Instead, he gestured toward Colonel Satish Nair, the artillery commander. "Colonel, your guns will provide cover for the Egyptian assault on their supply lines. We need constant fire on their positions near El-Qantara to keep them from regrouping."
Nair nodded. "We'll use our mobile batteries to avoid counter-fire. Every twenty minutes, we'll relocate. The key is keeping their artillery guessing."
Prakash continued, his finger tracing the Mitla Pass on the map. "The Gurkhas will take the pass. Their ability to operate in tight, rugged terrain gives us the advantage. Once they secure it, we'll send in our infantry to hold the position and cut off reinforcents."
Captain Malik, still nursing wounds from the earlier convoy attack, interjected. "The terrain is unforgiving, sir. If the British deploy their artillery or call in air strikes, the Gurkhas will be trapped."
"They'll have artillery support," Prakash replied, his tone decisive. "Colonel Nair's team will focus on taking out their artillery once the Gurkhas are in position. The Egyptian forces will simultaneously engage their main supply lines, forcing the British to split their focus."
General Hassan folded his arms. "It's bold, I'll give you that. But if this fails, Cairo falls."
Prakash t his gaze evenly. "Then let's make sure it doesn't."
As the sun climbed higher, the operation began.
Egyptian infantry units, supported by Indian advisors, advanced toward the British supply depots near El-Qantara.
The desert air was soon filled with the roar of artillery as Colonel Nair's guns opened fire, sending shells crashing into British defensive positions.
The troops on British side were already expecting a counterattack, so they were able create a defence so as to avoid it.
"Battery One, fire for effect!" Nair barked, his voice sharp over the din of battle.
His crew responded with precision, their 105mm howitzers roaring as they unleashed round after round.
In the distance, plus of smoke rose as the shells found their targets.
British trucks, loaded with ammunition and fuel, exploded in fiery bursts.
Egyptian infantry surged forward, rifles blazing as they engaged the stunned British defenders.
Lieutenant Ahd Rashid, leading one of the Egyptian companies, shouted over the chaos, "Push forward! Don't let them regroup!"
Rashid's n advanced with renewed vigor, their boots kicking up clouds of sand as they charged through the dunes.
For a mont, it seed the tide was turning.
Then the sound of jet engines pierced the air. British Hawker Hunter jets scread overhead.
Rashid's heart sank as he realized what was coming.
"Take cover!" he bellowed, diving into a trench just as the first bombs fell.
The desert erupted in fire and smoke, the ground shaking violently as the airstrike tore through Egyptian positions.
In the command post, Prakash watched the chaos unfold through his binoculars.
He lowered them, his jaw tight. "Hassan's n won't hold if this continues. We need to pull their focus."
He turned to Malik. "Captain, the Gurkhas are in position. Begin the flank through the Mitla Pass. And tell Colonel Nair to redirect artillery to suppress their southern positions."
Malik saluted sharply. "Yes, sir."
At the Mitla Pass, the Gurkhas moved with precision and stealth.
Sergeant Man Bahadur, a veteran of countless battles, led his n through the narrow, rocky terrain.
The pass was a natural choke point, perfect for an ambush.
"Keep low," Bahadur murmured, his voice barely audible. "No noise until we're on top of them."
The Gurkhas advanced like shadows, their khukuris sheathed but ready.
They could hear the British platoon ahead, their voices carrying in the still air.
When the attack ca, it was sudden and devastating.
The Gurkhas struck with surgical precision, their blades flashing as they overwheld the British guards.
Bahadur drove his khukuri into the chest of a British soldier before turning to his n. "Secure the position! Watch for reinforcents!"
Minutes later, Malik's infantry arrived, their rifles sweeping the terrain as they established defensive positions.
The pass was theirs.
Malik radioed Prakash. "Mitla Pass secured, sir. Awaiting further orders."
"Hold the position at all costs," Prakash replied. "Colonel Nair is targeting their artillery. Reinforcents are on the way."
Back at El-Qantara, the Egyptian assault was faltering.
The British, though caught off guard initially, had regrouped.
Their superior training and equipnt were taking a toll on the exhausted Egyptian soldiers.
Lieutenant Rashid, crouched behind a shattered truck, yelled into his radio, "We're losing ground! Where's the support?"
Overhead, British jets returned for another strafing run, their cannons tearing through the desert floor.
Rashid's n scattered, their morale crumbling under the relentless assault.
Prakash, observing the battle from a ridge, knew they were running out of ti.
He grabbed his radio. "Colonel Nair, we need those artillery positions neutralized now."
"Working on it, sir," Nair replied, his voice calm despite the chaos. "Battery Two, adjust fire! Target coordinates 3-5-7 enemy artillery spotted!"
The howitzers roared again, their shells arcing toward the distant British positions.
Monts later, explosions lit up the horizon as the British artillery was silenced.
With the British artillery out of action, the Egyptians rallied.
General Hassan, standing at the frontlines, shouted to his n, "This is our chance! Push forward!"
The Egyptian infantry surged ahead, their rifles blazing as they engaged the retreating British forces.
But even as they gained ground, the cost was staggering. Bodies littered the desert, and the air filled with the sll of smoke and blood.
No matter how hard they tried but unfortunately the skills of Egyptian army even with addition of Indian troops and command cannot overco the lack of it.
By late afternoon, the counterattack had stalled.
The British, though battered, remained entrenched in key positions.
The Egyptians, despite their bravery, lacked the strength to push further.
Prakash, back at the command post, assessed the situation. "We've bought so ti, but it's not enough. Hassan's n are exhausted, and the British still control the air."
General Hassan approached him, his uniform streaked with sweat and dirt. "We've lost too many n. I don't know how much longer we can keep this up."
Prakash t his gaze evenly. "You'll keep fighting because you have no choice. And neither do we."
Hassan nodded, though his shoulders sagged. "Your n… they've carried us. Without them, we wouldn't have made it this far."
Prakash placed a hand on Hassan's shoulder. "This isn't just your fight anymore, General. It's ours too. But make no mistake this war is far from over."
As night fell, the battlefield was eerily quiet. The desert, now littered with bodies and shells that were used before.
Soldiers tended to the wounded, their faces etched with exhaustion.
They have lost many of their comrades for so ground and in many cases they even lost those ground.
Malik, sitting by a campfire with his n, glanced at the distant glow of British positions. "They're not unbeatable," he said quietly. "But they're damn close."
Bahadur, cleaning his khukuri nearby, nodded. "We'll beat them. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we will."
The n fell silent.
The counterattack, though a partial success, had shown them the scale of the challenge ahead.
In the distance, the faint sound of trucks continued across the dunes as British reinforcents were moving into position for the next day's fight.
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