This is a short story inspired by the song The Last Stand by Sabaton.

May 6th 1527, The Vatican

"They are in the city!"
I turned and looked up at private Gurtner who was the one shouting. How did they get through Rome's gates and walls so quickly? My heart sped up as the sounds of battle growing louder by the minute. Captain Roïst came out of the barracks shouting "Everyone to the cemetery! We make our stand there!" He was running to gather the rest of the troops while the rest of us were sprinting with our weapons to form up. Throughout the Vatican there was shouting of orders to get to the cemetery as the sounds of skirmishes outside of the walls grew louder evermore.

When I arrived at the cemetery I saw the garrison already there or what was left of them. They looked bloody, beaten, and exhausted. There were men with bandages on heads, arms, legs, and chests. They looked at us in our pristine armor with our pikes glinting in the sunlight. There was defeat and hopelessness in their eyes. Clearly they knew something that we did not. I got into my position in the ranks between Riser and Durig and waited for orders.

I saw a couple of garrison troopers running toward us and filing into ranks. Others just kept running. Cowards. Riser noticed too and shouted "Where are you going? Do you not want to defend your home?" Most ignored the jab and kept running. One stopped and shouted back "Rome is lost you fools. If you have any will to live you will save yourselves and flee this place." Riser went to respond and Durig cut him off "Let them go. If they want to live so be it. They will have to live with what they have done for the rest of their lives if not the afterlife." They kept running and were soon out of earshot. A couple of those who heard the exchange from the garrison looked at each other and soon a couple of them started turning and leaving. "Cowards!" I yelled at them. "How dare you abandon us!" as they ran by one shouted back "Better a live coward than a dead foo-" CRACK a loud pistol shot rang out cutting him off. Half of the ranks jumped with the sound. The man collapsed in a heap with a look of surprise on his face as he fell to the grass. A crimson stain in the center of his back grew as his breathing slowed to a stop. As he fell we saw Roïst with a smoking pistol walking toward all of us with a small group of soldiers. He calmly reloaded his pistol without slowing down or missing a step. "How about a dead coward?" He looked around at the rest of the men who immediately were running back to position.

"Gentlemen ready positions and weapons. We fire once then charge." Roïst took up position in the front with us with the garrison troops intermingled with the rest of the guardsmen. I check and double check my rifle and pike. We trained every minute for years for moments like this but the nerves never go away. I slow my breathing down to calm and ready myself. We are no more than 3 deep in our ranks as we wait for our enemy. We hear them growing ever closer as we wait for them to make their way to us. The shouting and the men screaming grows ever louder in our ears as we are waiting. Waiting. Waiting. The anticipation was the worst. Waiting for the enemy to show. Hearing the screams of battle and skirmishes is the worst because it builds in your stomach. Once you are in the fight then its all up to your training and fate. But until then you are just stuck waiting. Just you and your thoughts alone.

"I see them!"
Someone yells and fires. "HOLD DAMMIT!" Roïst yells at the man. "You will hold until I give the order!" The man hastily reloads as Roïst continues screaming at the man. The shot alerted the enemy to us and the mob of men slowly turned to us and started running to us like a wave. First it was a handful, then more came running at us. Screaming, howling, cackling madmen. They were more like demons than men, shouting at us in languages I did not recognize or hear. It did not matter. They were here to kill us and we were there to kill them. Roïst called out "Rank 1 ready." I saw the rank ahead of me ready their weapons "Rank 1 AIM! Rank 2 ready!" The wall of men was closing closer, faster and faster as I readied my rifle. After a brief pause "FIRE!"

A staccato of rifle fire erupted from the rank in front of me. Once the noise subsided "Rank 1 down! Rank 2 aim! Rank 3 ready!" The men in front of us dropped to their knees picking up their pikes and swords for close combat. I took aim. I could not pick out a target so I just aimed at the large mass of humanity that was stalled and held by the first round of rifle fire. "RANK 2 FIRE!" I pulled the trigger and a cloud of smoke filled my vision. There was a ringing in my ears but I knew what the next command was going to be. I dropped to my knees and picked up my pike. I looked up my blood ran cold. The fire didnt work. They were going to be on top of us before the last rank would fire. Roïst saw this too and shouted "RANK 3 FIRE AT WILL AND CHARGE!" This caused confusion in the ranks. The first rank got up and in the way of the third ranks fire. I kept my head down as I heard a smattering of fire from behind my head and over my shoulders. Once I heard the ones fire by me I got up and sprinted at the enemy.

Parry and thrust. Keep them away. Parry. Thrust. My training took over once I reached the middle of the fight. I didnt see faces, just a mass of humanity in front of me and I just kept thrusting away. I didnt know if I was hitting anyone or anything important I was just slamming my pike into as many people as I could as fast as I could. The adrenaline was thundering through my veins as I kept hammering my pike home. The screams didn't register they just added to the noise of clashing steel, shouting, and weapons firing. It felt like an eternity of thrusting and killing and mayhem but it also felt like no time had passed at all when I heard something that shook me to the bone "ROÏST IS DOWN!". Throughout the ranks I heard the call go out "Roïst is wounded! Fall back! Fall back!" I snapped out of my trance of killing and death and looked around as if for the first time seeing the carnage. Broken weapons and bodies lay everywhere. The screams of the dying echoed suddenly became crystal clear and drowned out all other sound and the smell of death enveloped my body as it felt like it was trying to penetrate my soul. I looked to my right and left, both Riser and Durig were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, my stomach turned and twisted. My senses were overloaded with death and my friends were gone. I looked and saw more men piling up the hill and my entire body tensed and with that final sight burning into my mind. I ran.

I ran as fast as I could. I was trying to outrun the sights, smells, and sounds of death. I was sprinting as fast as I could up the hill back to the barracks or the cathedral or somewhere. My legs were burning and my arms were heavy. Once I feel I am far enough away I then look down at myself and my hands and realize I am covered in blood, mud, and gore. I look closer and realize I had been shot in the left leg. I look at it puzzled. It didn't hurt. Why didn't it hurt? I thought rifle shots were supposed to hurt. I am now wandering towards the cathedral pondering this when a group of soldiers run past me and snaps me out of my daze. I go to follow but my leg finally gives out as I give a yelp of pain.

One of the soldiers turns and sees me. It was Gurtner. He picks me up and says "They are coming for the cathedral. Come with us." Half walking half gimping I saw 30 or so pikemen already there on the steps as we rushed to join them. We arrive right as the man in charge yells "MEN FORM UP! We swore an oath to defend the Pope to the death and today we honor it!" a small cheer of approval rises from the motley band of misfits. All were guardsmen and all were injured in some way. I pushed myself off of Gurtner and leaned against my pike like a walking stick. I watched as the enemy came after us across the open land from the barracks. In that moment it felt like time stood still.

I looked around and examined these other men. They were all beaten, bloody, and scared. You could see it in their eyes. They knew that they would die today at the hands of these barbarians and I was one of them. I wanted to run again but something stopped me. What was preventing me from running? The door was right there. I started to walk towards it. I looked at it and the longer I looked at it the further it felt away from me. I blinked wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I then saw a flash of white. I blinked again and there was a man in white standing at the doorway surrounded by other men trying to usher him out. He looked familiar but I couldn't place his name... He looked older and worried. We made eye contact and in that moment a flash of realization came over both of us. I realized in that moment that he had to live. For him to live I must die protecting him. He quickly gave the sign of the cross to us and whispered something. As quickly as he arrived I blinked and he was ushered away by soldiers who then vanished behind the door.

I turned around in time to see the first wave of enemies hitting our troops at the base of the steps. With a burst of energy I ran to the door and slammed it shut. I heard a series of thuds as the people inside barred and locked the door. I then placed myself in front of the door and shouted at the top of my lungs. As long as I had breath in my body I was going to kill every single person who was going to open that door. One man ran at me and I ran him through with my pike. Another right behind him came at me with a sword and I thrust my pike so far into him it got stuck. I grabbed his pistol and sword as someone slashed me across the back. Searing hot pain made me tense up and I roared in pain. As I fell to the ground I twisted and fired the pistol at someone else as I stood back up. I wildly swung my sword at an attacker who jumped backward and pierced my shoulder with his sword. I gasped in pain as my wounds were increasing. I lashed at him again and he deflected my slash as he ran me through with his sword.

I gasped as the breath was driven from my body. He pushed me off the sword as I fell to the ground. I was having trouble breathing as my body started feeling heavy. One man was trying to open the door but couldn't. I wanted to raise my hands up to grab him by the ankles but my arms felt heavy all of a sudden. They started hacking away at the door with their weapons trying to break it down. I was lying there trying to breath but everything just felt so heavy. I was so tired. I turned to my right and saw Gurtner. His feet were thrashing around and one hand across his throat trying to stop the bleeding from his neck. He was reaching out with his other hand for someone to try and help him. He was ignored by everyone. I was looking at him trying to make my way to him to tell him he is not alone. I am still here. I can help. But I am just so tired. My arms and legs and even my head can't move anymore. I will help him but I need to rest first. My thoughts start drifting and soon my eyes can't focus on him. First rest and then I can help him. I slowly drift off to sleep as the sounds of people pounding on the door are still ringing in my ears.

Epilogue

This story is about the final stand of the Swiss Guards on May 6th 1527. When Rome was attacked the 189 Swiss guards were tasked to defend the Pope and ensure his survival and escape. The Swiss Guard made a stand at the Teutonic Cemetery led by Captain Kaspar Roïst with the rest of the garrison of Rome and were routed. The Swiss Guard then regrouped at the Basilica steps where they protected the Pope's entourage all the way to a secret passage where the Pope escaped. Of the 187 only 42 survived the battles. To commemorate this date, new members of the Swiss Guard are sworn in on May 6th and serve for 2 years during this time.