The Invaders
Despite the horrendous losses, scorched flesh shot through with shrapnel all too likely filling the senses of every soldier there, the soldiers did not falter. Over the sound of gunfire, cannon shelling, and incineration their voices joined together in vicious harmony with what few stereos blasted their goddess' anthem.
... Hail, ye heroes, heav'n-born band,
Who fought and bled in freedom's cause!
The bombs fell, and many were lost. More armored vehicles were burst apart by the wrath of the Pumpkin Queen, and the music came from one less space across the spreading battlefield.
And when the storm of war was gone!
Their shouting chorus grew louder still, the men and women in their full body armor taking cover behind the ruins of their own vehicles, behind the rubble their ravaging rampage had wrought, and tried with a frightening fervor still to kill as many as they saw.
Enjoy'd the peace your valor won!
It was the hallmark of the Columbian war machine, the way dying soldiers crawled even bereft of legs into the swarming masses of their foes and let loose with explosions of their own, spending their lives as yet one more piece of ammunition. Without hesitation, without doubt, with a faith as pure as any martyr'd soul, they laid down their lives for their goal.
LET INDEPENDENCE BE OUR-!
And then they were scythed down like chaff, and they sang and shot and 'sploded no more.
The field grew quiet, save for the distant rapport of cannon fire and tank treads tearing on asphalt as the last of the mechanized forces made a run for the residential portions of the city.
Away from that.