|A group of War Bears|
|A group of War Bears|
|Unit Type||Animal Scout|
One-use ability, unit gains massive buff
|Heroic Upgrade||Replacement Honey Packets|
• Secondary is reusable
|Dev. Status||RA3 Original Unit|
- - War Bear creed. Translated by Conscripts as "I are Bear, put your Head in my Mouth!"
- Death to spies: One of the most rigorous aspects of War Bear training is used to finely enhance their naturally excellent sense of smell, allowing them to literally sniff out enemy spies. Casualties among disguised Allied operatives scheming within the Soviet Union spiked to record highs after a national War Bear patrol protocol was instated.
- Unsafe waters: While Russian bears can naturally swim, because of the heavy armour plating affixed to Soviet War Bears, they must slowly be re-trained to do this. Fortunately, by the time they are field-ready, War Bears are more than capable of patrolling the seas as well as the earth. And they are no less effective at mauling enemy infantry while having to tread water.
- A rumbly in my tumbly: War Bears have a set of packets filled with honey powder on their collars. If a commander deems it necessary, the packets can be detonated, sending the powder everywhere and tricking the bear's sense of smell into perceiving nearly everything around it as being made of delicious honey. While under the powder's effects, the Bear attacks faster, takes less damage, and cannot be stunned. However, keep in mind the ability can only be used once, unless the bear has proved itself in combat enough to earn resupplies.
- Ineffective against armour: Although several Soviet battlefield commanders continue to try and disprove this, the evidence overwhelmingly shows that War Bears are poorly suited in combat situations involving armoured vehicles. Their claws are simply not sharp enough and their armour simply not thick enough to be of any use in such engagements.
WWIII Operational HistoryEdit
"You know, you're awfully moody for a bear."
- - Igor Petrenko whining about his partner when attempting to assassinate Emperor Yoshiro
As the Soviet war machine gathered momentum, it became increasingly obvious to the leaders of the Soviet Union that fear was among their most powerful weapons against their many enemies. Along with the V4 Rocket Launcher, Kirov Airship, and Apocalypse Tank, it would be fear that would ultimately force the Union's enemies to submit to their ironclad will. So it was that the Ministry of Experimental Science received an extraordinary research grant, composed of the combined salaries of the entire Soviet intelligentsia, to develop a variety of new fear-based armaments.Among the successes of this exploration are the so-called Desolator Defoliant, the Stingray strike craft, the oft-rumored orbital magnetic satellite, and, of course, the Union's war bear programme. Russia's use of these mighty mammals in frontline combat not only bolstered the morale of its human combatants, it resoundingly succeeded at making enemy infantry even more reluctant to engage Soviet forces on the ground.
Intended as a more-durable replacement to Soviet attack dogs (which proved unsuited to harsh weather conditions and Allied ordnance), these Russian bears were born in captivity, trained from birth in military tactics, and conditioned to withstand the rigours of frontline modern warfare.
Their claws are specially sharpened to cut through body armour, and their bodies are fitted with special scanning arrays and a vocal amplification module that turns a mighty roar into such a deafening blast that it can stop a man dead in his tracks, paralyzed. War bears are even hardy enough to brave the icy waters on the periphery of the Soviet Union, which they often must patrol in search of would-be spies and frogmen.
Though it is difficult to remember a time before trained bears fought alongside Soviet men and women for the glory of their Motherland, the war bear programme was not without bumps in the road. Early attempts at training met with mixed results, as certain war bears--in spite of a lifetime of handling--would become unpredictably enraged during combat situations, turning their claws upon the closest conscript rather than on enemy combatants.
A disturbingly high percentage of war bears also suffered from vagrancy, anemia, or other general unwillingness to perform at acceptable levels. While this directly benefited the Union's typically-grim food supply, it was disastrous to the public image of the Ministry of Experimental Science, which eventually recovered its good standing after the introduction of special training collars.
Fitted with millions of tiny Tesla-based electrotherapy transmitters, these training collars allow a direct interaction between bear and battlefield commander, while a six-pound block of lead implanted directly in the body makes the bears show up on battlefield scanners, mine detectors, and airport security measures. War bear obedience and delinquency has never since been an issue (Lead poisoning is another story).
The conditions under which war bears are prepared for their day on the battlefield is a closely guarded secret, though commonly-held assumptions are that these conditions probably are not great. One world-leading animal psychologist has noted that war bears, though all different, do seem to display acute signs of depression and anxiety, even more so than their human comrades fighting battle alongside them.
The psychologist recommended that the bears be released back to nature at once. When faced with this accusation on a live telecast, representatives for the Ministry of Experimental Science responded by repeating the psychologist's words in a mocking, high-pitched tone, then ordered her to be incarcerated for treason.
Post-War Operational HistoryEdit
On a whim, a Soviet Conscript gave one of the War Bears he was serving with a nearly-empty bottle of honey he had been sent from home. Upon catching the scent of its ancestral delicacy, the bear tore the bottle apart and ate what little was left inside, much like it had done to the rabbit it had for breakfast that morning. Having the presence of mind to realize the potential of such a discovery (namely that bears love honey), Conscript Kristofer Robinov (who would later go on to become the first recipient of the "Non-Human Patriot Comradeship Award"), forwarded the information up to his Commissar, who then passed it to the Commander, who then told the researchers back in Omsk to get cracking on weaponizing the Bears' near-feral response to the scent of honey.
Many different experiments were made before success was found. The failed experiments included a "Honey Grenade" to be carried by specific Conscripts (which failed because the bears would tear off the hand the Conscript used to throw it), a dedicated vehicle to launch pods of the substance into enemy formations (which failed because the bears would simply attack the launcher in hopes of getting to the pod stores inside), and even a muzzle containing highly potent honey distillate that would keep a bear in the feral state permanently (which failed because the bear would simply rip off the muzzle and eat the distillate, dying soon after from hyperglycemia).
The scientists at Omsk eventually discarded liquid and solid-state honey for a gaseous powder, which would fool the bear into thinking everything around them was made of honey. The desired results were obtained, with fewer than 40% of the bears tested attacking their handlers instead. The powder was placed into brick-sized packets, which are fitted with a mechanism to burst on a signal from the acting Commander. The effects speak for themselves.
However, the side-effects of this brief flash of primal fury are numerous. A bear coming down from a sugar-high is irritable, sluggish, and rather moody; and unless the bear has already been fighting in the battle for a while, these spells of depression tend to last for hours, if not days, meaning any attempt at replacing the packets for a second go-round is simply out of the question. In addition to this, bears fitted with the packets have had their Shumov roar amplifiers removed. The removal was necessary due to space concerns, as well as fears by the Omsk research team that the delicate machinery would be rendered useless in the bear's blind fury.
The new "Rage Inducer" packets have become commonplace throughout Soviet battalions, and have seen stunning effectiveness against Allied infantry divisions. Peacekeeper shells are shrugged off, and the Attack Dog's infamous "bark of doom" is simply ignored. The future looks bright for Soviet infantry divisions.
Just the StatsEdit
|Detector(300), Amphibious, Animal|
|War Bear (Enraged)|
|Detector(300), Amphibious, Animal, Regenerator(10), Uncrushable|