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Act One - Home Never Seemed So Far

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Lodis85
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Post  Admin Thu Jul 18, 2013 2:18 am

For six months of hell the brave men of the Allied front have been on the run from far superior Russian forces; bombing them from the air, running them to ground with armour or simply overpowering their meagre almost leaderless forces with frightening numbers on foot.

Many succumbed to terribly injuries without the adequate medical supplies to maintain them or methods to move them, many deserted, many fell fighting until the entire front finally made it to the shores of Italy and took the large harbour town of Chiavari garrisoned by three hundred Russian soldiers with a battalion and a half further up shore in a city capital. Days past and with only remaining Russian soldiers preforming insurgent attacks upon their operations the Allies where allowed to efficiently begin moving out of Europe, some eight-thousand soldiers taking anything that floated over the ocean to nearby islands and a large bulk of armour and supplies making the journey.

What is left of Chiavari is a pitiful shadow of its former self, the Italian town once home to tourists attracted to its pretty urban style build into the mountains and surrounded by colourful landscape is now a mess of ruins and wrecks with the military vehicles such as tanks standing impressively over them like corpses of great beasts. The locals are not unlike rats, pouring over the bodies of the hundreds left dead in the streets fiddling for ammo, food, anything of value they can trade to stretch out their hollow, ill-fated lives just one more day and scurrying away at the first signs of life approaching.

The smell of rot and decay is abrasive, burning into the nostrils of the soldiers during the first days of occupation of the town and it is incredibly hard to decide if it is worse than the scent of the burning of mass funeral pyres that have become so common in these hard days. The 25th Infantry commanded by
Major Gray had moved into a guttered hotel towards the outside of town, "Hotel Monte Rosa"; although it had definitely seen better days, most of the buildings still stood.

The evacuation of Europe by Allied troops was almost complete, a mere eight-hundred or so remaining then onwards to Africa, and perhaps America for some, if it still could be considered home despite the hostile action on its own soil.

Private 1st Class; Pilks  stretched out on what was left of the outdoor furniture with the rest his Rangers squad around the muck waters of the pool, their gear laying around them listening to a stereo they had scrounged up with a few CD's scattered around them. ".... Me and some guys from school, Had a band and we tried real hard..." They chuckled and laughed as they played some cards, smokes being used for chips.

Away from them a couple of the soldiers from Baker squad chatted amongst themselves, the Pommie slang making it hard to tell what they were really saying to each other however seeming to enjoy the banter and relaxation. Not all of Baker enjoyed such fun, Finbarr the fallschirmjager had set up a small range right on the side of street.

Falker was never far from their baby, the panzer. The yank soldiers listening to their own radio as they gave it a loving make-over that a rich beach princess might receive if things were still normal, resting at a tarped setup on the intersection outside.


Last edited by Admin on Sun Jul 21, 2013 1:44 am; edited 1 time in total
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Post  Lodis85 Fri Jul 19, 2013 8:31 pm

I sling stinking socks over my shoulders, hoping the stink of them doesn't assault the small courtyard full of moaning, shrieking men and women. Scots-men, yanks, Aussies, even Russian (fuckin) turncoats, i avoid the lot of 'em. Despite the horrors, or perhaps because of them, I pick myself up and cross the downtrodden bastards in search of someone, anyone, who knew where the fuck we were supposed to be going. Spotting a medic I alter my trajectory, hoping my disheveled appearance and sweaty socks don't put him off. Surely the young doc, 'Brandon' I think the twerp's name was, knew what the fallback plan was. "Powitaninia," i call to the young man, but when i see the odd expression on his face and the American flag emblazoned on his khaki encrusted shoulder I resort to English, "greetings sir," and say out loud so all in the courtyard can hear, "what the fuck's up, doc?"

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Post  whitescar Sat Jul 20, 2013 12:37 am

A tall heavily scarred man stands off to the side leaning heavily against a stack of rusted car rims, his face brooding and covered in a layer of grime. The look in his dark eyes betrays very little of his thoughts, but barely hides the level of fatigue that pushes itself to the forefront. His dark hair is cropped short and as dirty as his exposed skin, a german style combat helmet beside the man as he painstakingly cleans his H&K MP5K as though his life depends in it, as it may well do. As men and women of the allied forces stagger through the area, he flicks his cold gaze quickly over each of them before continuing his task at hand.

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Post  Lodis85 Sat Jul 20, 2013 4:16 am

Clearly busy tending to the wounded, the doc ignores me. I shrug and after finding a fresh set of socks head on out to the street, kicking some debris out of the way and watching the dust cover my feet. "Finbarr" I call out, "room for one more?" I'm not sure if he heard me over the crackle of rifle-fire on his range but i continue anyway, readying my rifle for a bit of practice.

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Post  Typhus Sat Jul 20, 2013 5:35 am

As i walk back into camp from a patrol, sniper rifle slung over my right shoulder chewing on chewing tobacco i noticed a stench, thinking to myself "what the hell is that fucking smell" walking a few more metre's i noticed a soldier with his socks over his shoulder's, its over powering smell was bad his socks might just kill the wounded...at least for some of them it wouldnt be pain full. Walking across the yard to get away from the smell i pull up an empty jerrycan next to a tent and lean my rifle against a small stack of boxes spitting out some tobacco thinking to myself "fuck this shit, fuck this place", i couldnt wait for this to be over i needed a hot shower or bath a decent meal, the guy with socks definatly needed the shower.
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Post  lord_luapssor Sat Jul 20, 2013 7:26 am

Brandon clumsy brakes down his rifle while sitting at a table. Once it's broken down begins to clean it. Taking his time cleaning and laying the pieces of his rifle out as to memorize where each goes, much like a child with a basic puzzle. After each piece has been cleaned. He begins to put the rifle back together,  stumbling at times. Once the rifle was put back together, places it on the table in front of him. Reaches in to his left thigh pocket and pulls out what he calls his pocket paramedic, a paramedic field guide that was given to him by a paramedic when he did his pre-combat rotation at Hurley Medical Center in Flint Michigan. Brandon thinks to himself 'I could use a few medics from Genesee county. They worked in a war zone day In, day out'. He chuckles to himself.  'Wonder what happened to them.' He then places the book back in his pocket. Looks up as though somebody called him. Noticing nobody looking to get his attention he then Grabs his rifle,  slings it over his shoulder and walks to a window where the rest of his kit is. Looks out the window, over the half demolished buildings, 'Reminds me of Flint'. Takes a knee and looks over his medical bag. "Never thought I would have use the Ghetto medic skills that I learn't on the road."  Laughs and zips up the bag.
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Post  Admin Sat Jul 20, 2013 11:02 am

Chiavari's streets are bathed in mid-day sun mixing with the almost surreal peace to give the tormented troops a minor boost in their morale despite the short supplies and lack of stable power to their facilities. Many had bucketed some water from the local river to shave and clean themselves some managing to scrounge up soup and going as far to also wash their uniforms.

Finbarr pauses maintenance and sighting of his rifle to offer a friendly raised hand salute in greeting to Sgt. Dubicki; "der Feldweibel" he pauses after the greeting and salute to add in very rough English, "Ah, Can I help?".

Taking note of the rifle a moment after he motions to it; "Ausüben?" noticing the confusion in the NCO's face, without a pause he translates motioning again to the rifle in bad English; "Ah, Train you in rifle?"


Last edited by Admin on Sun Jul 21, 2013 1:42 am; edited 1 time in total
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Post  DEATH Sat Jul 20, 2013 12:41 pm

with a small screech of tires, Gary Willbur pulls up in front of the hotel. Stepping out of the passanger door of the Humvee as it still rolls to a stop, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot drowned out bull the dull roar of the diesel engine. Swinging his M14 combat rifle over his shoulder he looks back towards the driver.

"Wait here for me, i will gather up my guys and then we will head out and start setting up some positions" Wilbur says as he tucks his helmet under the crook of his left arm and strides towards the hotels door.

Looking up towards the battered facade of the building, 'it certainly looks worse for wear, but then again aren't we all by this stage of the war. At least the men gt to sleep inside and on a bed for a change.' he thinks to himself as he strides through the main door. Glancing towards a group of troopers trying in vain to figure out the fancy looking coffee machine behind the reception desk.

"Pilks, Vance leave that for a moment and go rouse anybody sleeping upstairs, we have our marching orders" he says before motioning to the rear courtyard  "get em to come out here"
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Post  Admin Sat Jul 20, 2013 3:31 pm

Private 1st Class Pilks abandons the card game without even a second though, him and his men grabbing their rifles and combat gear and responding to their officers orders.

They drum, kick and knock on doors and beds mustering up the unit from their state of solemn rest. Quickly some gather, waiting on the NCO's and specialists to come to the gathering.
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Post  Lodis85 Sun Jul 21, 2013 9:44 am

"Another time," Henryk tells the private as they hear Henryk's men rousing the hornet's nest. He puts his AK-47 back over his left shoulder and ties the sweaty socks around the rifle's straps. A small grin appears as he turns back to the dilapidated hotel's crumbling door frame, 'finally, something's happening,' he thinks, imagining a relatively short and nasty but lifesaving cruise across to Africa. "Ow, fuck," he says as he bumps his head on the hotel's door frame, then proceeds to sneeze as the dust settles on his head. Feeling frustrated he pulls his boots off and tosses the fresh socks away. He quickly puts his boots back on and spots Pilks rushing around a hallway.

"All right Charlie, knock it off, all of Italy knows the Major's back by now," he yells to his squad, "Come on yanks, let's see what he has for us, Pilks, Vance, find me a pair of socks that fit, I only have this one stinking pair. Oh don't look at me like that. Nevermind, let's just go, I'll find socks later."

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Post  lord_luapssor Mon Jul 22, 2013 3:56 am

Brandon turning from the window and glances at the commotion happening outside coming in. Sighs. Brandon rasies his voice high enough for it to be heard over the constant noise of the outpost. "Dallas Abe go find out what the Major wants and report back to me." Looks around till he makes eye contact with Dallas "No going Lone wolf" Half grins. He then slings his kit over his shoulder and finds Isabelle. Reaching in to his right thigh pocket grabs a stethoscope. Finding Isabelle walk up to her and hands the stethoscope to her. "Put the camera down. Time to play nurse". He grins. "Have you seen Pat?"
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Post  Admin Mon Jul 22, 2013 5:06 am

Pilks and Vance stop their door-to-door, joining Henryk giving the Polish NCO a quick salute, their faces sharing a smile to the man. "Hey Sarge" Vance adds as they step in beside him. "Interested in some socks I traded off G-Company a couple of days ago?" Abe joins them out near them coming out of the make-shift aid station, greeting the men with a friendly nod, as inside the station Isabelle prepares to take over for the 2nd Lieutenant with Boone standing beside her. "You sure I am up for looking after patients?"
she asks a little nervously.

Men from Charlie, Baker, Falker and Chancer begin to assemble near the ruined parking lot where Major Gray and the Humvee's have turned off their engines. Some seating themselves on the rubbled walls that once stood tall to hold out those who were not suppose to be inside the hotel.
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Post  DEATH Mon Jul 22, 2013 9:05 am

Looking around slowly as the man assemble, Major Wilbur flashes them a few smiles and lets them get settled.

"Alright guys, you've all had a few days to get some rest even a bit of hot chow, since we pushed the ruskies out of this sleepy little seaside ville. And i know we've all been watching the boats move back and forth ferrying men of to god knows where in the Mediterranean."

Sweeping his gaze across the assembled men, the Major adjusts the rifle strap on his shoulder

"Well i can tell you now that were not going on a boat ride"

The Major hold his hand out in front of him to to suppress the the quiet grumbling from the men before they get out of hand and interrupt him

"We've been tasked along with Three other units to hold this town for as long as we can, which will let the remainder of the units pull out, and regroup in Africa. The colonel has had his eye on us for a while now. We've been together since the withdrawal from Milan. and since that day no matter what we have been faced with or how much opposition we've encountered in every Podunk Italian town we've fought in we have always got the job done. The colonel has asked us to give him 8 hours. and with your help i damn well intend to!!"

Unzipping his flack jacket, Major Wilbur pulls out a dog eared map and lays it out of the bonnet of the Humvee, and begins to mark out his plan to hold the town

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Post  DEATH Mon Jul 22, 2013 9:51 am

Brushing the Map out with his hands to ensure it was flat before stabbing his calloused index finder towards the red arrows on the upper left hand corner.

Soviet recon elements have been sited advancing from Genoa, along the A12 highway. ETA is 5 hours

sliding his finger towards the green dotted line

"Our Delta Force Boys have set up some surprises for them here. but I've asked them to focus on delaying the bulk of the main Enemy advance. which means that recon Element is ours."

moving his fingers to the green circles he looks up into his mens eyes.

"These 3 bridges are the only ones that remain to cross the bridges of the Torrente river for miles. We don't have to worry about defending the two nearest the coast. They should be going up any moment now, courtesy of a unit of Force recon marines, that would rather come with us and kill Russians, than baby sit some bridges. I Was only to happy to accept their help"

motioning to where the map is marked with P1

"This is where we will ambush the recon element. They have some armored vehicles, but with out tank we and some liberated Russian AT guns that the engineer unit have supplied, we shouldn't have a problem blunting their advance, and ambushing their infantry as they dismount. These roads are narrow and their are only a few of them coming down the into the town"

Sliding his fingers back to the locations on the map marked P2 and P3 The Major  grins broadly.

"These are our fallback positions. We don't have the number to take them in a stand up fight. We would be overwhelmed. but without their Armour, we have can engage them on an even footing. Well even ish... i managed to trade our jeeps to charlie company for these beauties and their oh so sexy Fifty Cals

Tapping the bonnet of the Humvee and grinning towards Specialist Randell sitting in the drivers seat.

"We hold them at each position as long as we can, before falling back. This isn't a suicide mission. Charlie Company will be holding the last bridge over the river. Once we fall back across it we will ex-fill along the A12 highway with Charlie Company towards the airfield in La Spezia. At which point we will be airlifted to Africa with the rest of our guys"
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Post  Lodis85 Mon Jul 22, 2013 2:27 pm

Sergeant Henryk Dubicki, all grins and humour after hearing his faithful yanks had acquired some new socks for him, felt his lips slump, gravity and a dark mood dragging them down into an unhappy frown. "We not leaving?" He whispers to himself in broken English. He flicks his eyes over his US rangers, trying to judge their mood and that of the crowd asa whole. Judging from the grumbles he could hear he certainly wasn't alone, but he suspected quite a few in the company were eager for a bit of a fight.

As he thought about it and the Major's little speech came to a conclusion, he squared his shoulders, sighed silently, and settled his mind on the task at hand. If he had to fight, at least his efforts would help many others to escape. He turned to address Charlie squad, "five hours, you know what means, ah... what that means, check your weapons, organise the gear, get some rest and wait for the order to move out." Henryk nodded briefly when he finished, then he cracked a grin when he remembered, "Oh, and Vance? My new socks please, what can me give for them?" He claps the ranger on the back and hopes the people around him don't notice the emotion in his broken English. 'Better get some rifle practice if there's time,' he thinks to himself.

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Post  whitescar Tue Jul 23, 2013 2:53 pm

Englebert offers barely a second glance as the orders are relayed, a faint glint of ... something .. gleams in his eyes as the word of action is announced. With a slight one sided smile he turns to Finbarr and rasps " ungefähr verdammte Zeit" before clasping his shoulder briefly.

Finbarr grins momentarily and replies "Zeigen Sie ihnen, was uns von Sir gemacht werden?"

In heavily accented English he speaks to the gathered Baker squad. "Pack your gear soldiers. It is time to show the stavard dogs what a cornered rat will fight like. Zey have taken our homes, but not our spirit. Make sure those guns are hitting on the spot.". He waves them towards the firing range and begins to head that way himself.
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Post  Typhus Wed Jul 24, 2013 11:23 am

After hearing the news about not moving out, i spit some chewing tobacco out, it landing on someone's boot then saying "this is bullshit". I make my through the soldiers to see the CO, Wilbur Gary a good man, tough but fair....."Sir a word?...this is bullshit why should we be risking our lives for a gutless bastard who wont stay here and fight himself?...i'll follow you into a fight sir but these orders are horse shit and you know it....sir"...spitting out another bit of tobacco.
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Post  DEATH Wed Jul 24, 2013 1:18 pm

looking up from the map Major Wilbur frowns towards Staff Sergeant Garret

"These are MY orders Staff Sergeant.Major Wilbur retorts with a scoul

"I for one would rather have control over my fate. That's why were staying, because i don't wont to leave this job to some other unit. and if we don't make this stand and run to the boats the ruskies will roll in to this town and slaughter us all. clasping his and over Staff Sergeant Garret shoulder and smiling.

"You fine men are the only ones i can trust to get this done" Wilbur says before leaning in closer to Staff Sergeant Garret ear and whispering "next time you want to question my orders staff sergeant, pull me aside privately. Your one of my senior NCO's. The men look up to you. Give them an example to aspire to. and we will all get out of here"
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Post  Typhus Wed Jul 24, 2013 1:56 pm

as the CO whispers his message into the Staff Sergeants ear he waits until the CO has finished then say's in a quiet voice back to him "sir i meant no dis-respect but the boys are riled up about not getting home to whatever it is they call home im just letting you know sir"...as i stand back from the CO i salute him and say "you give the order sir and i'll kill every damn russian i get in my scope".
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Post  Admin Thu Jul 25, 2013 4:38 am

The men of B-Company grumble a little at the news, the soldiers asked to take on yet another task while others leave is visibly hard on them however the confrontation of the NCO to the CO helped them understand and comprehend the severity of the situation in a way that gave them pause and for some a grim knowledge of what must be done.

PCF Pilks looks to Henryk then after a breathe and a small shake of his head he gives a wave to his men to follow up their NCO.

Finbarr seems content at the orders and conversation between him and his NCO, the members of their unit some pommies as well taking their weapons up tiredly. With so much to take on board the soldiers of B-Company part, preparing for orders as a member from A-Company enters the hotel, carrying a can of bright blue paint his black beanie easily designating himself as a member of the Force Recon unit.
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Post  lord_luapssor Fri Jul 26, 2013 12:26 am

Brandon walking though the hall and rooms of the hotel with Isabelle stopping to check on a few troops has he walks. He then stops and turns suddenly as he hears the news of attack preparation are being made. He then turns to her and says "Looks like it's time to go to work." With that both return to the make shift aid station that was once a meeting. Seeing a few solider sitting after packing there gear he turns to them. "YOU two go and bring at least six more beds, cots mattress what ever you find and bring them back here" Pointing and making eye contact with them to let them know he was talking to them. Brandon then turns his attention an other solider. "You go and find as much plastic sheeting as you can and get me some liquor. 100 proof or higher, preferably vodka. You must know somebody who has a stash of liquor. If they wont give it up tell them to see me.  And get me as much bleach, soap, industrial cleaner too you can find. Oh and Most important fresh CLEAN water. As much as you can. Grab somebody to help with it all." Again pointing and making eye contact with him. Turns to the final solider in the room "Go and find Major Wilbur and tell him I want to speak with him here. I have to prepare this area to receive in coming wounded and need extra resources that only he has."

After dispatching his orders, Brandon turns his attention back to Isabelle and smiles. "We have some work to do. Need to make an area for surgery, triage area and recovery. If we ever get to the recovery part. And yes I do think you are ready to treat people. I wouldn't let you out if I didn't think you were. And also I will be right next to you most of the time." He walk over to the area the he has selected for the trauma room. "This is where we will set up our trauma room. I want this spot to the most aseptic as we can at all times. Once the plastic get back we will use it rope off the clean area. I also want to two water basins. One inside of the room and one outside. We will wash or hands going in to and leaving the area. Plus as many as we can put here for cleaning when out with other patients." Points to the large doors are the front. "That is going to be triage. From there will dictate if a solider needs to go in to trauma room, bed or stand and sit. Most serious go to trauma, less get a bed and the walking wounded will have to find a spot to sit and wait. Sound callous but it's the only way. Still a lot better then Nepolean day but still a long way off from real triage procedure. Don't have any coloured banners" Brandon chuckles.

Both begin to move the furniture around. Once they have set up the trauma room, with out the plastic. Brandon pulls out his surgery kit. He lays on a small table next to a larger one. He begins to pull out the instruments from it and says "Isabelle when the shit hits the fan it's going to get crazy in here. There are going to men screaming for the mother, crying, doing anything to make sure that they or the buddy get seen first, even threaten or hit you. If that happens I want to find me or another member of our squad. You may have to righteous bitch at times too and say no a lot. Prepare yourself that ok?!" He then looks up and gives her gentle smile and sighs and grins. "Now if I need you, you will be my surgical nurse. You will hand me instrument when I ask. Time run though them." Brandon begins to show Isabelle what instrument is what, what it's used for, how to handle it and also how to hand it to him. With the occasional glance at the door when ever he hears foot steps.
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Post  Lodis85 Fri Jul 26, 2013 5:28 pm

Henryk turns to his men as they follow him from the major's briefing. The concern in their eyes worries him. He worries that he misunderstands their worries, but trie to ellay their fears nonetheless.

"Stop there," he tells them abruptly, "shit... ah, shit is correct word for fucked up situatiion, yes?" He sits on a nearby table, which he assumes was the hotel's checkin desk before the war but is now a bullet and red-stained mess, "me... I have seen my country... fucked, yes? Close enough. War, death, all is shit, yes? We have been fucked over passed few weeks all of us as we moved and fought. You men, you few have stuck by my sorry European arse and survived despite my misgiving for this war. But hear me now... I hate this shit," Henryk Dubicki said with a certain amount of distaste which he hadn't felt since he swallowed his last sweaty sock on that patrol near Capua, "this war, this death... it fucking sucks! I saw my parents die on the fields of my own farm, a privilege i hope you will never have to endure. Endure it you will though," he told them as he studied their expressions, "unless successful we are. This hour, I tell you to secure our supplies and belongings for the passage south on the ferries or whatever log-shit is provided to us, but the next? Get your khaki-shit secured and near those boats, we're going to kill those fucking ruskies... errr that is the term the major uses yes? Ruskies... Fuck! Yes! The quickest way we can before we get to fuck gone! And kill those Fucking... Fucking... Fuckers, those fucking destroyers we well!" Henryk looks down at his shaking hands and clasps his sides, looking for the trusty policeman's baton that he used to play with as a rookie.

He likes these yanks, these special-type 'rangers' as they call themselves, and he hopes that his enthusiasm for death and destruction for the bastards who stole the souls of his family has an impact on them. Perhaps he should have told them to save their lives at all costs, but he knows they're not berserkers, they're Americans, they're in it for the glory, the brothership, and the greater good. They know the odds, and they'll do their best to delay the Russian advance as much as they can.

Henryk secures his gear and asks Gronning to take care of it (no doubt asking another company's private to run all their gear to the docks), before heading towards the hotel's entrance desk to study the Major's map. "Brandon, Mr sir," he calls out as he crosses the empty beds that Lieutenant Boone's squad seemed to be setting up, "Don't we be leaving this... this shit-hole? Maybe sir the beds would be better set up on the docks, or incoming boats?" He doesn't wait for the lieutenant's reply before heading towards the map.

He studies the map and tries to decipher the Major's orders, concluding in his mind that he and his faithful US Rangers could only be employed for one task. With tat in mind, he heads towards the makeshift firing range and prays that PFC Finbarr can help him learn a few valuable skills about his appropriated AK-47 before they had to move out.

(To be edited for colour etc)

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Post  Admin Sun Jul 28, 2013 3:52 am

An explosion marked the change of atmosphere as the Force Recon troops joined with the defenders of B-Company, twelve men in total commanded by Master Sergeant Hughes they quickly managed to secure bright blue paint onto each man present to mark them as part of the allies so no cross-fire accidents happened. The explosion as they all knew where the bridges going that connected them to the boats, it was time to move.
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Act One - Home Never Seemed So Far Empty Re: Act One - Home Never Seemed So Far

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