The day is June 5th 1944... The day before the 2nd great war begins for the United States. No more needs to be said. The only question remains...do we jump?
The sun hangs high over the airfields of England. Troopers run around caring whatever gear they have. All soldiers, all trained, all ready. All you can hear is a garble of mess as the small squad of hero's sits in their own corner of the airfield, fully packed up ready to fly, weapons in hand and wings on their uniforms. Everyone is called to general assembly.
Major Powers: An older man in uniform stands on top of a Viper made Jeep. It may have been Ford that gave the army the jeep but it was Viper who invented them. FALL IN!!!! FALL IN BOYS! After a moment pause he speaks up again. English channel is blocked up with fog! NO JUMP TONIGHT! I SAY AGAIN! NO! JUMP! TONIGHT! Gather your gear and report back to barracks.
Most of the soldiers make a quiet aww to themselves. They were ready to fight. Everyone hated the waiting. The units started to disperse back to their respective squad barracks.
With a sigh, Jericho takes a seat at his bunk, cleaning his Springfield.
"I could use a stiff drink. Too bad my vodka was taken. Contraband, pfft."
Curt takes a drag of his cigarette reaches under his pillow and tosses a flask of whiskey over.
Jericho takes the flask and takes a swig. "Thanks comrade. I'm not much for whiskey, but it's nice on occasion."
He hands the flask back, offering his hand. "Jericho Nichnytsai, Marksman."
Curt takes the flask in one hand and shakes with the other "Curt Baumann." He takes a drink "Assault. So, are you bored with all this sittin around yet?"
"Bored? Heh, I'll bet watching paint dry would be more entertaining. Of course, this is the Army. We're to be on watch at all times, so we may be watching paint next." He sighs then goes back to getting his rifle ready.
Curt lies back, finishes his cigarette, and takes a nap.
Curt snaps awake when he hears all the shouting going on outside.
He heads over to the door and looks out. Seeing the commotion he turns to Jericho. "Hey Jerry, check it out. The Major's tearin into that wanna-be officer chick."
Jericho takes a look out the tent. "I hope this doesn't get too hairy. They may be covering our backs, and I want to know they'll be fighting Nazis instead of each other."
Once we get to the other side of the pond I'm sure well all get along just fine. Just don't let Olvesky see you. We don't wanna be peelin potatoes right next to em.
Of all those who had complained and grumbled at the delay of the jump, few had been as incensed as Arsène. At the news, the tall man had immediately erupted into a quiet but vehement, stalking off from the assembled crowd of the other soldiers. He was in no mood to return to barracks to engage in the same bored conversations he and the other men had been doing ever since they had arrived. He was ready. To be denied the chance to move in on linerating France was akin to a slap in the face. Not for the first time, he regretted not heading to London to join de Gaulle's forces.
A few minutes of stalking about the base and a few cigarettes later, Arsène's mood had mellowed out. He wasn't in a good mood, no, but he was never the sort for good moods to begin with. Still. With nothing else to do, he wordlessly made it back to the barracks. Hopefully someone had a game of cards going...
"I don't know about you, but I could go for a game of blackjack."
"Blackjack? I want in."
Arsène had managed to step in at the right time, it seemed. His grasp on the English language was somewhat tenuous, but he was quick to pick up on certain phrases. Cards and gambling were one of them.
"Deal me in, gentlemen."
Count me in too! Better than disassembling this pistol again.
"Right then. Name, rank, and starting bets. I'll play house. Say...one cigarette to start."
"I am Jericho Nichnytsia, Specialist in Marksman's Corps. My best shot was a quarter 100 yards away. Dim light."
He deals to Arsene, then Curt, then Pete, getting names and such as he deals.
Corporal Williams, Peter. Call me Pete. He says as he puts down a single stick.Transmitter Specialist. Someone decided I get a radio instead of a rifle.
"Arsène Perreault." He glanced around at the others briefly, offering a terse nod. A cigarette of his own was produced and tossed onto the beginnings of a pile.
Curt tosses in a cigarette "Curt Baumann," He lights one of his own "Don't worry Pete, I'll do enough shootin for the both of us."
"This will be the best of times my friends. Wish us luck, eh?"
He deals, preparing cards and setting his own cigarette down.
"Hm." Arsène frowns at Jericho's comment. "It is a 'ard fight ahead first."
"Once I get the Transmitter in place, I'll be wanting a rifle, hope the Kraut's, no offense Curt, Hope I can find a decent gun over there." Pete reorganizes his thoughts mid sentence to prevent any hard feelings.
"Looks like I'll take another draw please."
"Better."
We are arguing about how to represent things in a game, in a game, using things outside a game. LOL
Jericho takes a look at the clock on the wall. "We should be calling it a night soon. We may be dropping tomorrow, and we need to be ready."
Setting his pistol under his pillow, Jericho goes to sleep to the familiar sounds of the barracks.
Curt finishes his cigarette, checks that he gear is ready to go, and goes to sleep.
As the nightly activities wound down, Arsène was one of the last to drift off to his own bed. There he lay for a long time, staring at the bland featureless ceiling ahead of him. As the hour grew late, the Frenchman found himself not the least bit tired. With the promisr of what was to come looming on the horizon, how could one even think of slumber?
In time, though, sleep finally did come for Arsène.
Pete, checks his gear, and performs his nightly routine one last comfortable night, and passes out shortly after getting under the covers.
alright, moving on.
Everyone only gets about 3 hours of sleep. The traditional military horn blares out as CO's and other higher ranked officers storm into all the barracks, lights in their hands.
officer LETS GO ON YOUR FEET SOLDIERS! CHANNELS CLEAR! WERE LEAVING IN 2 HOURS! GET YOUR S!+~ TOGETHER! LETS GO GO GO!!!! The officer leaves and the base suddenly comes alive as everyone is woken. The time has come. It was early, too early for this kind of crap. The outside air was cold, but adrenaline was taking over everyone. Nobody cared about the cold. The loud speaker of the base came alive shortly after.
Loud Speaker: All pathfinders report to your planes, all pathfinders we are mission go. I say again mission is go. Check all weapons and equipment before reporting to your field commander. Transmitter team, your transmitter will be waiting for you at your plane. God speed soldiers...
Everyone make a will save. You did not get the full amount of sleep required. Give me a will save to see if it will negativity effect you.
alright, moving on.
Everyone only gets about 3 hours of sleep. The traditional military horn blares out as CO's and other higher ranked officers storm into all the barracks, lights in their hands.
officer LETS GO ON YOUR FEET SOLDIERS! CHANNELS CLEAR! WERE LEAVING IN 2 HOURS! GET YOUR S~$& TOGETHER! LETS GO GO GO!!!! The officer leaves and the base suddenly comes alive as everyone is woken. The time has come. It was early, too early for this kind of crap. The outside air was cold, but adrenaline was taking over everyone. Nobody cared about the cold. The loud speaker of the base came alive shortly after.
Loud Speaker: All pathfinders report to your planes, all pathfinders we are mission go. I say again mission is go. Check all weapons and equipment before reporting to your field commander. Transmitter team, your transmitter will be waiting for you at your plane. God speed soldiers...
Everyone make a will save. You did not get the full amount of sleep required. Give me a will save to see if it will negativity effect you.
Curt bolts out of bed. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He grabs his gear and sprints out the door as soon as hes dressed, determined to be the first one on those planes.
Jericho joins Curt, moving as fast as he can to get ready.
Hey Richo! Last one there's a sour kraut!
Arsène was quick to be jolted awake when the horns began blaring. The CO's were only noise to him, their encouragement unnecessary as Arsène scrambled with the others, throwing on clothes and grabbing his gear. So eager was he to get going, the normally fastidious man completely skipped his morning shave and preparation, smoothing his dark hair down with his hand as he scrambled to his plane. Finally! Finally the time had come! May God favor them on this day.
Pete jumps out of bed, and hits his head on the bunk above him. But quickly enough he rolls out of his bunk and grabs his gear, then makes his way to the assembly area.
The plane is a beautiful, a worthy vessel for your travel into hell and back. "The bombshell" is her name. As is tradition, there is a beautiful lady painted on the side, the unique part about this one...she is sitting on a turtle. Don't ask why. Only the pilots know. Standing next to the plane is a handful of other soldiers, one of them being Major Powers.
Powers: Well now. Looks like we get to go. One of you take the transmitter... FALL IN BOYS!
The soldiers gather together and sit down in jump order (Give me a "Jump" order). A small prayer is given, and Powers pulls every soldier onto their feet, one by one so they can board the plane.
Curt would find that with all his battle gear he cannot even fit into the cockpit...further more the pilots of the plane are right behind him, grab him by the back and pull him back to his seat on the plane.
Pilot: What the **** are you doing soldier!? You are a paratrooper not a g&# d#*ned pilot! Leave the flying to us. Just sit down, shut up and quit trying to hijack our plane....
The pilots are mad at him for that. Can you blame them.
[ooc] I will ask you guys not to look at the other game, Olvesky is not in this campaign. Your Major was Powers. Just ignore the other game completely please. you and they will never cross paths.
The loud roar of the planes, along with the adrenaline of actually going now, keeps everyone awake.
Not a word was spoken. If it was, nobody could hear it. Everyone was nervious. Everybody was pretty green. Lack of experiance is getting to everyone. Finally the red light in the cabin lights up as you hear the subtle thumps of flak guns.
Jump man (don't know his offical name) : EVERYBODY STAND UP!....HOOK UP! He then opens the door and you see everything. The night air is filled with tracer rounds from machine guns, AA turret placements and flak rounds. From a distance the first person in the plane can see another Ally plane being shot down. A sudden red of fire fills the air as the main cabin explodes. All were lost in that. Fortune has it. None of you saw this.
Jump man: EQUIPMENT CHECK!
paratroopers: 12 ok 11 ok 10 ok 9 ok 8 ok 7 ok 6 ok 5 ok 4 ok 3 ok 2 ok 1 ok!!!!!!
Moments later the green light is lit and one by one the paratroopers exit the plane into a hail of bullets and shrapnel. If they look below they can see hundreds of canapes opening up and men floating down to secure the objective areas.
Curt curses in his head after botching the jump after all the training.
perception
He looks around and realizes he's alone not where he's supposed to be. He finds some cover and figures out his next move.
stealth
geography... untrained
(muttering) I knew I should have paid more attention to the damn maps
climb
Curt climbs a tree to spot the closest chute and moves in that direction. He leaves the main and reserve chute behind, hes now carrying a medium load and has a movement speed of 25.