OCC: BOTH OF YOU, AND EVERYONE ELSE. PLEASE DO NOT JUST POST AN "OCC", YOU MUST POST SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER EVERYTIME YOU POST. THANKS

Sergeant Morgan took a drag off his cigarette, as the squad made their way up the frozen tundra road. Morgan looked at squad of fresh new recruits.

Stupid a**es better stay out of my way, morgan thought taking another drag off his cigarette. The truck slowed down, as they approached a road that seemed to have been hit by artillary the previous day. Morgan sat back looking up into the sky, which was overcast. Nothing could be seen except the dull gray of the sky, not a single fighter jet or helicopter was in the air. Sergeant Morgan looked at the squad sturnly.

"I dont want any of you a**holes getting in my way, if I or Sergeant "Gunny", drop to the ground or start moving, you just better do what we do", morgan looked at the squad sturnly once more, before returning to his cigarette...

"hey [censored] you! im not here to take crap, im here to blow a hole the size of Texas in every commie's head!" Sergent Morgan pretended to ignore him. " why the hell'd we stop?! what the hells goin on!?" Weasel jumps out of the back and sees the road "oh, i think if we're all high 'nough, we can make it over that" Weasel sifts through his bag and thows out half the "junk" in it "hhm stealth boy....crap, stimpaks......crap, bottlecaps, cool i collect these things, theyre a keeper! hmmm playboy.....keeep, oh there it is! my weed!" Weasel lights it and gives a gesture if anybody wants to smoke it. "come on morgan! quit smokin that crap, smoke somethin real!"

my b, misspelled sergent
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9HoIPCWGsY

Private John Bartholomew Stevens let out a pained sigh as he tried to adjust his power armor. The freezing air hit him as he moved his arms away from his chest, and allowed the wind to catch him momentarily. He had been sitting next to sergeant Gunney up until a minute ago. Unfortunately, he moved to the front of the truck, effectively dismantling Stevens' barrier against the frigid air. He rubbed his hands together and clutched his father's P230 as he watched the man across from him. Roland Darkwater, as his armor's ID tag indicated. He observed as Roland spun his coin around in his hand, and kissed it gently. Stevens finally decided it was time to risk talking to his squadmates.
"Hey, Roland." Stevens spoke quietly, and carefully." What's up with that coin, man?" No reply, just a stare. "It special? Lucky or somethin'?" Roland sat up and gave him a slight nod. Seeing that that was all that he was going to get for an answer, Stevens returned to observing the rest of the squad. Gunney and Morgan were sitting together, talking about their lives. Weasel was smoking some marijauna and staring at his newly drawn piece of art. The Chinese man that was sitting two seats down was staring at the wall opposite him, no emotion on his face. Suddenly there was a slight decrease in speed, and rattling of the entire truck as they turned onto a beat up road.
Stevens glanced out the back of the truck and let his mind wander to his home. His bedroom, always the warmest room, with his kitten always sleeping on his bed. His bed, the one place he really wanted to be right now. Where it was warm. His Mother and Father, and the rest of his family. These thoughts brought him a measure of comfort, as he absent-mindedly took out his father's gun and turned it over and over in his hands. The gun always brought him comfort. Maybe just like that coin. He glanced back at Roland and his coin. "I guess all that matters is that we have something that gives us hope. Something to hold onto."


OOC: Quick Background on Stevens
Age: 24
Weapons: M4, 2 frags, WWII knife, and his father's P230
BIO: Grew up in New York and joined the army at the age of 19. Worked as a convoy guard for the majority of his time. took a year off, vowing to stay away from war, only to be dragged back in as a late entry to Alaska. Initially only a background observer, nobody really noticed Stevens until he dicided to make himself a part of the team on the truck.

OCC: This is the last post for me of the night. I've got work in the morning. Oh and EVERYONE IS IN THE TRUCK.

Sergeant Morgan tapped on the trucks roof, signalling it to stop. The truck and the two truck behind, slowly stopped as Sergeant Morgan stood up and walked towards "Weazel", morgan blew the his cigarette smoke at the privates offer for some Marijuana, and then quickly punched the private in the gut. The private double back, falling to the ground, while Morgan stood above him taking a drag off his cigarette.

"GET THE F*** BACK ON THAT TRUCK, I'M NO COMMANDING OFFICER, BUT I'LL KICK YOUR A** BEFORE YOU CAN EVEN TAKE ANOTHER BREATH!", morgan leaned down to the private grabbing his armor around the neck, and landed a right hook into the privates face. The private held his stomach and cheek, as Morgan got back on the truck and sat in his spot. The rest of the squad looked on, acting like nothing had happened...

OCC: Ok I'm done for the night, I'll be back on later tomorrow. You can post on what just happened or something, but nothing to far into the story ie We are not at the front yet, we are still moving in the trucks, until me or SideWynder0 post again no fights, just arguments.

Kyle sat in the truck, noticing the young faces around him. Many of them had no idea what they had gotten themselves into , he noticed an asain. He harbored no bad feelings against them as he had been saved by a few more then once. He didn't really talk, didn't want to see anymore friends killed. He sat quietly and ate some insta-food.


OOC: Forgot to post character Sheet so here's a small part.

6,4 skinny framed 28 year old man.

He has fought in Alaska since the beginning and was part of the early US setbacks. He saw a whole company killed around him and has returned from 2 weeks of rest.

RANK: Corporal (Bumped back down from Sergent since new outfit has full strengh)

Roland ignored the dispute that broke out between Sergeant Morgan and that dog-breath fool of a man, apparently over marijuana. A man sitting next to him commented on his coin. Darkwater sighed briefly, and responded in an almost melancholy voice.
"Yeah. Yeah I guess you're right."
Roland slid the coin and it's chain into his pocket, and watched his own breath in the cold air. He withdrew the M1911 pistol from his waist, examining it closely. He had always loved how the chamber of the handgun was golden. Ornimental markings curved in and around the slide, down into twisting rivets on the grip.
"My grandfather gave me this gun. 1911. One of the most reliable firearms in American history. It was named after the day it was created. My granddaddy always said that this gun would save me some day. I guess when we finally hit the frontlines, I'll be using this over my rifle. I've never liked that M16. Too big and bulky. I prefer a handgun. Quick aiming, low recoil, great accuracy. Small clip though. So what's the story with you... 'Stevens'? Why'd you join up?"

Weasel climbed back into the truck cursing about Morgan's hostility toward having a little fun. He had another look at the chinese man and sighed, "Dude, we gotta get along of we want to make it past the first fight, anyway, you'll come to learn I'm a fun guy to be around, just gotta work with me here, have some fun, hey! lets steal Morgan's cigarettes!" weasel nudges him, the chinese man starts to crack a smile. "HEY MORGAN! YOU HIT LIKE MY GIRFRIEND!" "Is that true now?" "WHICH IS HARD AS HELL!" they share a good laugh. Weasel's face is already swelling "ah sh*t! i dropped my shades! anybody see 'em?" right here" it was the chinese man, "thanks bro, i owe you" "Hey everybody, did the news get around About a guy named Butcher Pete Oh, Pete just flew into this town And he's choppin' up all the women's meat!" the chinese man starts to sing "He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin' He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin' He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin' He just hacks, wacks, choppin' that meat!" "Butcher Pete's got a long sharp knife He starts choppin' and don't know when to stop All you fellows gotta watch your wifes 'Cause Pete don't care who's meat he chops!!" "whoohoo aint this a load a fun??" weasel takes out a compact holodisk player and starts to play 'butcher pete' "see? I'm a fun guy, the wild one, waaaha!" Weasel turned the music down a bit and began to walk around again and noticed roland with a handgun, "whats that you got there bro?" "its called the 1911, my grandfather made it, named it after the year it was made" "is it powerful?" "is it powerful? this thing would put a hole in steel buddy!" "sweet, maybe i can fire a few rounds off the next stop?" "sorry, no, its special" Weasel paused a look in his face, not anger, something else, depression, a sudden state of melancholy, "alright, I'm fine with that bro" he continued to walk around to someone eating some insta-food, "hey bro, you gotta talk to us, we could die before you know us." "exactly" kyle was his name, sad guy. "man dont think like that, i got a killer shot and if i have to I'll drag, limp or crawl to allow us all to live, i REFUSE TO ALLOW A SINGLE DEATH" kyle looked up, some hope in his eyes "alright, names kyle, weasel right?" "yea" he starts to whisper, "see that sergent morgan ass? me and that asian dude are gonna steal all his cigs, you in?" He looked up a little more "oh hell yea" "all right! now go introduce yourself to everyone else!" "sure okay" Weasel walks off with satisfaction and sees for the first time the sign of some action "woa! a wrecked up tank! its still on fire!" he leans his whole body out even further of the back of the truck. he slipped again, this time being dragged, he lets go with one hand, pulls out the picture of madison, kisses it and puts it back in his bag. "whooee! this is one hell of a ride! scratchin my boots though, a little help?"


BTW, i am a guy, i am straight please, the heart is a joke and a method of uniquness

Luke looked at Weasel as he put the holodisk into the player. The song Butcher Pete came on, but he wasn't a fan of it. He looked out of the truck. There were dead bodies of Chinese commandos and fellow soldiers alike. The ground was littered with them. One of the recruits threw up at the sight. Luke checked the assault rifle and its ammo. He then noticed the guy across from him waving a pistol around. He then looked at the Chinese guy and then realized that he was smiling for once. Maybe it was the guy Weasel. He brought some smiles through he group. He then put on the song "Way Back Home." He sang to the words while most of them just sat back and closed their eyes. They thought of home, they remembered home. Luke remembered home. His girl, his mom's baked apple pies, and his dog Hunter. He and his dog would go everywhere. He also remembered his friends. The sergeant woke him up, and asked if he had seen his cigarettes.

Stevens let out a short laugh as Weasel's request to play with Roland's M1911 was shot down. "Well, Roland, I guess I joined up because my life was boring. Purposeless, maybe. I felt a need to do something, anything. I fought in a couple small conflicts in the east. Nothing important. Guarding convoys for four years won't make you famous, no matter how many people you kill." Stevens' eyes suddenly lock onto the golden decorations on Roland's gun. " Hey, that gun is pretty sick man, can I see that for a sec? Here, you can hold my father's P230, handy little thing. It saved my life too many times to count." Stevens slipped his handgun out of his holster, looking at the black handgun with silver words engraved into the barrel. It read, 'Robert Stevens, a great soldier, and a greater man. rest in peace Dad.' Stevens smiled at the quick memory then tossed the gun across the truck, where it was caught skillfully by Roland.

"oh wow you guys are *ssholes! help me up!" no one heard im over the holdoisk player, now playing 'way back home' "alright dudes I'm getting pissed help me up, my legs are starting to get numb!" Everyone's eyes were closed, most of them singing, getting agravated he let go with one hand once again and fired a few rounds from his "lucky" 10mm smg "goddamnit! you're supposed to be lucky!"getting desperate he threw "lucky" at the chinese man he opened his eyes, angry at first, then burst out laughing and nudged the soldier net to him, who told everyone else, they were all laughing at him until sergent morgan noticed. He gave an angry look, seing his cigs in weasel's pocket and laughed along with everyone else...

I sent strange a message saying if we say so we should be able to use others in dialogue if we have their ok, i give my ok if he says that makes sense, cause weasel just gotta talk man!

Roland caught the P230, and promptly tossed his M1911 to Stevens. He examined the gun closely, noting the silver markings and the words engraved on it.
"Purposeless eh? I guess I'd have to agree. My life hasn't exactly had a big purpose up to this point. I've mostly lived with my drunk step father, hoping he would get sober some day. My mother died when I was young. I was born after my father's death, so my grandfather has been the closest thing to a father I've ever had. He taught me how to use his gun, that M1911 you're holding. He taught me to treat every bullet it fired as if it could end a man's life. And in my hands, it usually could. Thanks to his teaching."
Darkwater looked at the P230 for a bit longer, then handed it back to Stevens. He then withdrew his lucky coin from his pocket.
"This here was also given to me by my grandfather. He was a sniper, so he always needed a bit of luck. I'm sure we need all the luck we can get as well," said Roland, looking around at the snowy wasteland, filled with dead bodies.

The chinese man helped him back up onto the truck. Seeing he made a friend weasel asked his name "whats you name dude?" after a long pause he answered, "Hai" "well hello to you to now whats you name?" "HAI! H-A-I!' "oh, my bad so high, wanna get high?"

i hate to advertise my topics, but that fanfiction i got marked as aa work in progress; id appreciate yalls opinion on it

Sergeant Morgan sat back taking a drag of his cigarette, as the truck driver's voice talked into a walkie-talkie. All the truck came to another halt, as a tall man exited the truck behind theirs, and walked over to Private "Weazel", grabbing him violently. It was Commander Howard, he was not very happy, "Private, take off all your clothes except your boots RIGHT NOW", weazel did as the commander asked, grabbing his duffle bag from the truck. The private was scared and began to shiver. The private went to grab his gun but Commander Howard pushed his arm away, "Private, for discharging your weapon in a green zone, you have to run along side these trucks for the rest of the way, if you slow down for any reason, I will shoot you on the spot. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!", weazel knoded walking to the side of the truck, Sergeant Morgan got a short grin on his face, as Weazel stood next to the truck shivering, and looking at the Commander,"If you dont keep moving Private, your going to freeze to death, and I dont think you want that", the commander walked back to his truck and got in.

The drivers voice once again talked into the walkie-talkie, as they rolled out once more, Sergeant Morgan looked on taking a drag from his cigarette that was almost gone, as the rest of the squad laughed and taunted Private Weazel who was trying to keep up with the truck...

OCC: Just and FYI, if any of you think of doing something like that or something similar, I will post that you are punished. Oh and Sergeant Morgan got his Cigarette's back. Another thing also, NO ONE BUT ME OR SIDEWYNDER0 CAN HAVE POSTS TALKING AS ANYONE ELSES PLAYERS, YOU MUST WAIT, UNTIL THAT PLAYER REPLYS BACK. THANKS

Stevens took another look at Roland's M1911 and returned it.

"Hey Roland," He said after Roland holstered his weapon and, pulled out his lucky coin,"I know you aren't comfortable with that M16, so if you want I'll trade ya for the M4. I'm more useful with longer ranged weapons anyway." Stevens placed his father's gun back into his holster, adjusted his shoulder-plate with a sigh, and unslung his rifle. He gave it a quick inspection, and satisfied that it was in good condition, he handed it over to Roland for his consideration. He glanced at Sergeant Morgan and waited for his decision as to whether he would approve of the decision or not.

Darkwater watched as the hopeless man, Weazle, ran beside the truck, in nothing but his birthday suit. Poor fellow. Roland couldn't believe that he would be shot on sight for slowing down, but it was actually a good thing. Moving at that speed would warm his body and stay the cold and dark alternative of death. Roland sat back in the truck, thinking of Andrea. He finally realized frost was building up on his body, and his breaths had become slow and shallow. He would enter hypothermia if he didn't put on his power armor. And so as the truck rumbled onward, Roland stripped bare, and slipped on the bulky power armor. He was glad that the private couldn't laugh, because he was also bare naked, running beside the truck. After sitting down, strapped in the full suit of power armor (not including the helmet) Private Darkwater immediately began to feel a strong warmth flow through his body, and it wasn't natural.

The power armor was equipped with a powerful (pun not intended) heating system, built especially for those stationed in Alaska. Roland smiled, the warm armor comforting him. He hoped it wasn't constricting, for he missed his recon armor that he had worn years ago in the marines. Darkwater stared at Stevens, who was busy looking over his M1911 handgun. Maybe he would become good friends with that man. They sure seemed to have alot in common. Friendship was probably the only thing in the military that could combat the solitary, confined, depressing feeling of fighting for your life, other than Weazle's pot. Darkwater chuckled. Maybe Weazle's comedic acts would save them from the foreboding acts of bloodshed that would soon follow their arrival.

Stevens posed a question, after returning the M1911.
"Sure. I've never been good with this thing. I used a scoped M4 in the marines. He traded weapons with Stevens, and examined his new assault rifle.

Stevens handed his M4 to Roland, in exchange for an M16. He quickly reached into his duffel and placed a medium range combat scope onto the gun. He would have to sight it in later, but it sure beat running around in his uncomfortable power armor. His eyes became heavy suddenly, and he donned his helmet for extra warmth. He adjusted his position for a few seconds, then quickly drifted into a short sleep.

"Dude my balls are like ice cubes!" he was just wasting his energy, no one could hear him, he was panting hard. "I just thiught of something, maybe I should be called Ermine, its a weasel that turns white in the winter, im practically albino!" he tries to sing 'butcher pete' as quietly as possible. Weasel always jokes, his last words are probably going to leave everyone laughing. "ooh i shot my gun cause i was being dragged behind the truck and nobody notices whoever said hell was hot has never seen ALASKA!!"

Roland watched as Weasel sprinted exhaustedly beside the truck. Darkwater looked around the truck at all the power-armor clad soldiers. Stevens was asleep, Morgan was smoking a cig as usual, and Hai appeared to be reading something. Roland wished that they would get there already, for his patience was wearing thin. He wanted to exact vengeance on the army who killed his grandfather.

Pvt. Jack Gursky
Weapons: SAW, 44. magnum.
Armour: T-31B power armour ( OCC: Did I get that right?) T-31B power armour helmet with Red Cross on it.
Ecuipment: Duffle bag that contains: Scalpel, scissors,a few stimpacks, a few Med-X, tweezers, and bone saw, a few gernades, and 2 metal containers of cigars. He also has a Bandoiler.
Task: medic
Apperence: about 150 pounds, 5'10, Brown rugged hair with a brown goatee, Caucasian, rugged skin from war.
Age: 24
Reason for Being in the War: His brother was killed in Anchorage also, and wants to provide for his pregnant wife and son.

Pvt. Gursky was fortified in a trench when throught the fog an snow he saw the lights of a convoy coming.....

The convoy slowly trudged through the snow headed toward a small set of buildings set between what looked like a snow field, and an ice field. Trenches surrounded the whole base and even ran deep into the snow fields. Small buildings like this were located along the trenches providing a line of defense to hold the Chinese invaders. Gunny sat in the back of the truck and silently listened to his music as the group bickered. One soldier in particular seemed to have gotten on Morgan's nerves, which wasn't easy, and was really not a good idea. The trucks came to a stop outside the set of buildings. Snow began to buildup on the top of the trucks as the command staff entered the building.

Guess its our turn to watch the little ones..

"Alright you green thumbs! If you don't get moving your gonna turn blue out here!" The whole squad was standing in a line shivering even with their power armor on. Sergeant Gunny stood in his PowerArmor with the helmet tucked under his arm. He seemed completely unaffacted by the cold draping the entire area like a blanket. "Get into those trenches and get yourself a comfortable position. You will notice small side holes in the snow underground. Those are your bunks!. The buildings are reserved for command staff and munitions. If I even see you take a piss near one. I will personally send you out to the commies with nothing but a butterknife and what your momma gave you!" The squad let out a hoorah and began to jog toward the trenches followed by Morgan who shouted a string of obscenities at the new soldiers. Gunny approached the one soldier named Weasel who had begun putting his gear on.

"First off soldier," Weasel stiffened suprised by the voice behind him, " it's really not a good idea to piss of the command out here. Now I'd be the first person to grin at a joke and I really don't care what you do in your free time. But leave this cr*p back where we came from!" Gunny grabbed the bag of marijuana from the soldier and tossed it over his shoulder into the slowly moving iceflows. " It will slow you down out here and if you slow us down. I will shoot you myself, and you know what. I really won't feel bad about it. We can be friends or enemies, don't make it difficult out here."
The Sergeant spit out his toothpick into the snow and it was quickly replaced by another.

Gunny turned and hefted his M60 over his shoulder and jogged off toward the trenches. Soldiers had already begun to set themselves up in the makeshift shelters set into the bottom of the trenches.He spotted Morgan set up closest to the command structures with another soldier. Gunny picked one furthest from the group set more toward the distant trenches winding into the snowfields. He poked his head in and was surprised to see the Chinese man already setting up shop on the first cot set on one side.
"Looks like we're bunking again eh? Just keep to your side and we'll be fine." The sergeant dragged his foot across half the room drawing a line in the light snow floor.

OOC- Ok the trench travels north to south... we are on the furthest northern set of trenches. North of us is the iceflows and south is the snowfields The trenches end in the set of structures we are at. We have bunked in the trenches headed south. The trench is deep enough to stand in and there are boxes and snow shelves to stand on and use to fire from. The bunk holes are set down low in the trenches and set about shoulder high so you need to duck your head. They each hold 2 soldiers a pieces and have 2 small cots/ a stove/ and 2 footlockers for your gear. There is also warm clothing for when you aren't in your powerarmor. No combat until notified you are describing getting set up in your new home and any exploring you do. Remember this is the Military, discipline will be dolled out as needed to the characters for different activities -if we catch you- up to our discretion. Any questions PM me please, and save your OOC to be the beginning or end of a post not just one post for OOC, to keep post number down. Thankyou

P.S Describe getting set in and choosing a bunkmate. I've chosen the Chinese man personally... Morgan doesn't have a pairing yet unless he describes one. It's first come first serve. You are to pick any between me and Morgans bunks. I have set up furthest south toward the fields and Morgan has set up closest to the command structures

Once your settled in I will continue the story, sorry about my abscence I had a trip to take care of.

Sergeant Morgan walked over to his bunk, placing his duffle bag into his footlocker. He saw that Sergeant "Gunny", had bunked next to the china man, which did'nt bother him much, but he still was'nt sure about him. Morgan did'nt care who bunked next to him, just as long as they kept their mouth shut, and did'nt bother him. The day was cold, and morgan decided to take his heavy T-51b Power Armor off, he quickly changed into some warm clothes, that were more comfortable and easier to move around in. Sergeant Morgan decided to take a walk outside and exsplore his new home...

"Sir, Corpral Johnson reporting" he said but didn't salute. "I need some permission to grab power armor, sir"

Stevens stood in the trench, barely affected by the cold down here. He looked left and right and saw holes slowly being occupied. He saw one that mostly everyone was staying away from, and for good reason too. It was Morgan's. Stevens took off down to the Command complex, stopping just before the trench started lifting. He made a quick turn and dropped into the last hole. Inside were two bunks, two footlockers, and a small stove with some wood. One of those beds was already occupied, so Stevens grabbed the other one. He placed his helmet, chestplate, and arm guards into the footlocker, and put on his fatigues sweatshirt. He dropped his frags, knife, and mags in the footlocker as well. Stevens placed his M16 on the bunk, and walked outside. He kept with him only his lower power armor, and of course, his father's P230. He really just wanted to stay out of Morgan's way for a bit, one of the smartest ideas he ever had

Roland stood atop a snowy hill, looking over the trench, and the snow cots, which lay behind it. He had left his armor and gear on his bed, and decided to explore a bit. But even with the two large coats he wore, the cap, gloves, snow boots, double-layer pants, and goggles, the cold wind still found a way to seep towards his bare skin. He rubbed his hands together, and decided to return to his snow cot. On the way over there, he saw Sergeant Gunny leaving a cot, which was currently occupied. Darkwater could tell that Hai had really impressed Gunny. He also saw a man, "Corporal Johnson" according to his ID tag, shivering outside of the buildings. It looked as if he was trying to find the suit of Power Armor he had left behind. Hopefully they would have an extra set for him. It was then that Roland made a life-changing decision. He saw an innocence, a pureness in that young man's eyes. When worst came to worst, Roland knew he would have a better chance surviving without Power Armor. He had served half a decade in the marines, afterall.

Roland sprinted towards his snow cot, and retrieved the power armor he had lain on his bed. He ran back out into the snow, and found the man still waiting outside the buildings, making sure not to get close to the forbidden zone.
"Hey!" Roland shouted, waving his arms. The man spun around, expecting Morgan or Gunny to scold him.
"Catch."
A surprised look appeared on the young man's face, as the Power Armor helmet landed in his arms.
"The rest is in your cot. No need to thank me. Just get your ass out of the cold and wait for orders, Corporal."

The man was speechless. Roland left him there, and returned to his cot. There he found Private Stevens, placing an M16 on his bed.

Morgan walked around the trench lighting a cigarette, as he walked. The trench was roomy, well it had to be if soldiers in Power Armor were going to be rushing back and forth, Morgan thought to himself about the ever present threat.

Damn Chinese, why dont they just stay home and leave us alone?, morgan thought, stepping onto a spotting step.

The land was flat and barren, only things that stuck out, were the chinese machinegun nest and spotting posts. As morgan looked around, spotted something moving over on the chinese lines, he could'nt make it out, so he went to grab some binocular's he had bought while he was in Germany. The binoculars were high powered, with those binoculars morgan could see past the chinese trenches. As morgan walked over to his bunk, he noticed the commanding officer's looking over a map, talking about something. Morgan reached into his foot locker, quickly finding his binoculars, "Damn these are good", morgan muttered to himself, as he placed them around his neck. As morgan stepped out of the hole, he took a nice long drag off his cigarette, he slowly exhailed as he walked back over to the spotting post.

Morgan could still see some kind of movement over on the chinese line, he did'nt that it was anything really important, he was just curious. As morgan held his binoculars to his eye's, he spotted some chinese soldiers rushing around, yelling and talking to each other, maybe the chinese were'nt as bad as he thought. As morgan stepped down from the step, the sudden sound of bugels coming from the chinese trench's sounded. Sergeant Morgan knew that sound, and quickly rushed to his bunk, to gear up. The battle that would soon follow, would not be pretty...

OCC: Ok for everyone who has posted about their character being at the trench's. Your posts should talk about what your character is doing as the bugels sound, and what they are doing before the battle. NO fighting. For everyone who has'nt posted about their character being at the trech's. Your posts should talk about what your character thinks of the trench's and what they are doing before the bugels sound, and before the battle. thanks