Wanderjar
19-02-2007, 01:23
(OOC: This RP is a simulation between myself and ThePeoplesFreedom, simulating a war between the United States and Iran. It is closed for participants, until otherwise stated, however comments and other productive chatter as OOC is quite allowed and is actually encouraged. I hope all enjoy.
~Wanderjar)
0100 Hours, March 15th, 2007
Iran-Iraq Border
Five soldiers from the United States Florida National Guard stood and sat tiredly around one of the several checkpoints which occupied the roads from Iraq into Iran. The team leader, a Sergeant Michael McCarrion was the only one of the group remaining vigilant. He'd been through three tours in Iraq. He knew that letting your guard down, even for a moment, could mean instant death of ones self or others of his squad. That wouldn't happen without a fight. Not on his watch, not to his squad.
"Keep your baby eyes open," He grumbled to the slumping Guardsmen. "The Iranians have been stepping up activity lately in this sector."
"But Sarge," groaned one of the younger Guardsmen, a Private Richard Edwards from Tampa Bay, "Nothing ever happens out here. You say the same line every time we get this duty, and nothing ever happens. We're safe man!"
"Now you listen here," He began, his eyes dialating and voice growing softer, a tell tale sign of facing his impending wrath. "I've been in the trenches here for three god damn years! I know what the hell is going on and how to keep your sorry asses alive. I've seen far too many young pricks like yourself get blown apart, shot, captured, and other wise maimed, to let my guard down again. Ever."
An African American Corporal from Port St. Lucie nodded in agreement. "The Sarge is right Rich. I've been here with the last deployment and I know for a fact that its no good to leave your guard down at all. Keep your rifles ready and keep watching for anything. You gotta be ready for anything." Richard and the other two Privates just nodded solemnly.
An hour passed with still yet no activity. Private Edwards had fallen asleep, and by now Sergeant McCarrion didn't care. He decided that maybe nothing would happen. Maybe tonight these men who'd pulled guard duty for several months now all over this sector and seen nothing could get some frankly well deserved rest. He had just fallen into the biggest trap and ultimate mistake of his life.
He failed to see them coming through the darkness. They crawled low, ditching their packs several hundred feet away behind a series of rocks which easily concealed their location. The listening post which the American Squad occupied was a series of three close together foxholes, inwhich the Americans kept watch. The Takavar Commandos, elite Special Forces units of the Persian Artesh, or Army. They had been bringing supplies to Insurgent Forces, however this American position was too tempting to pass up. They were relatively loud. As there was close to no ambient noise, any sounds at all were seemingly magnified by the human ear, and as such the Persians had known of their presence and had been monitoring them for close to an hour.
"Do we have confirmation to attack?" The Commando leader asked his Commander quietly over his radio.
"Yes," Came the reply. "Slaughter the infidels."
"Very well." With that, using a Soviet-era AK-74 with an attached 6G-15 grenade launcher, he fired one of the 20mm High Explosive Grenades into one of the foxholes. It exploded brilliantly in the night sky, leaving a blinding evanescent light in the Takavar Commando's Night Vision Goggles. The two Privates who had earlier said nothing were instantly blown apart, pieces of their devestated bodies landing around the crater that had been their foxhole, blood landing on their fellow squadmates meters away.
"Where the hell are they?" Screamed Private Edwards, hunkering down in his foxhole as 7.62mm Rounds from the Commando's Kalashnikov Rifles and their one RPK Machine gun. "I can't see them!"
"Their over to the East!" McCarrion shouted. "Return Fire! Corporal," He screamed to the Corporal from Port St. Lucie, "Get on the horn and tell HQ we're under attack! I think its the Iranians."
"Yes sir!" He said, and got to it. "PAPA BEAR! PAPA BEAR DO YOU READ? THIS IS RED-06. WE ARE UNDER ASSAULT BY IRANIAN MILITA-" This was all he managed to say, before another grenade landed in their foxhole.
The Sergeant was blown out of the hole, and several meters away. He lie on his back when he hit the ground, feeling suprisingly...good? There was little pain aside from the burning in his face, and an odd numbness in his legs. He made an effort to look down, but didn't see anything, rather a pool of blood where his legs, his thighs, his lower body should have been. He never realized what had happened, the darkness claimed him too quickly. As the blackness began to wash over, however, he managed one last outburst, "God speed Edwards!" and all faded away.
Edwards was now on his own. He knew he didn't stand a chance against all those armed gunmen, and so he laid down his rifle, and exited the hole in the dirt.
Hands raised high, he awaited them as the intimidating figures, slumped over and weapons ready, hurried over and detained him. He was now a prisoner of Iran. All over the Iran-Iraq border, similar events occured. Almost a hundred Americans died as Iranian Takavar Commandos, along with Iraqi Insurgents, assaulted numerous check points, convoys, and other positions throughout the region. All hell had truly broken loose.
By the next day, his capture was all over the news. Al-Jazeera declared it a massive victory for Islam, and the ultimate victory against the Great Satan which was the United States and the decadent Western World. The United States called it a terrible tragedy. The United States Government felt differently all together.
President George W. Bush sat in his office, reading the news paper front page, which detailed the events. Almost the entire staff had squeezed into the Oval Office to be near him while he decided what was to be done, or to provide their own professional advice. Closest to him were the Joint Chiefs, each ready to provide their own Military Council.
He sighed heavily, and looked up from the paper at the Cheif of Staff, "What do we do?"
"Sir?" Came General Peter J. Schoomaker's reply.
"I am frankly at a loss." The President stated frankly.
"Well sir, I feel there is only one option. The public is outraged, and is calling for Iranian blood. We have to give it to them."
"True, but the people are tired of war. They made that clear with the last elections! Not to mention that Congress won't go for it."
"I wouldn't be so sure. If they voted against going for payback after them attacking our troops and killing so many, it would destroy their careers. They have no choice."
"Well then, it appears we have a decision then. To war with Iran!" He said. "Any objections?" There were none. "Alright then. I'll leave it to you men to plan this operation. Its going to be huge, and I don't know if we have the man power to do it, but we must try. Let's do this!"
(OOC2: TPF, if you eventually want to declare a draft in the United States due to lack of military personnel, assuming my military is able to fend the Americans off and cause enough casulties, thats ok, for I'll likely have to do the same thing.)
~Wanderjar)
0100 Hours, March 15th, 2007
Iran-Iraq Border
Five soldiers from the United States Florida National Guard stood and sat tiredly around one of the several checkpoints which occupied the roads from Iraq into Iran. The team leader, a Sergeant Michael McCarrion was the only one of the group remaining vigilant. He'd been through three tours in Iraq. He knew that letting your guard down, even for a moment, could mean instant death of ones self or others of his squad. That wouldn't happen without a fight. Not on his watch, not to his squad.
"Keep your baby eyes open," He grumbled to the slumping Guardsmen. "The Iranians have been stepping up activity lately in this sector."
"But Sarge," groaned one of the younger Guardsmen, a Private Richard Edwards from Tampa Bay, "Nothing ever happens out here. You say the same line every time we get this duty, and nothing ever happens. We're safe man!"
"Now you listen here," He began, his eyes dialating and voice growing softer, a tell tale sign of facing his impending wrath. "I've been in the trenches here for three god damn years! I know what the hell is going on and how to keep your sorry asses alive. I've seen far too many young pricks like yourself get blown apart, shot, captured, and other wise maimed, to let my guard down again. Ever."
An African American Corporal from Port St. Lucie nodded in agreement. "The Sarge is right Rich. I've been here with the last deployment and I know for a fact that its no good to leave your guard down at all. Keep your rifles ready and keep watching for anything. You gotta be ready for anything." Richard and the other two Privates just nodded solemnly.
An hour passed with still yet no activity. Private Edwards had fallen asleep, and by now Sergeant McCarrion didn't care. He decided that maybe nothing would happen. Maybe tonight these men who'd pulled guard duty for several months now all over this sector and seen nothing could get some frankly well deserved rest. He had just fallen into the biggest trap and ultimate mistake of his life.
He failed to see them coming through the darkness. They crawled low, ditching their packs several hundred feet away behind a series of rocks which easily concealed their location. The listening post which the American Squad occupied was a series of three close together foxholes, inwhich the Americans kept watch. The Takavar Commandos, elite Special Forces units of the Persian Artesh, or Army. They had been bringing supplies to Insurgent Forces, however this American position was too tempting to pass up. They were relatively loud. As there was close to no ambient noise, any sounds at all were seemingly magnified by the human ear, and as such the Persians had known of their presence and had been monitoring them for close to an hour.
"Do we have confirmation to attack?" The Commando leader asked his Commander quietly over his radio.
"Yes," Came the reply. "Slaughter the infidels."
"Very well." With that, using a Soviet-era AK-74 with an attached 6G-15 grenade launcher, he fired one of the 20mm High Explosive Grenades into one of the foxholes. It exploded brilliantly in the night sky, leaving a blinding evanescent light in the Takavar Commando's Night Vision Goggles. The two Privates who had earlier said nothing were instantly blown apart, pieces of their devestated bodies landing around the crater that had been their foxhole, blood landing on their fellow squadmates meters away.
"Where the hell are they?" Screamed Private Edwards, hunkering down in his foxhole as 7.62mm Rounds from the Commando's Kalashnikov Rifles and their one RPK Machine gun. "I can't see them!"
"Their over to the East!" McCarrion shouted. "Return Fire! Corporal," He screamed to the Corporal from Port St. Lucie, "Get on the horn and tell HQ we're under attack! I think its the Iranians."
"Yes sir!" He said, and got to it. "PAPA BEAR! PAPA BEAR DO YOU READ? THIS IS RED-06. WE ARE UNDER ASSAULT BY IRANIAN MILITA-" This was all he managed to say, before another grenade landed in their foxhole.
The Sergeant was blown out of the hole, and several meters away. He lie on his back when he hit the ground, feeling suprisingly...good? There was little pain aside from the burning in his face, and an odd numbness in his legs. He made an effort to look down, but didn't see anything, rather a pool of blood where his legs, his thighs, his lower body should have been. He never realized what had happened, the darkness claimed him too quickly. As the blackness began to wash over, however, he managed one last outburst, "God speed Edwards!" and all faded away.
Edwards was now on his own. He knew he didn't stand a chance against all those armed gunmen, and so he laid down his rifle, and exited the hole in the dirt.
Hands raised high, he awaited them as the intimidating figures, slumped over and weapons ready, hurried over and detained him. He was now a prisoner of Iran. All over the Iran-Iraq border, similar events occured. Almost a hundred Americans died as Iranian Takavar Commandos, along with Iraqi Insurgents, assaulted numerous check points, convoys, and other positions throughout the region. All hell had truly broken loose.
By the next day, his capture was all over the news. Al-Jazeera declared it a massive victory for Islam, and the ultimate victory against the Great Satan which was the United States and the decadent Western World. The United States called it a terrible tragedy. The United States Government felt differently all together.
President George W. Bush sat in his office, reading the news paper front page, which detailed the events. Almost the entire staff had squeezed into the Oval Office to be near him while he decided what was to be done, or to provide their own professional advice. Closest to him were the Joint Chiefs, each ready to provide their own Military Council.
He sighed heavily, and looked up from the paper at the Cheif of Staff, "What do we do?"
"Sir?" Came General Peter J. Schoomaker's reply.
"I am frankly at a loss." The President stated frankly.
"Well sir, I feel there is only one option. The public is outraged, and is calling for Iranian blood. We have to give it to them."
"True, but the people are tired of war. They made that clear with the last elections! Not to mention that Congress won't go for it."
"I wouldn't be so sure. If they voted against going for payback after them attacking our troops and killing so many, it would destroy their careers. They have no choice."
"Well then, it appears we have a decision then. To war with Iran!" He said. "Any objections?" There were none. "Alright then. I'll leave it to you men to plan this operation. Its going to be huge, and I don't know if we have the man power to do it, but we must try. Let's do this!"
(OOC2: TPF, if you eventually want to declare a draft in the United States due to lack of military personnel, assuming my military is able to fend the Americans off and cause enough casulties, thats ok, for I'll likely have to do the same thing.)