Buddha C
24-03-2007, 16:14
Military Training Base, Fox 102
"Alright, enlisted scum!" The un-shaved First Sergeant yelled to his company. "I want you each to pick up your standard issue, Steyr Mannlicher M95, along with two clips. Do not worry! One clip is already loaded into the reciever of your rifle!" The troops broke single-line formation and ran towards the guns on the rack. They quickly passed the ammunitions station and each carried to en bloc clips. The squad met again infront of the First Sergeant. "Alright you illigidement bastards, go to that damn firing range and place on clip of ammo into the target that's one hundred meters away! But first bash your gun to the ground eight times!"
Private Jipz did as ordered, hating the names his sergeant told him he was. His mother was a prosituite so the 'illigidement bastard' comment hurt him deeply, bringing back sad memories of his childhood. He reach the rifle range, with his companions quickly. Placing the needed roundage into the target a hundred meters away. His First Sergeant again yelled to the squad. "Alright, fifty-three out of sixty rounds hit target, good job. Now expend a clip at the target two hundred meters away and then four hundred."
The squad did as ordered. Private Jipz himself was done before the rest, they had always called him the "Thunder 'Bolt'". The Sergeant read of their scores. "Two hundred meters, fourty-eight out of sixty hit target. And at four hundred meters fifty-one out of sixty hit target. Good job, maggots." The Sergeant's squad was suprised to recieve a compliment from the man and their moral was boosted highly.
Behind the squad came a woman for every man. The woman were carring the new T/Steyr Straight-Bolt M95C along with two en bloc clips. The men followed as followed and recieved the same orders as they had been given with the following gun, their Sergeant sounding off their scores. "One hundred meters, forty-nine out of sixty rounds. Two hundred meters, fifty out of sixty rounds. Four hundred meters, fifty-three out of sixty rounds."
The squad was pleased with the results, even though they much prefered their standard issue rifle to this alien gun, which aestetically looks much the same. Again, the same woman carring the new Gewhar Baultz C13 Straight Bot rifles, along with three en bloc clips replaced the soldiers' weapons. The troops of the squad adored the Prussian-made weapon and got quickly acquantied with the gun, firing down range, but this time they expended a clip into a target three hundred meters away.
The Sergeant immediatly sounded off the score of the squad. "One hundred meters, fifty-five out of sixty rounds on targets. At two hundred meters, fifty-six out of sixty rounds on targets. At three hundred meters, fifty-one out of sixty rounds on target. At four hundred meters, forty-three out of sixty rounds on target." The squad smiled as they heard the numbers. They had done good.
Military Bunker, Deep Under Warsaw
Field Marshall Jutiz, along with the other generals in the room read the firing range report. "Well then." Field Marshall Jutiz stated to the rest of the men in the room. "It seems our own country-made weapon has won."
John Baultz firmly agreed. "Yes, and we don't even have to worry about shipping it from other countries. Good and well. The Gewhar Baultz C13 will be the new standard issue weapon for the Gewtz." The men cheared as the comment was made, they were full of pride.
"Alright, enlisted scum!" The un-shaved First Sergeant yelled to his company. "I want you each to pick up your standard issue, Steyr Mannlicher M95, along with two clips. Do not worry! One clip is already loaded into the reciever of your rifle!" The troops broke single-line formation and ran towards the guns on the rack. They quickly passed the ammunitions station and each carried to en bloc clips. The squad met again infront of the First Sergeant. "Alright you illigidement bastards, go to that damn firing range and place on clip of ammo into the target that's one hundred meters away! But first bash your gun to the ground eight times!"
Private Jipz did as ordered, hating the names his sergeant told him he was. His mother was a prosituite so the 'illigidement bastard' comment hurt him deeply, bringing back sad memories of his childhood. He reach the rifle range, with his companions quickly. Placing the needed roundage into the target a hundred meters away. His First Sergeant again yelled to the squad. "Alright, fifty-three out of sixty rounds hit target, good job. Now expend a clip at the target two hundred meters away and then four hundred."
The squad did as ordered. Private Jipz himself was done before the rest, they had always called him the "Thunder 'Bolt'". The Sergeant read of their scores. "Two hundred meters, fourty-eight out of sixty hit target. And at four hundred meters fifty-one out of sixty hit target. Good job, maggots." The Sergeant's squad was suprised to recieve a compliment from the man and their moral was boosted highly.
Behind the squad came a woman for every man. The woman were carring the new T/Steyr Straight-Bolt M95C along with two en bloc clips. The men followed as followed and recieved the same orders as they had been given with the following gun, their Sergeant sounding off their scores. "One hundred meters, forty-nine out of sixty rounds. Two hundred meters, fifty out of sixty rounds. Four hundred meters, fifty-three out of sixty rounds."
The squad was pleased with the results, even though they much prefered their standard issue rifle to this alien gun, which aestetically looks much the same. Again, the same woman carring the new Gewhar Baultz C13 Straight Bot rifles, along with three en bloc clips replaced the soldiers' weapons. The troops of the squad adored the Prussian-made weapon and got quickly acquantied with the gun, firing down range, but this time they expended a clip into a target three hundred meters away.
The Sergeant immediatly sounded off the score of the squad. "One hundred meters, fifty-five out of sixty rounds on targets. At two hundred meters, fifty-six out of sixty rounds on targets. At three hundred meters, fifty-one out of sixty rounds on target. At four hundred meters, forty-three out of sixty rounds on target." The squad smiled as they heard the numbers. They had done good.
Military Bunker, Deep Under Warsaw
Field Marshall Jutiz, along with the other generals in the room read the firing range report. "Well then." Field Marshall Jutiz stated to the rest of the men in the room. "It seems our own country-made weapon has won."
John Baultz firmly agreed. "Yes, and we don't even have to worry about shipping it from other countries. Good and well. The Gewhar Baultz C13 will be the new standard issue weapon for the Gewtz." The men cheared as the comment was made, they were full of pride.