Isapolis
10-01-2009, 23:18
OOC:
Basically, this post concerns the formation of a new offensive unit in the nation of Isapolis. I just felt like posting something.
IC:
PFC Mindy Kuhn stepped quietly over the fallen tree, her combat boots squishing quietly in the fresh mud generated by two whole days of almost constant storms. She flexed arms in peril of falling asleep, and was rewarded with a slightly irritating tingle. Water droplets leaked down over the front lip of her combat helmet, sometimes obscuring vision. A chill mist hung low on the ground, obscuring the muddy forest trail in places and making traps left by the enemy more difficult to locate. As a result, the eight soldiers in the patrol were keeping an especially low speed, almost a crawl, even compared to usual patrol runs.
Kuhn and her platoon had been tasked with tracking down some terrorists from one of the indigenous Muslim extremist cells that had become so common these days. The job was a long, boring, but mildly dangerous one, and the thirty soldiers of the platoon had been out in the remote woodlands for two weeks already. Thus far, they’d had no luck.
“Contact right!”
Kuhn’s senses lit up with the sudden, bellowed warning from the man on point. Dropping into a prone position on the ground, she settled her L1A1 rifle into position and fired off a long, semi-automatic burst, quickly squeezing the trigger six times. The bullets tore into a line of bushes where her squad mates were also attacking. Two SAW guns and six assault rifles tore away into the under growth. Her team leader, Corporal Gulzar, rose up and sent in a grenade in a quick underhanded throw. He didn’t move quickly enough however, and he was shot square in the chest, falling back into the muddy ground. The grenade blast set her eardrums ringing, and she heard a few screams, from both sides.
In the next few moments, it was over, the gunfire stopped, and an eerie silence descended in the forest. The fog was already burning off, dissipating as the Sun went high.
“Good work, Two-Three!” The instructor’s voice broke in on every soldiers helmet mike, letting them know the exercise was through. The soldiers did not waste time looking for a hidden observer, as they would have done weeks previous. They knew they wouldn’t find him. The instructors were just too damn skilled to be found.
“Kuhn!” the voice continued. “That was good reaction time; Gulzar…not so much.”
Everybody chuckled at that, including Gulzar, as his squad mates hauled him up from the muddy trail. It was a serious laugh, however, from people who understood the job they all had to learn to do right if they were going to survive.
“Sergeant Torres, lead your squad back to your Platoon Rallying Area. Command, out.”
“Alright, boys, you heard the man! Let’s move! Airborne does not dawdle!”
Kuhn smirked at that. All eight soldiers were volunteers for a new unit now being formed in the army of Isapolis, the 1st Airborne Infantry Battalion. It was to be the first unit in the military forces of Isapolis specifically intended for foreign deployment. The unit was also looked upon by many as the soon to be elite unit of the Army, and as such it had attracted loads of young impressionable soldiers, as well as a few long-service types who wanted a little bit of a challenge in life.
Kuhn had been on the first busload of new trainees, and had managed to survive a months long Hell known as Airborne Training. Lung-bursting cross-country runs and the sessions in obstacle courses were followed by tactics, weapons, route marches, more fitness, and a little foot drill, surprisingly little, to be honest. When she’d asked about that, she was told it was because Airborne did not dance about, Airborne killed people.
Kuhn smiled. This was the challenge she had joined the Army to find.
Two Weeks Later…
“Airborne doesn’t dance, but when it does dance, it fucking does it properly!”
Those had been the words of a snarling drill sergeant during the intense foot drill that had immediately preceded the graduation parade when the men and women who had survived long months of training to earn the maroon beret issued to the Airborne force.
Kuhn tried to smile as she reached up to adjust the beret on her dark hair, but still, she felt less pleased than she could have, really. Her family had been there, all smiles, but she had received posting orders. Unlike most of her fellows, she would not be joining one of three rifle companies in the battalion, or the scouts company. She would not even be positioned in the Battalion HQ. Due to her impressive skills, displayed during training, she would be kept on at the depot as an instructor, helping break in new recruits. On one side, she felt a little happy, because this was a mark of great respect, but on the other, she was upset. She had joined to fight, not teach others how to fight.
“Good morning, Corporal Kuhn!” The Chief Instructor’s voice startled her, and she stood hurriedly to attention as he approached. First Sergeant Sabriyya laughed as he came.
“Calm down, Corporal,” he said, then paused. “Still getting used to the new rank?”
“Yes, First Sergeant,” Kuhn said with a nod.
“How about the new post?” Sabriyya asked, and smiled at Kuhn’s grimace.
“Don’t worry, Mindy,” he said quietly. “You’ve been put here for a reason. Before long a new Instructor’s going to be put here and you’ll get that combat posting you want, except it’ll be with more rank, more seniority, and more respect.”
“Ah…” Kuhn thought a moment. “Put that way…this doesn’t seem so bad.”
“That’s the spirit!” Sabriyya said with a chuckle. “Hey, once you’re done saying hi to the relatives, why don’t you join me and some of the depot staff, and we’ll all go get drunk?”
“Sure,” said Kuhn with a nod. “Sounds good.”
“See you then, Corporal.”
Basically, this post concerns the formation of a new offensive unit in the nation of Isapolis. I just felt like posting something.
IC:
PFC Mindy Kuhn stepped quietly over the fallen tree, her combat boots squishing quietly in the fresh mud generated by two whole days of almost constant storms. She flexed arms in peril of falling asleep, and was rewarded with a slightly irritating tingle. Water droplets leaked down over the front lip of her combat helmet, sometimes obscuring vision. A chill mist hung low on the ground, obscuring the muddy forest trail in places and making traps left by the enemy more difficult to locate. As a result, the eight soldiers in the patrol were keeping an especially low speed, almost a crawl, even compared to usual patrol runs.
Kuhn and her platoon had been tasked with tracking down some terrorists from one of the indigenous Muslim extremist cells that had become so common these days. The job was a long, boring, but mildly dangerous one, and the thirty soldiers of the platoon had been out in the remote woodlands for two weeks already. Thus far, they’d had no luck.
“Contact right!”
Kuhn’s senses lit up with the sudden, bellowed warning from the man on point. Dropping into a prone position on the ground, she settled her L1A1 rifle into position and fired off a long, semi-automatic burst, quickly squeezing the trigger six times. The bullets tore into a line of bushes where her squad mates were also attacking. Two SAW guns and six assault rifles tore away into the under growth. Her team leader, Corporal Gulzar, rose up and sent in a grenade in a quick underhanded throw. He didn’t move quickly enough however, and he was shot square in the chest, falling back into the muddy ground. The grenade blast set her eardrums ringing, and she heard a few screams, from both sides.
In the next few moments, it was over, the gunfire stopped, and an eerie silence descended in the forest. The fog was already burning off, dissipating as the Sun went high.
“Good work, Two-Three!” The instructor’s voice broke in on every soldiers helmet mike, letting them know the exercise was through. The soldiers did not waste time looking for a hidden observer, as they would have done weeks previous. They knew they wouldn’t find him. The instructors were just too damn skilled to be found.
“Kuhn!” the voice continued. “That was good reaction time; Gulzar…not so much.”
Everybody chuckled at that, including Gulzar, as his squad mates hauled him up from the muddy trail. It was a serious laugh, however, from people who understood the job they all had to learn to do right if they were going to survive.
“Sergeant Torres, lead your squad back to your Platoon Rallying Area. Command, out.”
“Alright, boys, you heard the man! Let’s move! Airborne does not dawdle!”
Kuhn smirked at that. All eight soldiers were volunteers for a new unit now being formed in the army of Isapolis, the 1st Airborne Infantry Battalion. It was to be the first unit in the military forces of Isapolis specifically intended for foreign deployment. The unit was also looked upon by many as the soon to be elite unit of the Army, and as such it had attracted loads of young impressionable soldiers, as well as a few long-service types who wanted a little bit of a challenge in life.
Kuhn had been on the first busload of new trainees, and had managed to survive a months long Hell known as Airborne Training. Lung-bursting cross-country runs and the sessions in obstacle courses were followed by tactics, weapons, route marches, more fitness, and a little foot drill, surprisingly little, to be honest. When she’d asked about that, she was told it was because Airborne did not dance about, Airborne killed people.
Kuhn smiled. This was the challenge she had joined the Army to find.
Two Weeks Later…
“Airborne doesn’t dance, but when it does dance, it fucking does it properly!”
Those had been the words of a snarling drill sergeant during the intense foot drill that had immediately preceded the graduation parade when the men and women who had survived long months of training to earn the maroon beret issued to the Airborne force.
Kuhn tried to smile as she reached up to adjust the beret on her dark hair, but still, she felt less pleased than she could have, really. Her family had been there, all smiles, but she had received posting orders. Unlike most of her fellows, she would not be joining one of three rifle companies in the battalion, or the scouts company. She would not even be positioned in the Battalion HQ. Due to her impressive skills, displayed during training, she would be kept on at the depot as an instructor, helping break in new recruits. On one side, she felt a little happy, because this was a mark of great respect, but on the other, she was upset. She had joined to fight, not teach others how to fight.
“Good morning, Corporal Kuhn!” The Chief Instructor’s voice startled her, and she stood hurriedly to attention as he approached. First Sergeant Sabriyya laughed as he came.
“Calm down, Corporal,” he said, then paused. “Still getting used to the new rank?”
“Yes, First Sergeant,” Kuhn said with a nod.
“How about the new post?” Sabriyya asked, and smiled at Kuhn’s grimace.
“Don’t worry, Mindy,” he said quietly. “You’ve been put here for a reason. Before long a new Instructor’s going to be put here and you’ll get that combat posting you want, except it’ll be with more rank, more seniority, and more respect.”
“Ah…” Kuhn thought a moment. “Put that way…this doesn’t seem so bad.”
“That’s the spirit!” Sabriyya said with a chuckle. “Hey, once you’re done saying hi to the relatives, why don’t you join me and some of the depot staff, and we’ll all go get drunk?”
“Sure,” said Kuhn with a nod. “Sounds good.”
“See you then, Corporal.”