Author Topic: Grymn Fluff - Life in the support battalions  (Read 4145 times)

Offline Inso

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Grymn Fluff - Life in the support battalions
« on: February 19, 2013, 10:22:37 AM »
Mortar 1

The war-weary, veteran sergeant emptied the tobacco from his pipe as he stared at the young Grymn that were standing in front of him. His bionic eye whirred slightly as it changed focus during the sweeping inspection of the troops. Everything was still and apart from the whirring of the sergeant’s eye, the only other sound was the tap of his pipe against his metal arm. The sergeant took a small pouch from his pocket, removed a small amount of fresh tobacco and refilled his pipe before stowing the pouch again. He stared for a second at his pipe and a small beam of light ignited the tobacco enough for him to start smoking. He drew heavily on the pipe and was pleased to find that it was properly alight.
“Hmmmm” said the sergeant as he re-appraised the troops. It was the usual crop; a mixed bag of male and female, post-training troopers who had displayed no aptitude for the regular infantry and was palmed off to the support units. The sergeant puffed on his pipe and slowly paced along the front rank of troops.
“Hmmmm” he repeated. There was a platoon’s worth and in amongst them he had to find a few leaders, a comms specialist, a couple of medics and a second in command. Normally, he would have had one of his regulars as a 2I/C but his regiment were deployed at the moment so he was stuck with what was in front of him.
“Platoon! Stand at…EASE!” said the Sergeant and the troops did as they were commanded. “At least they know how drill properly” he thought.
“Welcome to the support battalions” said the sergeant “I am sergeant Brom ‘Bomber’ Horson. You will refer to me as sergeant at all times.”
There was silence.
“I said… you will refer to me as sergeant at all times” repeated Brom.
“Yes sergeant!” replied the troops.
“That’s better” replied Brom “by now, you will have noticed my cybernetics. I would just like to explain how I came to lose both of my legs, an arm and an eye. I was a corporal on a mortar team and I was in charge of a pair of new recruits. We had been on the range all morning and the team was doing really well up until the loader dropped a round into the barrel before the previous one had been launched.” Brom paused and looked at the troops. There was a mix of surprise, fear and indifference written across their faces.
“The resulting explosion shattered the mortar; killing the two recruits instantly and peppering me with shrapnel” continued Brom “what you can see is the aftermath of nineteen months of surgery, grafting, integration training and pain.” Brom looked each of the troops in the eye and had already worked out who the leaders were.
“I will separate you into your sections. When I point I want you to gather in groups of four over there” said Brom “Group one… you, you, you and you. Group two…” he continued until there were six groups gathered with three remaining where they first stood. “You three will be on my section” said Brom. He approached the groups, assigned positions and briefed everyone on where they were to be housed and what time they were expected to report before dismissing them to get settled in.
“Here we go again” thought Brom as he puffed, wistfully on his pipe before strolling off towards the mess.
« Last Edit: October 13, 2014, 07:31:21 PM by Inso »
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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #1 on: February 20, 2013, 02:07:47 PM »
Mortar 2

The mortar platoon gathered at the front of their billets. They were all dressed in boots and fatigues, minus their shirt. Instead they had a sweatshirt and they were dressed for physical training. Brom stood at the front of them, formed them up into lines and then they all jogged off towards the running circuit. Brom was similarly dressed but was wearing the same shorts he had worn when he greeted the troops the day before; just to show off his metal legs. If you hadn’t known his legs were cybernetic, you would never have suspected there was anything different because he ran just as fluidly as any other Grymn.

After a short, three mile run, they all rested and that gave Brom the chance to see how they were coping and judge fitness levels. There were no issues and they all seemed remarkably fresh so Brom got them to do various exercises to keep their blood pumping. He led from the front and did all of the exercises he expected them to do. After about an hour, a grav-buggy appeared with refreshments and the platoon gathered together to rehydrate and chat together. The conversation quickly got onto why they had been selected for the support battalions and Brom listened intently as one by one, they explained what they had failed to achieve during training. To his surprise, three of the troopers had elected to join the battalion, even though they had passed infantry training. One of those three said “well… they need leaders, don’t they?” and immediately Brom had found his 2I/C. “Let’s see if his actions can match his boasts” thought Brom. After a brief respite, they all gathered their wits and jogged back to their billets so they could shower, have lunch and be ready for the training session in the afternoon.

“This is a Barnes Wallace, type two, infantry support, Mortar. It is a very old and trusted design that has been hammering the enemy for the last thirty cycles” said Brom “as you can see, it consists of a firing tube, a base, adjustable legs, an angle setting device and a safety mechanism” as he spoke he pointed out the various objects using a laser-beam from his bionic eye “it is fully collapsible and due to the use of anti-gravity technology, is very light to carry.” All around him, seated on the ground, the troops were watching his every move. Brom moved over to a folding table and picked up a mortar round. “This is a dummy round. You can tell this by the red and white band. It is a standard, fragmentation round without being armed” said Brom and he put the round down and picked up another one “this is a dummy, high explosive round. Note the sharp point on the tip. This will convert into an armour-piercing ‘shaped charge’ on impact.” Brom looked around and was pleased to see that all of the troops were paying attention so he put the round down and picked up the next one “this is a dummy incendiary round. It is used to flush the enemy from forested or built up areas. It contains a highly efficient chemical that burns on contact with the air and sticks like a tick to a gnar-beast.” Brom put the dummy incendiary down and picked up the last of the mortar rounds “this is a smoke round” he said before he threw it, forcefully at the ground near the troops and it immediately began pumping out a thick, green smoke. Brom just stood and watched as some of the troops stayed where they were, some jumped for cover and one threw herself on top of the round. Brom walked forward and lifted the trooper clear with his metal arm and picked the round up with his opposite hand. He then threw the round a distance away and put the trooper on her feet.
“Explain yourself, missy” said Brom.
“I can’t, sergeant” she replied.
“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one” said Brom to everyone “I saw that in an old sci-fi film and I think it has merit.”
The troopers all looked at him with bemused faces.
“Some of you froze, some of you went for cover and one of you went to fight” said Brom “the test I just set was to see how you reacted and now we all know.” He paused for a moment and looked around again “war isn’t designed or planned… it just happens. Often we are under pressure, under-equipped, in un-familiar conditions and far away from home. Your basic training has equipped you with the basic skills to get you by. Now you will learn about the stark realities of conflict and you will learn that, with the correct preparation, you can confront those realities and survive.” Brom walked over to a small bush that was at the rear of the little training area and removed a large black box. Written across the box was the word ‘BOMB’ in bold yellow letters. “Can any of you guess what this is?” asked Brom rhetorically before he placed it in front of the troopers “if this was the real world, the device would have detonated and wiped us all out. Being a trooper in the support battalion isn’t a game. We go where the infantry goes and we dig in like the infantry does. We need to learn, and be able to use, many of the techniques that the infantry develop and put into practice every day. Our lives and those of the infantry we protect will be put at risk if we don’t do our jobs properly… and that includes checking areas where we are going to set our mortars up” Brom had everyone’s undivided attention and he smiled inwardly before saying “everyone, get into your sections.” They all did so and Brom was joined by his three apprentices “right… follow me” he said and he walked them all over to a pile of green crates. “Each section grab a crate and find some space” he said and once they had all done as he asked, he instructed them to open the crates and remove the mortar from inside. They all laid the parts on the ground as instructed and once Brom’s section had done the same, he started showing them all how to assemble the weapon. After ten minutes and a lot of detailed discussion, Brom was satisfied that they all knew what each component was for and could put the mortar together so he simply said “take it apart” and stood back to watch. It took them all a couple of minutes to strip the mortar down again and Brom praised them before telling them to re-assemble them. This continued for an hour before Brom decided it was time for a race.
“The first section to assemble the weapon correctly, strip it down again and put it in the crate correctly will get a crate of mead. The last section will pay for it” said Brom “my section will have to do it without my help. Ready? GO!”
There was a flurry of activity and Brom watched to see if his thoughts about who would make the best leaders would hold true. He was not disappointed as, one by one; each section developed an instinctive leadership chain. Surprisingly, one of the voluntary troopers showed little motivation towards leading but worked well as part of a team.

Brom made sure he kept an eye on the assembly of each of the mortars and was happy that each section had done so correctly. As he suspected, his own section was slower than the rest but were still coping with the job, even if they were reduced to three troopers. At the end of the test, all of the mortars were packed away and the winning section was announced. Brom’s section was last so he said that he would buy the mead because he had disadvantaged his section by leaving it. Together, they all loaded the boxed mortars into a waiting transport and were directed towards the training building whilst Brom collected the dead smoke round and training ‘bomb’. When he arrived in the training building he met the platoon in the foyer and showed them to the theatre. Once they were all seated, Brom explained that they would be watching a series of training films and with a thumb up, the films started. The first film was all about how mortars were used in battle and detailed the history of the support battalions and, in particularly, the mortar companies. The second film was an instructional film on the Barnes Wallace, type 2, infantry support mortar that consolidated the practical and instructional training they had received that afternoon. The third and final film was an instructional film on the correct firing of the mortar and a step-by-step guide on how the mortar rounds were propelled from the firing tube, armed and also showed the effects of the different rounds on staged targets. Once the films were over, Brom stood up and went to the front of the theatre.
“That is the end of training for today. Tomorrow, we will be going to the range and we will begin the process of training you all to fire the mortar. Hopefully, by the end of the day, you will have assembled, fired and learned the basics of targeting” said Brom “we will be firing dummy rounds tomorrow but they still contain explosives so the day will be treated as a live firing exercise. Take away what you have learned today, think about the dangers you will be encountering tomorrow and make sure that you take one of these leaflets so you are correctly equipped… you will need your body armour and helmets for tomorrow.”
The platoon remained seated and was quiet but looked expectantly at Brom.
“Training is finished… you can go” said Brom.
The troopers left and Brom shook his head while smiling “they need to lose their recruit attitude” he thought. He switched off the lights and went on his way.
« Last Edit: February 20, 2013, 02:16:43 PM by Inso »
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Offline Inso

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #2 on: February 25, 2013, 04:47:04 PM »
Mortar 3

Brom was happy to see that all of his troopers had turned up correctly equipped and had also collected their rations from the mess because they would be away for the day. They all boarded a waiting grav-transport and in a few moments, they had left the camp and were on the open road.

The range was a vast, barren complex with a small cluster of buildings, various structures filled with sand (for small arms training) and a variety of hard points for tanks, artillery and other heavy weaponry. Once they had all booked in and received the safety brief they all re-boarded the transport and were taken to the mortar points. Once they arrived, the platoon unloaded the transport and began to set up their mortars by section. Brom inspected the mortars before issuing orders to open the ammunition crates but leave the rounds inside.

“In this exercise, we will be firing one round each. Once you have fired your round, you are to remain in position until I tell you to move” said Brom “section leaders will select the firing order.” He waited for the section leaders to choose the firing order and once he was happy chose the firing order for the command section. He would not be taking part in the exercise but would carry out a couple of demonstrations before it started.

“Each section, unpack four rounds and carefully place them in the hazard marked area to the left of the mortar base plates” said Brom “I expect to see all live rounds in that area unless they are packed in a crate or you have been given orders to remove them.” He watched the sections remove the rounds from the crates, strip the wax paper from them and place the rounds in the correct area. He then went and unpacked a couple of rounds for himself and asked everyone to gather round.

“Helmets on, everyone” he said and they all did as they were asked “select your rangefinders on your optics and look over there. You will see a white patch marked on the ground with a red patch in the centre. What range is it?”
“Three hundred metres, sergeant” said one section’s leader.
“Good. Now what bearing?” asked Brom. There were a few bemused looks but Brom noticed one of the gunners flick his optics on to compass mode before saying “five degrees east of true north, sergeant”.
“Well done” said Brom “someone knows about bearings and how to switch between different optic modes… something you were all taught during basic training. I expect you all to know this and I am disappointed that you haven’t demonstrated what you have been taught.” There were a few red faces but Brom knew that by tomorrow, the platoon would be expert at getting bearings so he continued with his lesson. He removed a telescopic pointer from his top-pocket and extended it.
“Here is the compass on the base” said Brom and he pointed it out “as you can see, this line is parallel to the barrel direction and if you look at the compass dial, the forward end is currently set to what bearing?”
“Twenty five degrees east of true north” said two section’s loader.
“That’s correct” replied Brom “and how do you change the bearing?”
“By pulling out the adjusting pin and rotating the top plate of the base” said Brom’s 2I/C.
“Good… could you adjust it for me?” asked Brom. The 2I/C adjusted the mortar to the correct bearing and stepped away from the mortar.
“How do we adjust the range?” asked Brom.
“By setting the correct elevation of the firing tube” said four section’s spotter “you pull out the knurled pin and turn the adjuster which raises or lowers the tube.”
“Good… show me” said Brom and he watched as the spotter adjusted the mortar to the 300m setting.
“Right, put your ear plugs in and stand back” said Brom and they all did as they were asked. Brom then collected one of his rounds, selected the safety on the side of the mortar to fire and dropped the round into the firing tube. There was a pop as the launch charge ignited and the round exited the firing tube. They all watched as it flew across the range to land a good 50 metres from the target. There was a splash of dust but no detonation because it was a training round. Brom turned towards the troops and told them to remove their ear plugs.
“Who can tell me why the round is so far past the target?” he asked. There was silence until three section’s spotter suggested “the target is lower than we are… we haven’t taken this into account when setting the range.”
“Well done!” said Brom “exactly right… so how do we find out how much lower the target is?”
“Is there a setting on our optics?” asked the spotter.
“You tell me…” said Brom and he watched as everyone began cycling through their optic settings.
“Is it the elevation setting?” asked two section’s gunner
“Try it out and let me know” said Brom.
“We are sixty metres higher up, sergeant” said the gunner. Brom checked using his bionic eye and was happy with the answer. “Everyone, look this way” said Brom “what is this?” He pointed to a second adjuster on the elevation plate.
“That offsets for height differences” continued the gunner.
“Correct. Please adjust it” said Brom. The gunner did as he was asked and Brom told everyone to put their earplugs in and stand back before firing a second round. They all watched as the round splashed the sand in the white marked area; close to the red centre.
“Good” said Brom “we have now learned that there are three main adjustments required to target the mortar but we have forgotten one very important thing. Can anyone tell me what that might be?”
There was silence so Brom pointed to a small glass dome on the base of the mortar.
“You need to check that the base plate is level” said one section’s gunner.
“Exactly” said Brom “that is the most important check of all because all adjustments are dependant on the correct datum being set. Not setting the datum can be the difference between winning a battle and losing it.” Brom checked the bubble inside the dome and said “as it happens, the mortar base is level but we must always remember to check when we set the mortar up and also after we have fired every twenty five rounds… if we have the opportunity to do so.” Brom stood up straight, placed his hands on his hips and said “return to your mortars and set them up correctly, for firing.”

That afternoon everyone got a chance to fire a few rounds and adjust the mortars to bring them onto target correctly. There were no accidents and Brom was satisfied that they could be trusted to continue with the training. At the end of the day, after they had packed the mortars up, a small transport turned up and off loaded some equipment before driving off again. The troopers looked at Brom and he simply said “I thought it would be nice to do a spot of camping. I’ve marked an area over there for our shelters and we have been given the use of the facilities here so feel free to select your section shelters and get them erected. There is everything we need… even disposable tooth-brushes… so get to it.”
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Offline Inso

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #3 on: February 27, 2013, 02:53:27 PM »
Mortar 4

Brom used the camping sessions to get to know his platoon. It was the best way to see how they ticked because it allowed for all those little annoying tendencies people have, when they relax, to surface. Over the next couple of months Brom’s platoon got used to training, camping and live firing and slowly but surely, they began to gel and become a cohesive unit. In amongst mortar training, Brom exercised their skill at arms, reconnaissance skills, mine clearance abilities and survival skills. They learned how to move as a unit, live as a unit and fight as a unit.

“Platoon! Platoon…SHUN!” ordered Brom “platoon! General salute! Present… ARMS!” There was the associated drill movement and all was quiet. Brom turned to face the commanding officer and saluted; his metal arm shone in the sunlight. After receiving the nod, he turned to face his platoon again and ordered “Platoon! Shoulder…ARMS! Stand at… EASE!”
The commanding office stood in front of the platoon and said “Your Sergeant has assured me that you are now worthy to join my battalion so don’t make a liar of him. You have trained well and have achieved excellent results in a short amount of time so well done. I have left your new patches with the sergeant who will issue them to you after this parade. Wear them with pride because you are now representing our battalion and with that comes the responsibility of maintaining its proud reputation.” He turned to Brom who brought the platoon to the general salute, saluted the officer and once he had departed, brought the platoon back to ease.
“Well done, everyone” said Brom and he began to give each of the troopers their cloth badges. In amongst them he also had some lance corporal badges which he issued to the chosen squad leaders and his 2I/C “the rank slides come with privileges of pay as well and they have been duly authorised…so don’t let me down.” Brom finished issuing all the badges and stood the troops down with orders to get the badges attached to their uniforms and for the leaders, to read up on their terms of reference.

From now on, the platoon was considered ready for active duty and was put on general duties.
The light at the end of the tunnel is just someone with a torch, locking the gate.

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #4 on: February 28, 2013, 03:08:03 AM »
 :applause: good little story Inso
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Offline Inso

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #5 on: March 01, 2013, 10:00:17 AM »
Mortar 5

“STAND TO! STAND TO!” shouted Brom as he dashed from room to room. It was just past midnight and he had received urgent orders for his platoon. It must have been important because he was contacted by the Battalion commander directly. Everyone threw on clothing and dashed to the muster point where Brom arrived a short moment later.
“2I/C has a muster been taken?” asked Brom
“All present, sergeant” replied the 2I/C.
“Excellent, thank you” said Brom “I know things have been quiet for the last month or so but I have been given orders for us to deploy. I could have waited until morning to tell you but it would have only given you a few hours to square your admin away. We are all to be fully kitted and assembled ready to deploy at 15:00 hours tomorrow.”
Brom paused while an admin approached and handed him a stack of paper be fore disappearing again.
“Everyone is to take a kit list and be at the med-suite for 13:00 hours tomorrow. Bring what kit you have and make a note of any shortfalls. They will be provided at the med-suite by the suppliers” said Brom “until then, prep your kit and contact your family members… I cannot give you any other details apart from the fact that we are deploying to a war zone and replacing a depleted platoon… make of that, what you will.”
Brom ushered the platoon on their way after dishing out the kit lists and returned to his billet. He checked the kit list, opened a locker and retrieved a fully packed kit-bag, back-pack and webbing “That should do nicely” he thought before he got undressed and returned to his slumber.

At 13:00 hours, everyone had assembled at the med suite as instructed. There was a host of kit arranged in platoon order on the hard-standing outside and each of the piles of kit had a list on top which the suppliers were busily checking for short-falls. The platoon was lined up out side and one-by-one entering the med suite for their pre-deployment checks and vaccinations. Brom was chatting to everyone to see what the mood was like and apart from one or two little issues, was glad that it was up-beat. Once the medical admin was squared away, everyone unpacked their kit and re-packed it with the additional items they had just been issued. Momentarily, the armourers turned up with their vehicles and began to unload the rifles, pistols, mortars and ammunition for the deployment and once they had departed, the movers appeared ready to load the incoming heavy transport.
Brom looked around and saw that the platoon was working as a team. Where troopers were having difficulty packing, others stepped in and helped. Where there were sad faces, someone stepped in to check welfare. Where there were questions, they were answered or pointed towards Brom who answered and reassured. Brom was proud of his platoon.

The heavy lifter rose from the airfield and accelerated upwards to meet up with the frigate in orbit. As soon as it had landed in the shuttle-bay, the doors closed and the vibration of the frigate’s engines could be felt as they powered up for an immediate departure. The public address system in the heavy lifter sparked into life and said “please remain seated and do not exit the shuttle. The journey time is expected to be one hour and fifteen minutes.”
“Sergeant?” asked Ham; the 2I/C “Am I right in thinking that we are being kept on-board for an immediate departure on arrival at the war-zone?”
“I would say so, Ham” replied Brom. Ham went quiet.
“Listen up everyone!” said Brom “we are a team and a fething good team at that. We have built up the trust and respect of each and every member of the platoon and we have done that by ensuring high standards and a family environment. The only difference you will find when we are in the zone, is that someone will be trying to hurt us and our family and we can’t let that happen if we can possibly do so. Remember your training. Remember your team. Remember the standards that we have set and maintained and we will have the best chance of returning to our families” said Brom “above all… remember we are Grymn and that we have a proud and martial tradition that predates us to the Father himself. The Father will be watching and he will be taking notes. He will expect your best and I will expect your best…and your best is the best there is.” Brom looked around and in every face he saw reflection and pride. He was satisfied that they were all ready for the job ahead and said “check your weapon, have a magazine ready to fit when we are ordered to leave the shuttle and stay frosty!” The sound of SMGs being checked filled the hold and Brom smiled “keep them busy and they won’t worry” he thought.

So this was it; a mortar position at the front with infantry support and some artillery to back them up. They were not far from a heavily forested tree-line and there was fierce fighting in the depths of the jungle beyond. The sounds of small arms, heavy calibre support weapons and the screams of troops could be clearly heard and it was obvious that the fighting was getting closer.
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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #6 on: March 01, 2013, 11:09:58 AM »
Mortar 6

It wasn’t long before the fighting breached the tree line and Brom was sad to see that the swarms of Bohkin were forcing the Grymn infantry back.
“PLATOON!” shouted Brom “PREPARE!”
As one the Mortar sections took up their firing positions and moved the rounds to make them easier to grab for use.
“Listen in! Before we launch, set your ranges, and only target areas where there are no friendlies” shouted Brom “set range!”
Brom watched as the infantry near the tree-line began to retreat in an ordered pattern, towards their position.
“READY!” shouted Brom and he could hear the safety systems on each of the mortars being disengaged “PLATOON! At your targets: RAPID FIRE!” Each mortar fired and continued to do so with a regular ‘thud’, ‘thud’ as the launch charges detonated. Brom watched the tree line with his bionic eye and could easily see the impacts amongst the enemy. The supporting infantry were firing their heavy machine guns but were only able to fire at certain targets because of the retreating Grymn being in the way. The mortars had no such worries as the rain of rounds landed beyond the Grymn and in the midst of the enemy Bohkin.
“Hello Mike Papa one, this is Zero, message over” said the comms.
“Hello Zero, this is Mike Papa one. Send over” replied Brom.
“Mike Papa one, hold position and cover the retreat at all costs. Over” said the comms.
“This is Mike Papa one, Roger. Out” replied Brom and he knew exactly what he was being told to do. He heard a similar message go to the infantry support that was with them but the artillery was ordered to retreat.
“Platoon, we have been ordered to cover the retreat” said Brom and he stood bolt upright as he spoke. He looked at everyone’s face, in turn and he could see the look of confusion there. “We must make every round count and we must take as many of the fething scum with us, should the Father choose it.”
Suddenly Brom dropped to the ground as a stray round hit him in the head. Ham quickly rushed to his aide but was brushed away as Brom got back to his feet. There was a vivid, metal scratch in the flesh coloured plate of his bionic implant but everything else seemed fine. Brom smiled and said “the Father is truly with us today.” All around Brom, the confusion disappeared from everyone’s face and the stoic nature of the Grymn race kicked in. Ham immediately issued orders while Brom regained his composure and every single member of the platoon carried out their duties with dedication and precision. The rhythmic thuds of the mortar rounds continued as the retreating infantry broke through their lines and continued to double towards the rendezvous point. The artillery had packed up and was joining the retreat. The heavy machine guns of the support infantry were firing constantly now, at everything in front of them; as were the grenade launchers and pulse-guns.

The sea of Bohkin continued to emerge from the jungle and soon the supply of mortar rounds dried up and the heavy machine guns went silent.

The last comms message from Mike Papa one was “Hello Zero, this is Mike Papa one. Fixing bayonets. The Father is with us. OUT!”

The artificer carefully hand-painted the last name on the wall of heroes. He stood back and checked his work. At the top was the Platoon number and directly below that, painted in gold letters was ‘Sgt Brom ‘Bomber’ Horson’ and a further 26 names. The artificer stood upright, adjusted his dress and saluted the names before moving on to the next platoon; an infantry support platoon.

Veteran Sgt Ham ‘the Hawk’ Gimlisson stood in front of the newly arrived troopers. He looked from face to face and could tell that he was in for an interesting time. Everyone of them, had failed their infantry upgrade and some were reported as being ‘difficult’. He could instantly tell which ones were going to cause the worst problems and made a mental note.

“Welcome to the the support battalions” said Ham “My name is sergeant until I tell you otherwise. Before we get properly introduced, I’d like to tell you the story of how I lost my left arm, shoulder and right leg…”
The light at the end of the tunnel is just someone with a torch, locking the gate.

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Offline Brandlin

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #7 on: March 01, 2013, 12:59:25 PM »
Awwwww  :blub:
"So far in begging stakes Brandlin is waaay ahead with his grav bike"  -  Sally 8/10/08

Offline Penfold

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #8 on: March 01, 2013, 01:52:17 PM »
 :alcohol: to the fallen

 :applause:
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Offline Inso

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Re: Life in the support battalions
« Reply #9 on: March 01, 2013, 02:57:13 PM »
:mrgreen:
The light at the end of the tunnel is just someone with a torch, locking the gate.

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