The Western Front (IC/Character/Open!)

[Marsisian]

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Northern France
Near Belgium
December 20, 1915

Colonel Mitchell was finishing the troop reports for High Command. The regiment didn't even engage in combat since the war started and was mainly facing off against their German counterparts somewhere near Belgium. The trenches were filthy and the arrival of snow, and with it, the extreme winter, made life even tougher in the already horrible conditions they had to live in. Blizzards were common which made it hard for snipers to see what the Germans were doing. A sergeant came into Mitchell's room far behind the frontline trenches about half a mile up.

The sergeant then spoke. "Sir? I'm Sergeant Major Stevens. The recent weather that's been acting up makes the conditions perfect for a mission to set up some more fortifications and sneak in more machine guns and artillery. They won't be able to fire on us with their long-range artillery, the conditions prevent them from doing so." "Do it, corporal. Anything that'll make us win and avoid as many casualties to our men as possible." "Excellent, sir. I'll get some eighteen-pounders here along with a couple of Vickers. A group of men under Corporal Evans will head over as soon as we can get them ready." "No, I will come as well, Sergeant. I would personally like to participate in the construction."

The Sergeant's face was in bewilderment when he said he wanted to come too. "Well, I suppose, Colonel Mitchell. Come if you'd like."

[The Imperium Collectives]

Champagne
2 November 1915

Gerhardt squinted across the battlefield. Bodies everywhere. The Second Battle of Champagne, a costly victory, yet tens of thousands of Germans had perished. Gerhardt had been part of a furious counterattack during late September, taking back the French territory. The enemy halted their advance, and the remaining week turned calm in Gerhardt's position as the battle played out to the west.

In Artois, the Germans were gaining ground as well. The emergence of the November month proved promising as the Germans dealt devastating victories over the defending French side. However, the still young man had never expected to find war so bleak. Hours turned to days, which transformed to weeks in the trench lines. Artillery rained down endlessly, and the sound of gunfire and explosions had rendered his hearing damaged.

Gerhardt collapsed into his trench, sliding himself to a seating position against the dug earth. It was damp, dirty water leaking out and forming puddles. Winter was emerging, and the days grew colder. Gerhardt lit himself a cigarette, staring blankly at the darkening skies. He couldn't help but think of Christmas in Vienna, the faint memories of when his family still had money and could afford delicacies like strudel. Christmas in the Black Forest, days of huddling by the fire as his father told stories and his mother roasted wild game. Christmas in the shop in Berlin, as the paper company scrambled to fill in the holiday seasonal news, his boss treated him to beer and potatoes. And now, Christmas was fast approaching in France. The locals were friendly enough to Gerhardt, who was taught to respect all strangers, regardless of nationality. They had fear in their eyes, anger masked by innocence. Yet he smiled at children in the streets and elders watching from the window. Few returned the smiles, yet he would nonetheless be treated to coffee and bread when he visited homes. Once a guard in minor villages, he was in the center of a bloody battle.

As an Austrian who spent most of his life in Germany, Gerhardt felt oddly indifferent about the war. The death of the Archduke was a mild shock to many, yet on that Sunday, the streets of Berlin were still bustling with activity, parties were attended to, and a general sense of calm and security was in the air. None had expected the Germans to enter a war. Even if Gerhardt was an Austrian native, his father tended to avoid political news and talk about older times. His job at the newspaper company brought some more details of the assassination, and though the young man was curious, he thought nothing of it.

And then, one month later, a war had begun. Gerhardt felt a rush of energy and compassion fill him inside, as he recalled his days in the Black Forest. Hunting game and spending hours in the wilderness. Friendly German neighbors who frequently drank with his aging father. When he announced he was to quit the company and enlist to the army, his boss clapped Gerhardt on the back and supported him. Now the days were a dullish nightmare, with no adrenaline coming to him.

News was that he would relocate to the east, to a strategic hold named Verdun. For now, the French territory remained under German hands, yet a feeling of questionable uneasiness boiled inside of him.

[Marsisian]

German trenches
Northeast France


On the German side of the trenches, nothing, really, was happening. The war had bogged down into a standstill and few major offensives were planned. The men were happy but their superiors weren't and wanted an advantage over the enemy to win the war. One of the more unusual ideas of gaining an advantage was one of the most explored: armored vehicles that could steamroll through infantry and be invulnerable to machine guns and artillery, the chief cause of infantry casualties at this point in the war.

A German officer who looked important wandered through the German trenches hoping to find some soldier to speak with. He was a Major General by the name of Karl Müller. Finally, while walking around aimlessly for 10 minutes in the expansive trench systems, he found what appeared to be a young corporal fiddling with his gun on an empty crate. "Soldier, what is your name? I am an officer who has come to visit these trenches and I have something important to ask you."

[Australian Antarctica]

North-Western France, Near Belgium
December 19th, 1915
Guy Welland or "Buck" as his men called him, sat on top of an ammo crate, writing a letter to his sweetheart back in England. He stroked his mustache, trying to come up with the right words. He had not seen her for almost a year, yet they wrote each other constantly. They had met while Guy was still in training. One night he and his buddies went to a local pub. It just so happened that this pub was owned by an old Royal Army Colonel, with he and his daughter being the only workers. The Colonel, who went by the name James, gave the men their drinks on the house. Guy was the only one who didn't have too much. Even the Colonel got a bit tipsy. When the night was through, he had to drag each one of his friends back one at a time. Until he got to the 3rd of his 6 friends. That time, the daughter, Margaret, who had been eyeing him all night, helped him. That cut the remaining time in half. He knew the second they first met that she was the one. From that moment on, he would spend all of his leave at that pub. When his training was over, he was shipped off to France. Only a week after arriving, he got his first letter from her. From then on, they constantly wrote.

Just as he was signing his name at the bottom, a young private ran up to him "Sir, Jamison's been hit. A Kraut sniper got him, probably going to loose an arm" Buck was stunned, Jamison was a good soldier, the only friend he had here, they had gone through basic together. "Get him to the field hospital. Now!" The sergeant barked, this was the third man in 6 days. Those Jerrys were getting too good.

[Independent States of Tula]

Event
Verviers, Belgium


On the German side of the trenches, nothing, really, was happening. The war had bogged down into a standstill and few major offensives were planned. The men were happy but their superiors weren't and wanted an advantage over the enemy to win the war. One of the more unusual ideas of gaining an advantage was one of the most explored: armored vehicles that could steamroll through infantry and be invulnerable to machine guns and artillery, the chief cause of infantry casualties at this point in the war.

A German officer who looked important wandered through the German trenches hoping to find some soldier to speak with. He was a Major General by the name of Karl Müller. Finally, while walking around aimlessly for 10 minutes in the expansive trench systems, he found what appeared to be a young corporal fiddling with his gun on an empty crate. "Soldier, what is your name? I am an officer who has come to visit these trenches and I have something important to ask you."

Gefreiter Heinrich Gunther was fiddling with the scope of his Gewehr 98 rifle, trying to keep it centered where he liked it, earlier he had shot at a Brit but missed his chest and hit him in the arm instead so he needed to fix his scope to stay accurate. However Heinrich's mind was far from this task, instead it was back home, back in the occupied territories of Poland with his young, sweet, Rozalia. He thought of her soft, full lips, her beautiful brown eyes that stole his heart, her warm smile that broke his frowns, her light kisses that sent him to another world where the two of them could be alone forever. Heinrich was so far away in his thoughts that he didn't realize the high ranking officer in front of him until he spoke and asked his name. Looking up at the unexpected interruption Heinrich had expected a random soldier seeing if he had any extra fags or food rations...instead he saw a Commissioned Officer in the Imperial German Army.

Springing up and standing at attention Heinrich saluted the man and replied "Gefreiter Heinrich Gunther, Sir! At your service, Sir."

However despite his shock at the unexpected visitor Heinrich's sixth sense of danger came back to him and he noticed that this particular part of the trench was lower, which meant that there was the possibility that their heads were poking out over the top just enough just to be seen...which meant British snipers could see the officer being saluted if their heads did indeed pop up a little.

Breaking the salute Heinrich ducked down a little and said "Sir, you may wish to keep your head down, the snipers might be able to see us...and take it from a fellow sniper they prefer officers."

[Marsisian]

The general immediately put his head down, nodding at the soldier as thanks. "Thank you, Gefreiter. I've been sent here by the General Staff to find some actual soldiers for our war car testing outside Strasburg. I would like you and some others to come with me to Strasburg for a short while to see what you think about our latest prototype 'armored car', as they call it." General Muller looked the soldier and examined him for a minute before continuing on speaking.

[Independent States of Tula]

"Thank you, Gefreiter. I've been sent here by the General Staff to find some actual soldiers for our war car testing outside Strasburg. I would like you and some others to come with me to Strasburg for a short while to see what you think about our latest prototype 'armored car', as they call it." The officer announced.

Heinrich was stunned, it was an offer of a lifetime, Strasburg was far from the war and Poland not far from it as well. It was very possible that Heinrich and his beloved Rozalia could meet while Heinrich helped with the testing. But at the same time Heinrich's conscience bothered him as he thought of all the other men who's families would be relieved to know they were away from harm. In the end it was a question of whether or not Heinrich wanted to be the man who got away or if it was another who would be the lucky bastard.

The decision was hard but Heinrich had to make it and so he answered "Sir, I'm a sniper, if you're testing to make it sniper proof then I'm your man...otherwise my place is here Sir. I have a young wife, we haven't yet had children, there are many men in these trenches who have many children who rely on them...perhaps they deserve the reprieve more than I Sir? I mean no disrespect, or willingness to disobey orders, it's just that my comrades need me...who else is going to shoot British officers?"

[Marsisian]

"Thank you, Gefreiter. I've been sent here by the General Staff to find some actual soldiers for our war car testing outside Strasburg. I would like you and some others to come with me to Strasburg for a short while to see what you think about our latest prototype 'armored car', as they call it." The officer announced.

Heinrich was stunned, it was an offer of a lifetime, Strasburg was far from the war and Poland not far from it as well. It was very possible that Heinrich and his beloved Rozalia could meet while Heinrich helped with the testing. But at the same time Heinrich's conscience bothered him as he thought of all the other men who's families would be relieved to know they were away from harm. In the end it was a question of whether or not Heinrich wanted to be the man who got away or if it was another who would be the lucky bastard.

The decision was hard but Heinrich had to make it and so he answered "Sir, I'm a sniper, if you're testing to make it sniper proof then I'm your man...otherwise my place is here Sir. I have a young wife, we haven't yet had children, there are many men in these trenches who have many children who rely on them...perhaps they deserve the reprieve more than I Sir? I mean no disrespect, or willingness to disobey orders, it's just that my comrades need me...who else is going to shoot British officers?"

The officer seemed surprised at the Gefreiter's decision but responded positively anyway. "Well, we will need your certain expertise in rifle rounds to see if our armored car is fully protected against infantry small-arms. Don't worry, the trip will be short. You'll be back in two days via train."

[Vacif]

Northern France
Near Belgium
December 20, 1915

Curtis opened his eyes to another gloomy day in the trenches, it was early morning and already was their fighting and wounded. Clouds formed in the distance, signaling for another rain, by the looks of it, if it doesn't build up they were in for a light drizzle, if not, a heavy rain. It would hit later today, maybe late noon or mid-evening near sunset. He stifled a yawn and stretched his arms, he didn't bother looking into the mirror. His short black hair was somewhat greasy and messy, tangled slightly and he didn't need to shave quite yet. He walked out of the dugout that was his home for the past few and walked around the trench. Several medics ran by him, he quickly jogged beside them and asked "Who's been hit?" he was genuinely concerned for the well being of who ever had been shot but also morbidly curious.

"Private Jamison was shot in the arm earlier this morning, we've only just gotten word, if he's lucky he'll only lose his arm." He was going to ask if he could do anything to help, but there really wasn't. He slowed down the a crawl as the medic ran to the Dispensary, he said a quick and quiet prayer for the man. 'No atheists in the trenches, right?' the chances of him being shot by just anyone across no mans land except by a sniper was highly unlikely. That being thought, he went back inside his dirt-hole of a barracks and retrieved his gear. Retrieving his rifle and cleaning kit, he went to the support trench to grab some rounds and clean his rifle. He was very good at maintaining his rifle, even with all the dirt in the trench. He examined the weapon. He'd created a special sheath for it if you could call it that to keep it dry and clean from he naturally dirty trench, it worked fairly well but every so often dirt or grime would get in the bag. After polishing off his scope and grabbing a few .303 rounds he marched off to the forward sap to see what was going on, rifle in hand. A small section of soldiers were already there, some had periscopes while others had maps and charts, they murmured quietly to each other and paid little attention to the private. Tapping one of the soldiers with the periscopes on the shoulder he asked politely if he could use it, the soldier, seeing he was a sniper obliged quickly. He'd caught a glimpse of some movement, 2 heads...a soldier...and an officer. Sadly before he could even tell anyone, they ducked down quickly.

He hadn't much anything better to do, so he helped the section with their task, aiding him with his trained eyes, searching for discrpensies or movement and what not. He told them about the officer in the kraut line, but it was no surprise to them.

[Independent States of Tula]

"Well, we will need your certain expertise in rifle rounds to see if our armored car is fully protected against infantry small-arms. Don't worry, the trip will be short. You'll be back in two days via train." The officer replied, seemingly surprised by the reply.

With that Heinrich nodded and stated "Very well. You've got your volunteer, Sir."

[Marsisian]

"Good," the officer said. "Gather what you think you need and head over to the train station about a mile east of this location. The train will be coming at about 11:30, so get there quick, all right? Once you're at Strasburg, walk to the testing grounds south of the city and tell them you are on my orders to observe the test and provide your input on the machine, making suggestions to how it could be better. Then you will ride the war car from the city over here to provide a field demonstration of its performance. That is it."

[Kingdom High]

Northern France
Near Belgium, 10 Miles Behind the Front
December 20, 1915

Another windswept day with sheets of snow pelting the land like artillery. Dennis and his fellow medics huddled under a messily constructed hovel just outside one of the closest casualty clearing stations (CSS) to the front-lines. The only salvation to the liquid gloom falling outside came in the form of a pipe and tobacco. Disheveled and tired, Dennis was nonetheless appreciative of the simple joys of life.

"Anyone got a light? I'm out of matches." Dennis asked, muffled by the rain outside.

"A light? I'm afraid I forgot to grab some matches as well. I was just about to have a smoke as well. Percy, for the love of god tell me you didn't make the same mistake?" barked Dennis' superior, Sergeant Timothy Corpanthy. A stern NCO, but nonetheless an affable fellow, it wasn't hard to take a liking to him. Percy, half-asleep, grunted apathetically. "Wake up Percy, what if the Krauts were to siege here right now? I haven't heard from the front in at least 6 hours, things are bound to change!" Timothy said. Percy, a normally heavy-sleeper, struggled to respond to Timothy's beckoning.

"Maybe a little physical encouragement will rouse him, sir?" Dennis chuckled. He wasn't serious at course, he wasn't too addicted to smoking, he could wait. Or so he tells himself.

"Dennis that's possibly the most intelligent thing I've heard out of both you two today. Sorry Percy, but your beauty sleep has to wait." Timothy joked. Poor, innocent Percy's rest on the medical crates was interrupted by a powerful backhand delivered by Timothy. A red hand mark immediately materialized onto his face and the sound that resulted even out-competed that of the deluge outside. Eyes jolting open, body filled with adrenalin, Percy instinctively grabbed his knife and shouted in terror. Once he realized the ridiculous situation, the resulting silence between the trio transformed into laughter.

"Ahaha, sorry Percy but your nap must wait. There are more important matters, namely, Dennis and I need a light." Timothy chuckled, wiping a tear out of his eye. Percy smirked and raised an eyebrow, he didn't appreciate the sudden gesture but nonetheless found the humour in it.

"Matches? Those bloody things? I gave the rest of mine to Frederick back the hospital because I assumed you blokes had them!" Percy said with disappointment. Dennis chuckled under his breath while Timothy looked like he was about to strangle Percy. It was well known by Dennis' fellow medics that Timothy was incredibly addicted to cigars. He smoked one per hour, or so the rumour went. Going without one for as long as it would take to get new matches, which Dennis estimated to be at least another day was like an eternity in hell for Timothy. Dennis was sure not to further piss off his superior any further, Percy on the other hand was as naive as they got.

Timothy let out a long exasperated sigh and buried his face in his hands as he processed how much time he'd have to wait to have another smoke, even through his thick beard you could tell it hid an angry grimace. "Percy. If you were a captured Jerry I'd find great pleasure in hurting you. The only thing that saves your throat from strangulation is the fact that I don't want to be executed myself. Now if remembering these short instructions isn't too much trouble to you, telegraph the front and ask them if there have been any developments." Timothy said passive-aggressively. Percy opened his mouth to say something but Timothy cut him off, "Do not speak, do not hesitate. Just go."

Dennis was smart enough to know that he shouldn't complain about the lack of matches too, so he remained silent and waited for Percy to return.

[Australian Antarctica]

Northern France
Near Belgium
December 20, 1915
Buck had gotten no sleep the night before. With the rain that had rolled in at around midnight, turning the trenches into a muddy pit where men looked no longer like men. They looked as if they had been transformed into a monster. That thought made him chuckle, the Germans were taking over Europe, and he was the one who looked like a monster! Jamison was due to arrive at the hospital sometime today, thankfully his arm wasn't infected...yet. Out here that could change in a moment. Standing up off the crate he had been sitting on, he headed for the Colonel's bunker. A German cannon had been hitting their part of the trenches for over a week now. Not enough to do much damage, but still enough to lower morale. Being a demolitons man, he wanted to do something. He already knew where it was, he had found it looking through some binoculars a few days earlier. Each day the weather was clear he would make sure it hadn't moved. Thankfully, it wasn't. Probably half frozen in the ground by now. Buck's plan was to make a large arc around the enemy lines, about 10 miles, with only a small group of men, find a good place to sneak across the enemy lines, and blow the thing sky-high. He knocked on the door the Colonel's room.

[Zelent]

North Eastern France
Jonas had just arrived at the front line a day ago and had not seen any action really. He spent alot of his time running around the trenches while trying to keep his boots relativley dry, going several kilometers north and several kilometers south, were he was always told to scram off as he would regularly end up in the sector of another units area far out side of were 38th Regiment soldiers should be. Having already been forced to go back to his area under threat of desertion, he was stuck there with nothing to do other then looking out at No Mans Land. On one occasion he spotted a lone body in the middle of the field, borrowing another recruits binoculars, he verified the body as a British casualty, and of most interest he saw a British grenade still strapped to his overalls. It was a big enough curiosity to him that he decided that come nightfall, he would slip over the trenches and crawl through No Mans Land to get it. He knew no better and decided he would against all common sense. In the meanwhile, he had few other things to do other then conversate with his friends from basic training or familiarize himself with the other folks in the trench. However, seeing how the other soldiers in the trench had elaborate weaponry with nails and spikes that would not fair difficultly in bludgeoning a Brit to death, he reasoned he ouught to improve his. Acquiring six nails that looked unused he hammered them randomly through the top of the club. He looked at his new weapon and was content with himself. He found a relativley dry place to sit and sat, content with himself and waiting for any orders.

[Kingdom High]

Northern France
Near Belgium, 10 Miles Behind the Front
December 20, 1915

As if God himself felt pity onto those two poor addicts, struggling to resist yet another hour without a light, the snow loosened up and slowed to a crawl. Dennis and Timothy spoke little to each-other while Percy was presumably telegraphing the front-lines. It was more or less blank stares and the occasional small talk. Timothy finally burst out in sudden rage.

"Dennis! Go find that blasted fellow! He's been in there for ages!" Dennis resisted every impulse to correct his NCO that Percy had in fact only been gone for about forty minutes. He picked himself up off the matted Earth and lightly brushed off the dirt and debris he'd grown accustomed with.

"I will return with due haste." Dennis said. Timothy scoffed and waved him off. "Irritable and sarcastic." Dennis thought, "and they say the war is a pain." The CCS was but just a short walk away from the house the medical team was resting in, but Dennis refused to submit his clean, dry clothing to the ever-encompassing rain. He jogged, utilizing the occasional tree as a salvation from the snowfall. The path was muddy, so despite his best efforts his pants were coated in a rather lowly shade of brown and white. "Blast it." Dennis muttered. Overheard, the scattering wind was briefly over-shadowed by two reconnaissance planes, their propellers lightly buzzing like honeybees. The Kraut aircraft were hawks, preying on the defenseless hummingbirds that were allied aircraft, although early in the war a-many a stories were told of how rival pilots exchanged nothing worse than waves, it quickly became another front for both sides to flex their military muscle. Dennis wished the two pilots the best of luck braving the storm for precious intel in such a stalemate as this, and silently prayed for their return.

Dennis spotted the familiar two-story stone building in the distance. Formerly an apartment building, its construction and proximity to the front-lines quickly made it a local medical hot-spot, and a popular destination for Dennis and his squad. The hovel they previously were in was the casualty clearing station's unofficial 'warehouse' of sorts, where excess supplies would be placed. Dennis approached the front door and shook the bell that clever engineers installed because the nurses could not hear knocks over the moaning of the wounded. A tragic backstory for its installation, but both field medics and nurses appreciated the bell. A 'piercing, yet powerful sound,' claimed one nurse.

Within moments the door was answered by a rather beautiful nurse. Blonde hair that flowed like a river, blue eyes and an adorable smile, and a familiar face to Dennis. Even garbed in modest nurse clothing she was a sight to behold to Dennis' weary eyes. His mouth curled into a smile immediately upon seeing her.

"Mon amour!" She cried, embracing Dennis.

"Bonjour Joanna, vous etes tres belle, comme d'habitude." Dennis remarked. It is said that you know who is truly there for you in times of duress, the statement could not be more true for Dennis and Joanna. "Ou est Percy?" Joanna looked blankly for a moment, then her face lit up with recognition.

"Il flirte avec les infirmieres." She chuckled, gesturing behind her. "Percy, you'll be the death of me. And the wounded if you don't stop distracting the nurses."

"Je vais revenir bientot, il y a urgence mon amour." Dennis said, planting a small kiss on his lover's cheek. He marched up to his subordinate and shook his head. "Percy, your French is terrible." Percy spun around in surprise, then clutched his chest.

"Dennis, you and Timothy need to stop giving me heart-attacks, what will I tell my father when I die from that?" he whispered. "And she seemed alright with it."

Dennis scoffed, "She was trying to ease you off so she could attend to the wounded you bloody idiot! Did you at least perform the task at hand?" Percy nodded. "Well? What did they say?"

"There hasn't been significant engagement thus far but there are some minor injuries that could use our services. A couple of leg and arm wounds from the occasional rifle exchange between trenches but no pushes by us or the Krauts has been made yet. You don't suppose we should do something?"

"Well of course we have to do something. We don't have medical training for nothing, I will prep the equipment and you will drive and pick up Timothy. We shall pay the front a bit of a well-deserved visit, no?"

[Marsisian]

Northern France
1915


As the Colonel was preparing to exit for a reconnaissance mission with Sergeant Stevens, he heard a knock on his door. Irritated, he angrily opened the door to find an NCO standing outside it. "What is it?! I've got things to do, soldier, and I can't very well do them with distractions in addition to these frigid temperatures, rain, and snow!"

[The Imperium Collectives]

December 2nd, 1915
Champagne

The failure of the French offensive had calmed the front down slightly. Gerhardt watched the snow covered field of no man's land, where battles had been fought to a stalemate. In his guard position, days turned tedious and uneventful. It was too far for French and English artillery to hit them, yet close enough that wounded were seen daily on large caravans and lines. It was a somber scene, one that was quiet and mysteriously calm.

The sound of crunching snow caused Gerhardt to look up. An officer was rounding up sleeping and resting soldiers. "Get up, we're moving soldat." Gerhardt gripped his rifle. "Where are we heading?" "Reinforcing the Belgian front. Seems the British dogs are quite stubborn." The rumors of turning east had been false. Now, Gerhardt was going to see action once again. He assembled with the rest of the group. A long march north began, shielded by the western trenches as the reinforcements slowly trudged to Belgium. Distant artillery was heard, which grew nearer and nearer the more north they went. French towns and villages seemed empty, which mirrored the colorless trees and countrysides. A gray and white blanket covered the world in a solemn canvas, and the atmosphere fell to a depressing and silent haze.

Gerhardt scratched his hair. Mites had covered his clothes, and the men hadn't showered in weeks. When the group rested for an hour, the captain brought them a jug of ale, which they each took a swig of. As the moral grew slightly, the trip progressed faster. Some men even began humming a tune, while an occasional laugh was heard. "Perhaps the English have already frozen!" one private joked. "Enough, enough!" an officer ordered, yet it was evident he was amused. Gerhardt smiled at his comrades, but inside, he grew anxious of the coming storm.

[Australian Antarctica]

Northern France
1915


As the Colonel was preparing to exit for a reconnaissance mission with Sergeant Stevens, he heard a knock on his door. Irritated, he angrily opened the door to find an NCO standing outside it. "What is it?! I've got things to do, soldier, and I can't very well do them with distractions in addition to these frigid temperatures, rain, and snow!"

Buck was unfazed by the Colonel's outburst "Sergeant Welland Sir! You know that damn Jerry cannon that's been harassing us for over a week now? I want to take it out. Just need your permission to get a group together to do it"

[Marsisian]

Northern France
1915


As the Colonel was preparing to exit for a reconnaissance mission with Sergeant Stevens, he heard a knock on his door. Irritated, he angrily opened the door to find an NCO standing outside it. "What is it?! I've got things to do, soldier, and I can't very well do them with distractions in addition to these frigid temperatures, rain, and snow!"

Buck was unfazed by the Colonel's outburst "Sergeant Welland Sir! You know that damn Jerry cannon that's been harassing us for over a week now? I want to take it out. Just need your permission to get a group together to do it"

"The cannon hasn't even killed anybody yet, Sergeant Welland. What I need you to do is head with Corporal Evans and lay some mines down on our side of No Man's Land. The blizzard is so bad, nobody can even see in front of them so you don't have to worry about them shooting you. After, if you have time, then take out the cannon if you wish."

[Australian Antarctica]

Buck was unfazed by the Colonel's outburst "Sergeant Welland Sir! You know that damn Jerry cannon that's been harassing us for over a week now? I want to take it out. Just need your permission to get a group together to do it"

"The cannon hasn't even killed anybody yet, Sergeant Welland. What I need you to do is head with Corporal Evans and lay some mines down on our side of No Man's Land. The blizzard is so bad, nobody can even see in front of them so you don't have to worry about them shooting you. After, if you have time, then take out the cannon if you wish."

"Yet sir, that's my point. It's bound to get somebody killed soon, and we're short on men as it is. I can find a man to help the corporal, but I need to take that cannon out now. If you are ordering me to lay the mines though, sir, I will do it" Colonels, they know nothing!

[Marsisian]

"The cannon hasn't even killed anybody yet, Sergeant Welland. What I need you to do is head with Corporal Evans and lay some mines down on our side of No Man's Land. The blizzard is so bad, nobody can even see in front of them so you don't have to worry about them shooting you. After, if you have time, then take out the cannon if you wish."

"Yet sir, that's my point. It's bound to get somebody killed soon, and we're short on men as it is. I can find a man to help the corporal, but I need to take that cannon out now. If you are ordering me to lay the mines though, sir, I will do it" Colonels, they know nothing!

"Lay the mines, Sergeant. Then come back here. I highly doubt they'll continue firing the cannon if it's pitch-white, they won't hit anything. Be logical." The colonel was already beginning to dislike this certain NCO.

[Australian Antarctica]

"Yet sir, that's my point. It's bound to get somebody killed soon, and we're short on men as it is. I can find a man to help the corporal, but I need to take that cannon out now. If you are ordering me to lay the mines though, sir, I will do it" Colonels, they know nothing!

"Lay the mines, Sergeant. Then come back here. I highly doubt they'll continue firing the cannon if it's pitch-white, they won't hit anything. Be logical." The colonel was already beginning to dislike this certain NCO.

"Yes. Sir" The Sergeant replied, hardly hiding the contempt in his voice. The Colonel was only a year older than him, and still was able to order him around? It was madness! "Where am I to find Corporal Evans anyway?"

[Marsisian]

"Lay the mines, Sergeant. Then come back here. I highly doubt they'll continue firing the cannon if it's pitch-white, they won't hit anything. Be logical." The colonel was already beginning to dislike this certain NCO.

"Yes. Sir" The Sergeant replied, hardly hiding the contempt in his voice. The Colonel was only a year older than him, and still was able to order him around? It was madness! "Where am I to find Corporal Evans anyway?"

"The Corporal is already waiting near the Lewis pieces along with Sergeant Kelso. Good luck to all of you."

[Australian Antarctica]

"Yes. Sir" The Sergeant replied, hardly hiding the contempt in his voice. The Colonel was only a year older than him, and still was able to order him around? It was madness! "Where am I to find Corporal Evans anyway?"

"The Corporal is already waiting near the Lewis pieces along with Sergeant Kelso. Good luck to all of you."

"Thank you sir" Buck responded, his voice still laced with contempt for the young Colonel. Already he hated him. Nothing he could do now though, he was a good soldier. And a good soldier follows orders. He walked off to find the other two men. Apparently, and thankfully, Buck was not the only one who hated him. They exchanged some colorful words about the colonel during their work "Bastard" "Moron" one that got a few laughs was said by the corporal "Colonel Bitchel" after that though, they fell into a pattern. Kelso used the pickaxe to begin the hole, Evans used the shovel afterwards, and Buck laid the mine. They continued that work for hours, until the sun fell below the horizon, covering the entire land in darkness. The sky was contrasted beautifully with the snow covered ground, one could almost imagine that there wasn't a war going on. Almost. Then you notice the barbed wire, the machine guns, and the lumps in the snow, hiding the day's casualties. As they finished the last mine, Buck spoke up "You two want to help me destroy that blasted cannon that's been hitting us everyday? Not like you will get much sleep tonight anyway. Safest time too, at night with the snow covering us" they looked hesitant, but surprisingly agreed. Buck ordered Evans to find the Colonel and let him know they were heading out, while Buck and Kelso gathered their supplies: 3 gaskmaks, 12 sticks of TNT, a Double Barreled shotgun, a compass, a map, a captured German helmet in case it would be needed, all in addition to their normal supplies of Grenades and Rifles.

[Zelent]

December 20th,North Eastern France
The sun had nearly set on the landscape, it was practically as dark as could be due to the fog so Jonas decided he would leave the trenches on his little escapade. He carried with him nothing other then his Identification and a bayonet. The plan was simple, he would crawl from artillery crater to artillery crater, dipping in and out with simple rolls till he got to the blooded remains of the British soldier. He would procure whatever he wanted from the lone corpse, ciggarettes,his weaponry,his grenades, which he was most interested in and then slip back to the trench line.

He waited a few minutes to prepare himself mentally, putting down all his unneded gear on a crate with note on top of it
Will be right back it promised. He was now at this point considered himself ready. Pulling himself over the trench and then rolling off the short emrampment and onto the ground. The first crater was only about two meters away, from a British mortar that had only left a mark about knee deep if he were to stand up. He reached out his arms and pulled himself forward, rolling down and making the most subtle of splashes in collected white mush of rain and snow. He repeated this process several times, zigzagging up and down the field at a slow crawl. About 20 minutes into his adventure he realized coming across a single sign post facing the German line labled MINEN that he was about to crawl into a minefield. Tracing back spending at least half an hour circumnavigating to the body he was finally just five+ meters out from the body. He got up on all fours before diving back down. He lay on top of the body, watching the British trenches about halfway across the field for any responding movement that he could see through the pitch darkness and dense fog. Nothing he thought, he got to work pulling the body into the deepest ditch he could find. Searching through each pocket. He found 3 cigarettes, some sort of grenade called a Mills Bomb, his rifle and a few bullets and a handful remaining of a loaf of bread which he consumed quickly, finding it stale but figuring this is what he would have to get used to on the front line. He thought he heard movement coming from the Brits. Looking back, he responded frightfully, pulling up the British rifle with which he was untrained he quickly tried to adjust with common nonsensical actions, firing off a bullet quickly at the British lines, he took off running back to the German trenches, taking the exact same path he took getting there as to avoid landmines.