Realistic or Modern ~ The Devil's Marauders ~

[The Lonely Astronaut]

WARNING & DISCLAIMER

WARNING: This roleplay will contain strong language, violence, blood/gore, potential minor sexual content, alcohol/drugs and other adult themes. All of this will be within the rules of Roleplaynation.
If you are easily offended by any of the above, please leave right now.
I understand that World War ll might be a sensitive subject to some people. Not only the war per se, but the timeframe and politics in general.
In this roleplay we will face horrible things such as nazism, racism and war. If you feel like you can't handle that, do not join or stalk this roleplay.

DISCLAIMER: First off, huge shoutout to Hall Kervean for helping me create this roleplay! Together we created a plot that I believe has some interesting aspects. It would not have been possible without your help, thank you once again!
I do not claim to be an expert on the Second World War in any way, it's just an interest of mine. There may very well be some things that are not correct in this roleplay, but I'm sure it won't be a deal-breaker.
Also, this code/design was created by Fable .

PLOT & STORY

“I was told to spend ten years in prison, or join the military. Could you imagine the U.S Military being so short on men that they gave us criminals a choice in the court? To me, that seemed like one of those “get out of jail” cards that you could get in Monopoly. When I took the offer to join the military I thought I got the same options as any other man fighting the war. I could not have been more wrong.
By the end of 1942, we were 20,000 criminals in the Army. We even got our own Division, the 107th Infantry Division, nicknamed “The Devil’s Marauders”. I’m part of Fox Company, 3rd Battalion, 408th Infantry Regiment of the 107th Infantry Division.
It’s been one year since we completed our training, and it was hell. We were not treated equally because of our criminal background. We were shown absolutely no respect and all of the sudden, jail didn’t seem like such a bad place to be.
Today we’re shipping out to England where we’ll prepare for the largest action in the history of warfare, Operation Overlord.”

You’ll be roleplaying as a soldier in the 107th Infantry Division, specifically 1st Squad, 2nd Platoon, Fox Company, 3rd Battalion, 408th Infantry Regiment. You’re a former criminal who chose war over prison, a choice you were given in court.
You might think that people do not care about your background on the battlefield, that we’re all brothers out there, but you couldn't be more wrong. You’re a criminal, the other units wants as little as possible to do with the 107th. You’re the first ones in, and the last ones out. They will not go easy on you.

The roleplay will start on May 30th, 1944, when the 107th arrive in England seven days before their first operation, the invasion of Europe.

RULES & GUIDELINES

RESPECT AND ETIQUETTE: Be courteous to the others participating in the roleplay. If you plan on leaving the roleplay, please let me know beforehand. If possible, you should also write yourself out of it in character.

GODMODDING/POWERPLAYING/METAGAMING: This is regarded as the ultimate low in Roleplaying, as it’s not only unfair but also disrespectful. I’m sure you know what godmodding/metagaming/powerplaying is, if not, I highly suggest you look it up before joining this roleplay. If anyone is caught doing this, I will give that person a warning. If that person continues to break this rule, I will kick him or her out of this roleplay.

BASIC ENGLISH IS YOUR FRIEND: Proper grammar, spelling and punctuation is very important in roleplaying. I’m not asking for A+ English as it’s not even my first language, but basic knowledge of the English language is a requirement.

CONTENT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN LENGTH: I won’t ask for a five page English essay for each post. (No one does that, but you get the point.) I’ll simply say, one to two well written paragraphs is more than enough to satisfy me. With that said, one paragraph per post is a minimum.

BE REASONABLE AND REALISTIC: You do not have unlimited ammo/grenades, do not “Run N’ Gun” and there’s always a bigger gun. Try to be as realistic as possible, I do not want anyone to go all “Rambo” on us. Also, you're not allowed to use drawn/animated/anime pictures in your Character Sheet. This is not a must, but try to use a picture from that era of time.

EVERY ACTION HAS A REACTION: While it’s easy to disregard things in a roleplay-setting, everything you do has consequences or some effect on the world around you. What do you do when you capture a dozen Waffen-SS men who executed 50 innocent men, women and children just moments before you arrive? The bodies are still cooling when the Nazis surrender with a smile… What would you do?

KEEP THE DRAMA INSIDE THE ROLEPLAY: I do not want any drama outside of the roleplay, please. However, feel free to bring it in to the actual roleplay.

You absolutely must follow these rules, and of course the rules of Roleplaynation. Thank you!
PS. When you reserve a spot, tell me in what years this war took place. (Psst, the answer is 1939 - 1945.)

ROLES

SQUAD LEADER: The Lonely Astronaut
Staff Sergeant (Ssg.)
He leads the squad in combat. Under the platoon leader's direction, the Squad Leader arranges for feeding his men, enforces proper observance of rules of personal hygiene and sanitation, requires that weapons and equipment be kept clean and in serviceable condition, and checks and reports on the ammunition supply within the squad.
Weapon: Thompson

RIFLEMAN SCOUT: PenguinFox
Private (Pvt.)
The Rifleman Scouts is in charge of squad security. When advancing in the presence of the enemy, the squad is preceded by its Scouts who seek out the enemy and and prevent surprise. Scouts precede the squad at such distance that it will not be subjected to surprise small-arms fire.
Weapon: M1 Garand

RIFLEMAN SCOUT: Open!
Private (Pvt.)
The Rifleman Scouts is in charge of squad security. When advancing in the presence of the enemy, the squad is preceded by its Scouts who seek out the enemy and and prevent surprise. Scouts precede the squad at such distance that it will not be subjected to surprise small-arms fire.
Weapon: M1 Garand

AUTOMATIC RIFLEMAN: JesterTheSheep
Private (Pvt.)
The Automatic Rifleman is the man with most fire power. His job is to suppress the enemy so the rest of the squad can move forward and possibly flank the enemy position.
Weapon: M1919 Browning

ASSISTING AUTO. RIFLEMAN: Winter_Wolf
Private (Pvt.)
The Assting Auto. Rifleman simply assists the Automatic Rifleman. He helps deploy the machine gun and he calls out enemy position to the man behind the machine gun. He should always be prepared to take over the machine gun in case the Automatic Rifleman gets hit or has to leave his post for whatever reason. Of course he helped with the suppressive fire with his rifle.
Weapon: M1 Carbine

AMMUNITION BEARER: The Lonely Astronaut
Private (Pvt.)
This role might sound a bit boring to some, but the Ammunition Bearer does a lot of other things than carry ammunition. His role is much like the Assisting Auto. Rifleman. He helps deploy the machine and calling out enemies. He should also be prepared to take over the machine gun if something were to happen.
Weapon: M1 Garand

ASSISTANT SQUAD LEADER: Becker
Sergeant (Sgt.)
The Assistant Squad Leader performs duties assigned by the Squad Leader and takes command of the squad in his absence. The Squad Leader may designate him to command a portion of the squad, to act as an observer, or to supervise replenishment of ammunition.
Weapon: Thompson

RIFLEMAN GRENADIER: Commissar Darman
Private (Pvt.)
The Grenadier carried - depending on the mission - a grenade launcher, flamethrower or bazooka. He and the second Grenadier was in charge of taking out tanks and using explosives to the Squads advantage when necessary.
Weapon: M1 Garand

RIFLEMAN GRENADIER: Winter_Wolf
Private (Pvt.)
The Grenadier carried - depending on the mission - a grenade launcher, flamethrower or bazooka. He and the second Grenadier is in charge of taking out tanks and using explosives to the Squads advantage when necessary.
Weapon: M1 Garand

RIFLEMAN: memphis
Private (Pvt.)
The role of the Rifleman is the most basic role in the squad, but they are also the backbone of the squad. The would usually be the ones flanking enemy positions, the most flexible soldiers in the squad.
Weapon: M1 Garand

RIFLEMAN: Best Trekkie.
Private (Pvt.)
The role of the Rifleman is the most basic role in the squad, but they are also the backbone of the squad. The would usually be the ones flanking enemy positions, the most flexible soldiers in the squad.
Weapon: M1 Carbine

RIFLEMAN: Achilles676
Private (Pvt.)
The role of the Rifleman is the most basic role in the squad, but they are also the backbone of the squad. The would usually be the ones flanking enemy positions, the most flexible soldiers in the squad.
Weapon: M1 Carbine

code/design by Fable

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Sergeant Landau

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

John was awakened by the light that snuck through the small opening of the door, it was just enough to wake him up. Except the lit cigarettes, that was the only light in the dark and cold room. Like many others aboard the ship, he had managed to catch some sleep before it was time to step ashore. He sat up on the bedside, rubbing his eyes so he wouldn't fall asleep again. He could hear more and more people getting up as their boots landed on the wet floor beneath their beds. John had only slept for a couple of hours, which was far less than he was used to. However, he was afraid it was something he had to get accustomed to do. Due to the lack of sleep, his head was aching and he couldn't keep himself from nodding off all the time. He had to get out of the dark in order to not fall back asleep. He got up from his bed and left the room with a cigar in his mouth.

Once he got out of the room, he lit his cigar and took a long deep breath. He was already feeling more alert and his headache was easing up.
"There's nothing a little bit of tobacco can't help." He said to himself with a smile on his scruffy face.
John had a hard time to find his way around the ship, but after a few minutes he had made his way to the outside. The wind was blowing in his face and the smell of the ocean lurked it's way up his nose. It was a very relaxing moment for him. He closed his eyes and imagined he was on a cruise ship, with the love of his life, Louise. For a second he could almost feel her hand in his, hear her voice whispering in his ears and smell her. This was the first time in two years he felt like a free man, but it was all interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. It was the Military Police informing everyone that they were to arrive in England in a few minutes. John let out a sigh and tossed what was left of his cigar out in the ocean.
He walked back down to gather all of his equipment. Lucky for him, he had packed all of his stuff beforehand. Once he had picked it all up he decided to look for his squad, unfortunately he didn't even know where to begin.

 

[JesterTheSheep]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0600 hours
Location: The "Troopship" (Ground-Unit transportation)

Private Byers​

No matter what he did, Austin couldn't sleep. The thought of war hung gloomily over his head. At the time, he was convinced that this was the "smart" idea, a young inmate getting his hands dirty for the American dream. It was only after a solid nine months of drills, insults, training and pain did he realize how wrong he was. 'How hard could it be?' those were his words, the words that had shipped him to England.

Deciding it was time to get up anyway, Austin fumbled out of his bunk and walked to the deck, spotting the few men smoking cigarettes in the corner of his eye. That's what he needed right now: a way to make dying hurt a little less. He shook his head slightly to awaken himself, and pulled his last cigarette out of his pocket. One of the men lit it with a match, and he stretched his shoulders out, cig in his mouth.

He thought back to America, to home - to the "old man," as he called. The old man was his drunken step-father that he shot - twice. He didn't regret it: after what he had did to his mother, Austin would have done it again in a heartbeat. Now the old man was where he belonged: a deep, dark corner of hell.

Looking around, Austin spotted a man who seemed to outrank him, who also seemed to be looking for something.
"Bit early for a stroll, eh?" He asked the fellow soldier.​

 

[Becker]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0600 hours
Location: The "Troopship" (Ground-Unit transportation)

Sergeant Barbaro​

​

Luigi was sat on the deck and yawned as he finished peeling the last potato to create a quick breakfast for himself and those that were actually awake at the time. Even as the second in command, he didn't mind that some of the men were still asleep. 'Not that we have anything to do...' He thought as he cut a hefty slice of spam into several square chunks before adding them to a makeshift mixing bowl - A metal bucket that he 'borrowed' from a janitor closet. Reaching into his jacket, Luigi retrieves a small wooden box. He pauses to sniff it; the memories of home wafting through his mind as the fragrant spices and herbs fill his nose with delight. He opens it and admires several tiny corked vials packed with crushed Basil, Sage, Rosemary and dried Garlic. Luigi carefully uncorks two of the vials, difficult to do on a rocking ship and he sprinkles just a touch of garlic and basil into the mixing bowl. He rolls up his sleeves and begins to mix the thinly cut potato, a few diced carrots, the cubed spam and the spices. He pauses, reaching over to a very hot pitcher of water and carefully mixes it all up into a thick, lumpy batter. Having prepared the food, he washes his hands using his canteen and prepares a small portable cooking stove; which he secures to a metal plate and keeps it well away from any wood. Lighting it, he pours a little bit of cooking oil into a pan which he 'borrowed' from the kitchens below deck and begins to deep fry several scoops of the batter into patties.

"Come get your breakfast!.. you all know that the British cannot cook for shit!" Luigi laughs as he scoops out a couple of the deep fried potato, carrot and spam patties and places them onto small napkins to drain away the excess oil.

 

[JesterTheSheep]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0601 hours
Location: The "Troopship"

Private Byers
​

Deciding to ditch his effort to be friendly to the unknown comrade, Austin spat his cigarette into the ocean before going to hunt down the sacred word of breakfast. It was a known fact that the food in the military - and in England, Canada, and possibly even Russia - was utter shit, but it was one of the very few things a soldier could enjoy. Keeping this in mind, Austin wandered around before coming across something that really caught his attention - and his nostrils - potatos.
"Score."
Austin grinned at the giant 'pot' of carrots, potatoes, spam and other oddities, before walking over to get some.
"Morning Sarge." He began. "Still fresh? Am I first again?"

 

[Becker]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0601 hours
Location: The "Troopship" (Ground-Unit transportation)

Sergeant Barbaro​

​

Luigi looks up from focusing on frying the fritters and glances at Austin for a few moments, giving him a brief smile.

"Morning Byers"

He finishes cooking yet another batch and places several fritters onto a nest of tissues to let the oil drain. Luigi then reaches over and holds out a wrapped package of four fritters within a couple layers of tissue.


"Appears you are first indeed." Luigi runs his sleeve against his nose to clear it. Sea air has a funny way of making your sniffle. "Here, these ones have cooled down.. but they're still pretty hot.... Once you've eaten. Go and find Sergeant Landau if you can." He glances up at the British coastline in the distance.

 

[JesterTheSheep]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0601 hours
Location: The "Troopship"

Private Byers
​

"Will do, boss." He took the wrapped fritters and saluted, looking out at the sea.
"Beautiful, ain't it? I didn't see it much as a kid." He smiled slightly to himself. "Granted, the forecast calls for blood, sweat, lead and bullets. Shame, though: I wish I could see all of this without the war going on."
He bit into a fritter, clearly impressed. "Damn! This is the bet thing I've eaten since I got here, man!"
After the compliment, Austin departed in search of this 'Sargent Landau.' Granted, he had only ever heard of him, and never really met him... yet. He wandered the deck, looking for his superior, continuing to eat his fritters.

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Private Adams

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

"It looks like we have a winner!" Eugene cheered as he put his hand out, waiting for the cigarettes he had won. The other men at the table shook their heads as they unwillingly gave him two packs each. Gene put out his cigarette on the table and tossed it on the floor as he got up from the chair, six packs of smokes richer.
"Don't try to hustle a hustler." He said leaving the room with a wide smile on his face.

When he got out on the outer deck, he noticed Sergeant Landau passing by in what looked like a hurry. For some reason, that man frightened Gene more than the war itself. He had never seen a man showing such little emotion. That was something that disturbed Gene very much.
He scanned the deck from where he stood, looking for anyone he knew from the squad. Further down the deck he could see Sergeant Barbaro cooking some food.
'Oh boy, I'm in need of some food." He thought to himself as he walked towards the Sergeant and his little cooking-station.
Austin could be seen wandering the deck, it looked like he was searching for something or someone. Gene decided to approach him and say hello to the boy. He knew Austin fairly well as they were in the same machine gun team.
"Austin! Austin, over here!" He shouted at the young boy who was chewing on something, probably from Barbaro.

 

[Becker]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0602 hours
Location: The "Troopship" (Ground-Unit transportation)

Sergeant Barbaro​

​

Luigi smirks at Austin's salute, almost dropping a few fritters in surprise.

"No need for that, I work for a living.."

He glances back up at the sea as it bobbed up and down.

"I would like to visit my family's town back in Italy... though that's just a distant dream... for now anyways..."

Luigi waves off Austin as he refocuses on the task at hand but spots Gene in the corner of his eye. He doesn't take much notice; finishing up the last batch of fritters before standing up and heading to the side of the ship. He admires the view one last time before tipping the pan full of oil into the sea. Content that at least most of the squad will have a decent breakfast; Luigi leans up against the railings and tucks into his own breakfast.

The thoughts of the task ahead stayed in Luigi's mind like a post-it note on a fridge. Whilst he did not try to think of it, the potential horrors ahead never truely left his mind. Not ever. He sighs, taking a bite but not focusing on the flavours, just the hot filling in his mouth was enough to keep his mind sharp. Pain begins to flow his mind as he burns his tongue and he rolls it to his right cheek to cool off. Luigi closes his eyes and lets his body relax; becoming almost one with the turning waves that gently rocked the ship.

"Get them back alive Lu... No matter what..."

Luigi nods to himself, opening his eyes and taking a deep icy breath. He exhales and chuckles to himself before looking back over at the approaching Private. He gives a short nod and gestures to a small awaiting pile of wrapped up fritters.

"Take one if you're hungry.. We're likely to be moving out soon... Also, have you seen Sergeant Landau?"

 

[JesterTheSheep]

Time: May 30th, 1944, 0602 hours
Location: The "Troopship"

Private Byers​

"Hey, Gene! G'morning!" Austin grinned at his teammate. "Sleep well? Or were you too busy vomiting on the floor?"
Austin turned his attention to his assistant - and close friend. Eugene and Austin were basically the closest thing to "best friends" you could get in a scenario like war. Regardless, as two members of what they considered to be the best team, they knew each other very well.

"The Sarge made em good. Real good. Gotta get the recipe sometime." He said to himself, biting another fritter. "So, what's the news, Gene? How you been?"

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Private Adams

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

"If I slept well? In a room packed with a bunch of sweaty men, yeah, sure." Gene said laughing. He really liked Austin, it was a man true to his words. There wasn't many people Gene would trust in battle, but Austin was definitely one of them.
"It sure looks good! I swear you could give that man anything and it would taste better than anything I've ever done!" He said as he shook his head in jealousy of Barb's cooking skills.
Gene's stomach was desperate for food right now, it's been way too long since the last meal.
"Nothin' new, won a few packs of smokes earlier. You know those kinds of things get me goin'! I'd love to stay for a chat Austin, but I need some chow!" Gene patted his friend on the shoulder and went further down the deck.

He was starting to feel a bit nauseas due to his lack of food on the trip. He was also a man that easily got irritated when he was hungry, never mess with him when he's on an empty stomach.
Gene tried his best to walk as far away from the edge of the ship as possible, the ocean scared the living shit out of him. Just the thought of the deep sea and all it's creatures made him shiver.
As he approached the Sergeant he could feel the delicious smell of the food. "Hello Sarge! What are you cookin? Wait, you know what, I don't care. Just give me some!" Gene's mouth was almost watering from the thought of food.

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Sergeant Landau

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

In his search for the squad, he walked out on the outer deck and began scanning the area from where he was stood. He put the gun down against the railing and his bag down on the floor as he used to handrail as support to get taller. His squad was nowhere to be found. A loud sigh came out of the tired man as he continued on his search.
He saw Gene talking to some guy further down the deck, he had no idea who that was though.

With a gun on his shoulder and a heavy bag in one of the hands, he tried to catch up with Gene who seemed to have disappeared.
'Guess I'll talk to that boy and see if he knows where Gene went.' John thought to himself as he with determined steps walked towards the Private.
"Private! Do you happen to know where that man you were talking to went? I'm his squad leader and I'm trying to find my men." John asked with a troubled face.

 

[Winter_Wolf]

Private Martin "Laz" Lazarescu
Assistant Automatic Rifleman

​

Private Laz was done with the voyage. There was nothing enjoyable outside of the interludes of entertainment, and he was glad to see that the voyage was indeed coming to an end. He had grown increasingly restless over the past few hours at the thought of finally setting foot on solid ground again--for several days at least. Yet the restlessness contrasted with his feeling of lethargy due to hunger. That's when the smell of cooking herbs reached his nose. Is that Barb? It's got to be Barb... he thought as his stomach rumbled.

It took Martin a little while to reach the source, and he hoped he hadn't missed anything. As he got closer he recognized a ravenous exclamation coming from Private Gene Adams, as they both assisted the same gunner; it seemed that Gene had only just arrived a moment before.

"Garlic and basil...it's Sarge alright. I'm not too late, am I?" Laz addressed Barb.

 

[Winter_Wolf]

Private Clyde "Mickey" McGowan
Grenadier​

Clyde McGowan had heard that they were very near to England, and so like a number of men he was eager to get up on deck to see the land grow on the horizon. He'd been looking forward to this period, though for a slightly different reason than others. He touched his pocket to double check that the piece of paper he'd found was still in his pocket. He wanted to make a sketch his first sight of the English coastline; maybe he'd include it in a letter to his sister Faye, his sole link back home to Kentucky. Clyde had drawn the countrysides he knew, but never a foreign shore.

Private McGowan spotted a non-commissioned officer speaking to another Private, neither of which he recognized--Mickey was preoccupied with his fast walk to a pre-selected vantage point. As soon as he got there, his hand went for his pencil. But it wasn't there. Mickey turned back around thinking he might have left it somewhere else. He walked back to his point of origin, plunging his hands in pockets along the way, when his shoulder bumped into a body.

"Sorry," he said, recovering and almost taking another step along his route. But he hesitated, and realized he had forgotten about, then bumped into, the NCO. It was a Sergeant to be exact. And even more precisely, Mickey McGowan recognized it was Sergeant Landau once his eyes shifted upwards a few inches. In any case Clyde straightened up.

"--sir. Sorry, sir..."

Oh hell, he thought.

 

[JesterTheSheep]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0604 hours
Location: The "Troopship"

Private Byers​

"Morning Sarge," Austin said, saluting his superior, standing at ease. "Gene just went to get some chow. You're asking the wrong guy."
With that, he wandered off.
Biting into yet another fritter, he looked out at the ocean. In the distance, he could see England, but only faintly. Finally, they were going to be put to use - for better or for worse.
Deciding to leave the deck, Austin returned to the sleeping quarters in search of his gear. He dressed down, then redressed in standard military garb, but on his pack, and fastened his helmet.
He looked like a soldier, a soldier doomed for Normandy France.
Going back out to the deck, he searched for the rest of the squad, now ready - at least, as ready as he would get - for what was to come.

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Sergeant Landau

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

John didn't even get a chance to thank the Private who walked away in what seemed like a hurry.
"Thanks..." He mumbled to himself, following the young boy with his eyes as he wandered off.
It was made clear that he knew who Eugene was, how and why was left unknown to John.

John stood still and scanned the area for any recognizable faces. He was quickly interrupted by someone who accidentally bumped in to him. The Sergeant turned around only to find it was McGowan.
He pretended like he didn't hear Mickey's excuse and took a step closer to him.
"Is there something wrong with your hand Private? Or have you been holding your weapon for too long?" He asked with a dead expression on his face wondering why the Private didn't salute him.
Landau was known to be strict and to put fear in those under him. Even though he never raised his voice or acted aggressive towards any of his men, people found him intimidating. It might be the fact that he never did just that, and that he was as closed as a person could be.

 

[Commissar Darman]

Two packs, Thats how many cigarettes Arthur has already burned through this morning. Looking out to the Open sea. He flicked another butt over the side and placed a fresh one in his mouth. No matter how much he tried to deny it. Arthur was nervous. There is a war going on out there and every day he gets closer to it. Lifting his Lighter to the Cigarette. Arthur let it sit there without lighting it. for some reason he just didn't want to light it. so it just sat there in his mouth unlit. Sighing, Arthur left the railing on the port side of the ship and made his way center. Pushing his way through the growing crowd. Arthur came across the Sergeant who seemed to be giving his fellow Grenadier a hard time. Smiling as he let the unlit Cigarette hang loose in his mouth. Arthur approached the two and made his presence known by slapping hind hand on the young privates shoulder. "what do we have here? Its not even eight and someone is already getting the infamous Sarge stare down?"

 

[Becker]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0604 hours
Location: The "Troopship" (Ground-Unit transportation)

Sergeant Barbaro
​

Luigi smiled at the small gathering of privates, content that no-one had been murdered in their sleep; so far at least anyway. He gives a brief nod at Martin and Gene, handing over some fritters wrapped up in napkins.

"Best keep your strength up, we're likely to be moving out soon."

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Landau demanding a salute from Clyde and frowns at him. Luigi opened his mouth to comment but decided otherwise, instead thinking to himself 'Ain't even a Lieutenant'... Luigi smirks at Landau, shaking his head and yawns as he wonders over to the group. He places himself towards the between the middle of Landau and Clyde, saying nothing; merely observing Arthur and John. Luigi pauses to run his fingers through his mustache to remove any crumbs from eating earlier. He would stink of a mixture of sweat, various spices whilst his uniform was dotted with hot oil splashes. Not giving much of a shit, he begins to play around the rim of his helmet; slung on his left hip. Luigi admired the barbed wire that he wrapped around since bootcamp; A reminder to himself that if it comes to it, he will put himself first as leader if Sergeant Landau wasn't up to the job. Not that Luigi wanted the responsibility of taking over; in truth he wasn't prepared in any sense if anything were to happen to Landau. His eyes drifted from the group as he pondered until he pricked his finger on the barbed wire and his attention was brought back to the group.

"Sergeant Landau, i'm your second in command... I believe we're likely to be landed soon judging by the approaching coast. May I suggest we have everyone's equipment together and be ready to disembark?"

 

[Achilles676]

PVT. Andrew "Andy" Hutchison

05/30/44
~0600
Troopship

When it came time for him to be awoken, Andy nearly dove out of his bunk to begin preparing. The exitement of finally doing something, anything, was almost too much to handle. He looked around at everyone else in the room struggling to shake off the grasp of sleep and grinned before dropping his helmet on his head and slinging his pack onto his shoulder. With his hands free, he finished buttoning his jacket and headed for the upper decks. The taste and smell of salty sea water assaulted his senses when he arrived at the top of the stairs. Immediately, with a huge grin still on his face, he set off toward the bow of the ship to get the best view of the English shore possible. Andy tried to memorize as many people as possible but the croud was thick and he wasn't paying the greatest attention so near no one was recognized. Of course he stood aside and saluted officers but not much mattered to him at the moment.

Andy had always wanted to travel. Of course this isn't how he thought he would be doing it but you take what you can get. When he arrived at the ztarboard bow of the ship Andy leaned over the railing for a couple seconds and watched the water rush past the ship. Standing straight once again with his eyes closed and his head leaned back, the young man took a moment to collect himself. He thought of his situation, the circumstances, home, his family, and how long this war would last. But most of all he thought about the men around him. Andy wasn't worried about them all being criminals or that they all may die, but simply who they were. Everyone has a story and he loved hearing them. When he reopened his eyes, Andy could see and hear distant seagulls. ​

 

[PenguinFox]

Pvt. Dean Evans​

Dean had been up for several hours merely watching the waves go by in a trance like state. After what had seemed like eternities he was finally almost to Europe. At some point an enticing smell had drifted into his nose. It had to be Barbaro cooking. At least Dean didn't think anyone else would be cooking. He managed to pull himself from his trance like state and meandered out the door, grabbing his journal on the way out. He made his way to the deck and inhaled the salty air, refreshing his lungs after being in the cramped below deck. He looked around at the faces on deck, spotting familiar ones. He knew most of the names of the men he would be 'working' with, whether they knew his however was yet to be seen. Dean was more of the observe and watch kind of guy and because of that he tended to fade into the background, even with his stature. He figured at least the higher ups would know his name, but the other privates? They probably only knew his face. He made his way close to where most of the familiar faces were but kept his head down. He didn't make any eye contact and tried to stay out of the way, but close enough to respond if called upon. This was just his nature, probably why he is going to be the scout of this ragtag band of merrymen.

Dean pulled out the small journal from his pocket and began writing in it, every now and then looking up to the sea for inspiration. He was writing a letter to his fiance back home, as he had been doing every step of the way.

 

[memphis]

Pvt. Marcellinus Delaney​

Date: May 30, 1944
Location: The Troopship


“Christ,” Marcellinus muttered below his breath, clammy palms resting upon the gunwale as he tried to focus on the horizon, his face pale. Supposedly this was supposed to help with the nausea that had been tearing at him since he’d boarded the ship, but Marcellinus had his doubts. What's staring out at nothin' going to do?

Marcellinus was a man who had never so much as seen the ocean. Having been born and raised in Chicago, he’d hardly set foot outside the Midwest in his whole twenty-five years of existence. Nevertheless, all the stories he’d heard of the sea had him feeling giddy with anticipation when it came time for him to be shipped off to Europe. Every time his father had sat Marcellinus and his siblings down to tell them what it had been like, that fateful boat-ride to America, he’d always described the ocean as vast and inspiring, the vessel itself like a blessed beacon of hope for the future. Much of his eagerness, he later had realized was more likely on account of the fact he was being driven mad, locked up in a prison cell most hours of the day. Now that he had seen it all for himself, Marcellinus was underwhelmed, to say the least. Not only was the boat crowded and stuffy, but he’d felt sick as a dog almost the entire time he’d been on the ship.

With every wave that rocked the boat he could just feel his stomach churn. Marcellinus had barely managed a lick of sleep the night prior; rather, he’d spent most of the evening above deck, strung over the side of the vessel. Despite the general atmosphere of excitement around him—whether it was just to get back on dry land he wasn't sure—Marcellinus wasn’t having any part in the merriment. Sure, he was as eager as anyone to get off the godforsaken boat, but he’d had plenty of time last night to really think about where they were headed, about what would become of them once they arrived. When he’d first been presented with the opportunity to get out of prison, Marcellinus was elated; it didn’t matter the conditions under which he was released. Funny, how he now felt like an animal being led to slaughter.

Taking in a deep breath, Marcellinus straightened out his back once again, in an attempt to compose himself. He glanced around him, noticing another man not too far away, near the railing. Perhaps it would be wise to figure out what was going on; he’d heard some commotion, and it seemed the rest of his troop was suiting up. Marcellinus, on the other hand, had been too absorbed in his own dealings that he paid no mind to whatever orders or instructions that had been given. Once he’d let go of the railing, he lurched forward lazily. The guy didn’t seem too busy, only looking out at the water and scenery, so Marcellinus figured he wouldn’t be interrupting much.

“Hey,” he called out in greeting, as he approached. “You know what all the commotion ‘round here is about? We getting real close, or something?”

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Private Adams

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

Gene took a big bite of a fritter, watching Sergeant Barbaro walk towards Landau, McGwowan and Ahlborne.
"Hey, Martin. I bet you two packs of smokes that Landau's giving either Clyde or Arthur a scolding." He said with his mouth full of Barbs delicious fritters. Gene had learned the hard way, that you should never give Sergeant Landau any reason whatsoever to give you shit. Landau was a tough man, he wasn't too popular amongst the men. Nobody in the squad knew about Landau's past, not where he came from or why he was here.

The smell of tobacco was everywhere, almost everyone on the ship was smokers. As the cigarette smoke blew up in Gene's face, it reminded him of something. Gene was a heavy smoker, he was rarely seen without a cigarette in his mouth,
"I almost forgot!" He said as he picked up a pack of smokes from his shirt pocket. He opened it up and put a cigarette in his mouth.
"Cigarette?" He asked Martin with a cigarette hanging loose in his mouth.

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Sergeant Landau

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

"Remember Private, you salute the rank, not the man." He said only seconds before Ahlborne joined the group of two.
Lighting another cigar he could see Sergeant Barbaro approaching in the corner of his eye.

John picked up his dirty old notebook that was filled with little notes of things he had to remember. He read through his last written notes to see what he had left to do.
"Report to Captain Smith... Clean my weapon... Write to Louise... Gather the squad..." He mumbled to himself with his finger following every sentence in the notebook.
'Just the squad left.' He thought as he put his notebook back in to the pocket of the shirt.

He shifted his focus from his own mind to Sergeant Barbaro. John thought good of Barb, he believed it was a good leader.
"Yes, that's exactly what we're doing. The Military Police just informed me that we're only minutes away. Do you know where the squad is? I've been looking everywhere." He said as he exhaled the smoke away from Barb's face.

 

[Becker]

Time: May 30th, 1944, ~0605 hours
Location: The "Troopship" (Ground-Unit transportation)

Sergeant Barbaro
​

Luigi briefly nodded to Sergeant Landau, confirming his thoughts that they were coming close to docking. Clearing his throat, he looks towards the other men in the squad with a fair but stern expression as he spoke above them.

"Alright; I want Adams, Delaney, Ahlborne, McGowan and Laz to remain here.. get yourselves in order and prepare to disembark... If you have shit left below decks then go get them now... You won't have chance to return here otherwise.."

As he spoke he spots Byers returning from below and calls out to him whilst adding onto his conversation with everyone else.

"Byers, get your gear ready to go and regroup with the others here. I want -everyone- from first squad to be present within the next five minutes..."

Luigi glances at Landau for a few moments, rubbing his nose and placing his helmet on with a sense of purpose.

"I'll make a brief search for the rest of the squad, Sergeant. If you can remain here and keep any officers informed then things should go alot more smoothly."

Barbaro stood back, turning on his heel and headed back to his stove. Wiping it clean with the sleeve of his shirt, he shoved it into his backpack along with anything else he had out at the time. Luigi returns to face Landau; with all his gear this time and his Thompson at his side. He says nothing, merely giving Landau a short stare before walking past and heading towards one of the doorways to below deck. Barbaro's opinion of Landau was mixed to say the least, he didn't like the man; nor did he hate him. After making way for a few sailors on duty to come past, Barb made his way through the quarters of the ship giving out a loud call as he did so.

"1st Squad, 2nd Platoon, Fox Company, 3rd Battalion, 408th Infantry Regiment.. get your arses up the stairs and report to Sergeant Landau!..."

After a few minutes of searching, making his way through the maze of bedding, ammunition dumps and makeshift galleries. Barb returns up the stairs to regroup with the squad. Hopefully his orders were heard by whoever was still behind.

 

[The Lonely Astronaut]

Sergeant Landau

Overview

Location	The Troopship
Date	May 30th, 1944

John remained on the outer deck, waiting for the rest of the squad to arrive. With a cigar in his mouth, he looked around to see who was already here. Most of the squad looked like they were here, they probably had to go and gather all of their equipment though.
He hung his Thompson on his shoulder and crouched down to check through his bag one last time. John kept everything in his bag neat, he did not like messes. As he carefully made sure he had everything he needed in his bag, a photo of his wife appeared. He picked it up and looked at it for a while before deciding to keep it in his front pocket of the shirt. He didn't have a clue how the photo got there.
John put out his cigar on his helmet before putting it on his head, the rest of the cigar he put back down in to the pack.
The outer deck was getting more and more crowded for every second that passed.

In order to make sure that the squad didn't get lost in this mass of people, John walked over to side of the ship and stood up on the railing. He noticed Barbaro coming back up, so he waved towards the Sergeant to make sure he knew they had changed position.

John might seem like a man that doesn't fear a thing, but he was just as scared as any other man aboard this ship. He was just very good at hiding it, you do not want to show your men that you're afraid, it's a sign of weakness.