lol- no fair telling what actually happened since you already know this story.
Case Study: The Soul Plane Incident
- Thread starter Marauder06
- Start date
How are you going to gather the scattered to the winds MID back together to honor the request to toast Billy Bradley? Douchet is well beyond a toast already and I see him getting belligerent and becoming a HUGE stain on the decorous behavior of the rest of your unit....
Unless, the toast takes place at the pre board formation/headcount/roll.... douchet may be passed out or in jail by that time, he will have had an hour to wholly screw the unit at that point.
Unless, the toast takes place at the pre board formation/headcount/roll.... douchet may be passed out or in jail by that time, he will have had an hour to wholly screw the unit at that point.
And....? Next installment please! :) This is another good one.
Sorry, sorting through boxes. Next installment after I unpack the china.
I'm surprised Mrs. Mara is letting Mara (aka SGT Douchet) anywhere near the china at all:-|
I know..that is why Im calling BS about the china unpacking. He probably is busy laying out all his little treasures on the tarp in the garage.....:-"
You must have a lot of china.
lol
Just for you:
“So, what do you think we should get,” you ask MSG Rose. “I think Bradley was partial to a good Scotch,” he replies. It takes her best smile, one of the two $100 bills Gary Williams gave you, and about fifteen minutes of cajoling in Spanish but Chief Rollins, your female counterintelligence warrant officer, eventually persuades the bartender agrees to give up an unopened bottle his best Scotch. The bartender brings over a tray full of shot glasses and a bottle of 18-year-old Glenlivet. You’ve never heard of Glenlivet before, and you figure for what you just shelled out for that one bottle you could have probably gotten a gallon of your favorite Southern Comfort, but whatever, the Glenlivet seemed to make everyone else happy.
The bar still only holds the members of your company and the bar staff. You figure that the bottle will probably give all of your guys one shot apiece with maybe a little left over. MSG Rush hands out the shotglasses as you uncork the bottle. While you pour the drinks , Marsh and his teammates walk in. “Gentlemen,” you say about the noise, “I hope you’ll join us for a drink!” Marsh and Paul take a seat at your table.
“Thanks for the offer,” Marsh says, “but I’m not drinking until after the funerals.”
“Fair enough,” you respond, “we’re mourning the loss of one of our own too. SGT Billy Bradley.”
Marsh looks at you for a moment. “SGT Bradley, one of the fallen heroes of Najaf?”
“Yes,” you reply, “did you know him?”
“Yeah, he was a gunner in the element that was attached to my team when we went in after al Sadr!” Marsh said excitedly. “Hey,” he leans over to Paul, who was engrossed in conversation with Chief Rollins and clearly did not want to be disturbed, “These guys are from SGT Bradley’s unit!”
Paul looked down at the table. “That was a bad day for both of our units,” he says.
“I’d like to hear about it. The story we got up at Group level was conflicting and kind of all over the place,” MSG Rush adds softly.
Marsh considers this for a second. “Sure,” he looks at Paul, “I think we should break them out.” Paul calls the team together and they pull out identical shot glasses, emblazoned with the Special Forces crest and engraved with “223,” their team number. Seeing the shot glasses, someone says “Wow, you SF guys take that “be prepared” business seriously.” “That’s the Boy Scouts, you idiot,” someone else chimes in, and everyone laughs.
As the shots were handed out, the atmosphere was a strange mix of sadness at the loss of comrades, and joy at the thought of going home. When everyone who wanted one had a shot in hand, you stand up and say, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to celebrate the lives of five brave men. I ask you to raise your glasses to the memory of those we lost from the Group MI Company and ODA 223. Our Soldiers fought and died together in Najaf, brave men good too soon. Before we down our shots, I’d like to ask ODA 223 if they’d like to say a few words.”
Paul looks at Marsh and says, “All yours, sir.” Marsh raises his glass, and in a loud clear voice says, “Here’s to us and those like us.” “DAMN FEW LEFT” comes the thunderous response.
The liquor burns down your throat and immediately you feel a warming sensation in your face. That was pretty good, actually. Not worth $100 a bottle, but pretty damn good liquor. As you’re settling down from the toast, an Air Force NCO bursts into the club, a concerned look on his face. MSG Rush jumps up and walks over to him. They talk briefly, the Air Force NCO waving his hands animatedly. This can’t be good. You get up and walk over, but before you can ask him what happened, MSG Rush bellows out, “LISTEN UP! The flight has been delayed. Meet back in the terminal in ONE HOUR. ONE HOUR!” and he starts to head out the door. “Wait a minute, where are you going?” you ask. “NCO business, sir,” he replies and heads out the door. NCO business… hopefully it’s not the kind of NCO business that doesn’t suddenly jump up to be “Officer business” too…
<<author’s note: yes, I’m tying this storyline into “The Loyal Wife” one, yes I know that the plot and characters don’t match up completely, yes I’ll fix it a bit later ;)>>
I haven't decided if Paul is married yet or not... plus, I'm not sure there's any time to develop anything between now and when this story mercifully ends. Then again, you never know ;)
Does she now? Hmmm.....
Only one comment about the Boy Scout line....
One of the 2 SF guys should have noted, possibly sotto voce, "And we wear Girl Scout hats."
One of the 2 SF guys should have noted, possibly sotto voce, "And we wear Girl Scout hats."
There is a pitcher of beer and several empty glasses on your table when you return. Paul picks up the pitcher and pours a glass for you, Marsh, Chief Rollins, your good friend Captain Jones, and finally for himself. You leave an empty glass to mark MSG Rush’s place so he has a place to sit when he gets back from whatever “NCO business” he dashed off to handle. Something looks… different about Paul. About all of the team, for that matter. “You shaved!” you blurt out. Not only are they all shaved, they are back in uniform. “Yep!” says Paul, “Relaxed grooming standards only apply in-theater, and if we were still in-theater, we couldn’t do this,” he adds, raising his beer glass and draining it.
The first pitcher is soon gone, and another is ordered. You notice that the club is starting to fill up with Airmen and civilians from the local base. The bartenders and waitstaff begin setting up a buffet of local food. “Must be a damn good lunch menu,” Captain Jones says, surveying the crowd. “More like a floor show of some type,” says Chief Rollins, noting the way the patrons tended to cluster at the tables closest to the stage. Halfway through your second pitcher of beer, MSG Rush returns. His face is a bit red and he seems to be breathing heavily. “Everything OK?” you ask. “I took care of it,” he replies, clearly not wanting to discuss what “it” was. You decide to let it go. “Well, your timing is good,” you say as Paul pours MSG Rush a glass of beer, “looks like chow is served.” “Great,” he growls, “I’m starving.”
The food is an extensive and delicious compilation of local Spanish cuisine. As you load your plate with meat, cheese, and bread, you notice the stage being prepared for a show. Lights are readied, the stage floor is tested… and is that a dry ice machine? Maybe KISS is going to perform here today…
With the warmth of the beer and food warming your belly, you feel it’s an appropriate time to ask about something that’s been on your mind. “Marsh, you lost your guys in the in Najaf the same time we lost Billy Bradley. But that battle was three weeks ago… we sent Bradley back immediately after it happened. Why is the Group just now getting around to sending your guys home?”
Marsh sips his beer and nods. “During the battle for Najaf, our ODA was called out as the QRF to help out a conventional unit that had been cut off and was on the verge of being overrun. We were running 6 vehicles, containing our full ODA and a contingent of SWAT from al-Hilla that we had been training for a while. We made a turn down by the cemetery and ran into an ambush. An RPG hit our lead vehicle, it got two of our guys and two Iraqis. The second vehicle got hit too, same thing. The gunners in both vehicles were wounded, but still in the fight. Bradley was on the minigun in the turret of the lead vehicle. By the time we fought our way out of the ambush and up to where the two vehicles were, everyone was dead and the Mahdi Army had run off with their corpses.”
“Why didn’t they take Bradley’s body too?” you ask.
“Well, he was kind of… stuck in the turret when we found him,” answered Paul, taking over the storytelling. “We had to use tools to cut him loose. We recovered his body, but all of our guys and the SWAT indig were all missing. We all swore that we would not come home until we got our guys back. It took a lot of head-bashing and a little bit of cash but eventually we got them all. Our last mission was personnel recovery for our own guys. It looked like Bradley put up a hell of a fight before they got him. Spent brass and blood trails everywhere. Marsh put him in for the Silver Star.”
Recounting the story of Najaf was a bit of a buzzkill, but it was good to finally understand what happened in the battle. An awkward silence falls over the table, broken when loud Spanish music kicks up and vapor begins pouring from the dry ice machines. It looks like a show is about to start…
The first pitcher is soon gone, and another is ordered. You notice that the club is starting to fill up with Airmen and civilians from the local base. The bartenders and waitstaff begin setting up a buffet of local food. “Must be a damn good lunch menu,” Captain Jones says, surveying the crowd. “More like a floor show of some type,” says Chief Rollins, noting the way the patrons tended to cluster at the tables closest to the stage. Halfway through your second pitcher of beer, MSG Rush returns. His face is a bit red and he seems to be breathing heavily. “Everything OK?” you ask. “I took care of it,” he replies, clearly not wanting to discuss what “it” was. You decide to let it go. “Well, your timing is good,” you say as Paul pours MSG Rush a glass of beer, “looks like chow is served.” “Great,” he growls, “I’m starving.”
The food is an extensive and delicious compilation of local Spanish cuisine. As you load your plate with meat, cheese, and bread, you notice the stage being prepared for a show. Lights are readied, the stage floor is tested… and is that a dry ice machine? Maybe KISS is going to perform here today…
With the warmth of the beer and food warming your belly, you feel it’s an appropriate time to ask about something that’s been on your mind. “Marsh, you lost your guys in the in Najaf the same time we lost Billy Bradley. But that battle was three weeks ago… we sent Bradley back immediately after it happened. Why is the Group just now getting around to sending your guys home?”
Marsh sips his beer and nods. “During the battle for Najaf, our ODA was called out as the QRF to help out a conventional unit that had been cut off and was on the verge of being overrun. We were running 6 vehicles, containing our full ODA and a contingent of SWAT from al-Hilla that we had been training for a while. We made a turn down by the cemetery and ran into an ambush. An RPG hit our lead vehicle, it got two of our guys and two Iraqis. The second vehicle got hit too, same thing. The gunners in both vehicles were wounded, but still in the fight. Bradley was on the minigun in the turret of the lead vehicle. By the time we fought our way out of the ambush and up to where the two vehicles were, everyone was dead and the Mahdi Army had run off with their corpses.”
“Why didn’t they take Bradley’s body too?” you ask.
“Well, he was kind of… stuck in the turret when we found him,” answered Paul, taking over the storytelling. “We had to use tools to cut him loose. We recovered his body, but all of our guys and the SWAT indig were all missing. We all swore that we would not come home until we got our guys back. It took a lot of head-bashing and a little bit of cash but eventually we got them all. Our last mission was personnel recovery for our own guys. It looked like Bradley put up a hell of a fight before they got him. Spent brass and blood trails everywhere. Marsh put him in for the Silver Star.”
Recounting the story of Najaf was a bit of a buzzkill, but it was good to finally understand what happened in the battle. An awkward silence falls over the table, broken when loud Spanish music kicks up and vapor begins pouring from the dry ice machines. It looks like a show is about to start…
OK... what did MSG Rush have to do to Douchet?
And why did you bring Chief Rollins to a Strip Club?
And why did you bring Chief Rollins to a Strip Club?
My plot lines are becoming too predictable...
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