This is the in character thread for Shagon Wagon.

The FISTv pulled in near Alpha Battery, 2-21st Field Artillery.  Gavin got out and stretched a bit.  Normally a Field Artillery battery was a noisy place, but not tonight.  The guns were eerily silent.

”Go ahead and turn it off Tabby.  I think we’ll be here a while.  Once we get these prisoners unloaded, go ahead and get some shuteye.  Hopefully I won't be too far behind you.  In fact I promise I won't be too far behind you,” he added with a wink.

Gavin turned toward the gunline and whistled, ”Little help here, got some prisoners.”

Walking around to the rear passenger door, he opened it and pulled the blindfold and gag off the first Russian.  He cut his feet free but left his hands tied in back until some of the Alpha Battery guys showed up.

”Hey, can one of you guys get Chunk?” Barr called out.  He knew that fatboy slim was a former nurse.  Barr wanted the walking wounded here looked over to make sure they were none the worse for wear after their road trip.

”Hey LT, guys said you wanted to see me?” Chunk said, as he approached the HMMWV.  ”Oh shit, you got Commies” he added, seeing the wounded POWs emerging from the vehicles.  Field Artillery guys didn't see a lot of Soviet infantry up close.

When Gavin explained that he wanted them looked over, Chunk hesitated.  Fuck these Red bastards! he thought to himself.  But realizing that the request could easily become an order, he agreed.  He pulled his stethoscope and BP cuff out of his bag and put on a pair of gloves.

Chunk had stopped telling people he was a nurse before the war.  The laughs, taunts, and all that shit was getting old.  Men could be nurses too, but damn if anyone in the 5th ID thought so.

”MEDIC..  MMMEEEDDDIIICCC..  I’M A MEDIC,” he said to the POWs, relying on the implicit understanding that all Americans have – the English language, delivered at a sufficiently high volume with words pronounced slowly, overcomes all known language barriers.

OOC: Chunk will check each render first aid as necessary.

11:34, Today: SPC Brian 'Chunk' Jackson rolled 56 using 1d100. MED POW #3.
11:45, Today: SPC Brian 'Chunk' Jackson rolled 14 using 1d100. MED Failure roll for  #2. NOT A CATASTROPHIC FAILURE - Regular Failure
11:34, Today: SPC Brian 'Chunk' Jackson rolled 97 using 1d100. MED POW #2. POSSIBLE CATASTROPIC FAILURE
11:33, Today: SPC Brian 'Chunk' Jackson rolled 27 using 1d100. MED - POW #1.

First aid for the #2 guy is a failure, the others should succed for easy checks (which, from what I've found, rendering first aid is - ESY). 

The guns might have been silent, but 2-21 FA was far from a quiet place. The FDC was alive with calls from ALL over the area from units farther away than the guns could accurately strike. It seemed the code word 'Bingo' for ammo wasn't understood, or units didn't WANT to understand.

To make matters worse, Cpt Rivers, 1Lt Barr's boss and 2-21 FA commander, was having a heated discussion with some Lieutenant from the infantry.

To make matters worse, Spc Jackson failed to notice that the prisoners were stabilized BEFORE 1Lt Barr transported them to the 2-21 FA area, making his efforts, although appreciated, not needed.

OOC:

Fatboy Slim is fucking in heaven

OOC:

Are uh...we 'outsourcing' prisoner security to the NPCs...again? :)

OOC:

Just checking to make sure no bandages got ripped off during transport, no wounds opened back up, that kind of thing.  Bound, gagged, blindfolded, and shoved three in the back of a HMMWV is not exactly a world class standard of care.

Besides, having a medic look you over, no matter how unnecessary, beats getting repeatedly kicked in the gut.  Hell, it might even be a good start to establishing a bit of trust and rapport.

I mean, we wrote the book on water boarding, but do I have to start with that to talk with these guys?  Or will a little medical care, a cigarette, and some wodka work too? ;)

Gavin grabbed an MRE, pack of cigarettes from his rucksack, along with a bottle of local vodka.  He broke down the MRE into thirds, based on pouch calories.  Barr took lowest ranking Soviet aside, away from the noise of the FDC, to talk.

”My name is Andrew Barr, What is your name?” Gavin said, starting with what he learned in Russian 101.  He handed over 1/3 of the MRE.

Gavin had always considered that he might take a Civil Affairs or Foreign Area Officer job later in his career, which had been the impetus to learn Russian in college.  Well that and the fact that Eastern European women were definitely his type.  He appreciated the talent that could be found in Thailand, but having grown up in the heat and humidity of North Carolina, he wasn’t a big fan Asia in general.  And while the Thai girls were good with their hands and mouths, the Ukrainian gymnasts could do things with their bodies that seemed to invalidate more than a few chapters of Gray’s Anatomy.

He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to the soldier.  ”Where are you from?”  When the bottle of vodka came out, Barr took a drink, then handed it over so the Soviet solider could have a draw.  "What unit are you with" He spent a few minutes asking some basic questions, listening carefully to try to understand the responses.  Slowly he worked through a list of questions.

Did your unit come from China?
Is it a bit unit, or small unit?
How many tanks?
New Kalashnikovs from Moscow, Yes?

OOC: 09:12, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 43 using 1d100. LNG (RUSSIAN). (Makes ESY and AVG, but not DIF)

Maybe we’ll get through all the questions, maybe not, but Gav will at least try to collect some intel.. for what it is worth.  He'll do the same with the next ranking Soviet, and lastly the highest ranking Soviet as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:41, Sun 06 Jan 2013.

OOC:

LNG: RUS in three pairs please

2 x ESY, 2 X AVG, 2 X DIFF

OOC: The die roller is back to hating me again:

14:19, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 38 using 1d100. LNG Failure. (CATASTROPHIC FAILURE - Broken Tounge - Chunk will have to splint - Tabby will be very unhappy.)
14:19, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 100,56 using 1d100,1d100. LNG: DIF.

14:19, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 9 using 1d100. LNG Failure. (NOT CATASTROPHIC -JUST REGULAR FAILURE)
14:19, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 32,96 using 1d100,1d100. LNG: AVG.

14:18, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 49 using 1d100. LNG Failure. (NOT CATASTROPHIC -JUST REGULAR FAILURE)
14:18, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 84,90 using 1d100,1d100. LNG: ESY.

The silence of the guns, the raised voices coming from the truck where the Captain was shouting with the Earthman, and the drooling Chunk Jackson served to distract the FISTer as he tried to extract info from these soldiers.

He did realize that the language was Ukrainian, and the tall, light-skinned men with their fair hair and green, blue, and light brown eyes seemed to back up his guess where they were from. It wasn't anything they said, but the language, the looks, the new uniforms, and the rifles all served to paint a picture that these troops were not long-serving combat veterans.

Barr finished up with the three Ukrainians and then pawned them off on some unsuspecting enlisted cannoner.  "Process these guys, I gotta talk with the Captain."

Barr approached Captain Rivers and the Infantry Lieutenant.  He saluted,  then waited for the Captain before speaking.

"I don't give a shit what your orders are Lieutenant, you pull out of here, we die" Cpt Rivers said as 1Lt Barr walked up.

"Sorry sir, orders are orders" the Lieutenant said, noticing Barr approach.

"Fuck's the matter with you Gavin, you trying to get me shot?" Rivers said when he's been 'Barred' by the salute. "You've been spending too much time up front with these types."

”Sorry, Captain, I had more faith in our perimeter until just now,” Barr said after hearing the infantry Lieutenant speak.

”Where the hell are they going?” Barr asked.

OOC: Saluting your CO in combat – where Military Courtesy and Advancement Opportunity intersect. :P
This message was last edited by the player at 12:21, Sun 06 Jan 2013.

As the three officers were talking, the sounds of battle picked up. The low thuds of the Soviet artillery pounding Kalisz increased, and they were punctuated by the high-pitched crack of tank cannons to the south.

"We're going" the infantry officer said, turning and swallowing hard at the same time, "Towards that."

"Un-believable" Stephen Rivers said, his arms folded across his chest watching as the twenty infantrymen formed to columns and started walking to the south. "Just...unbelievable."

Gavin shook his head as the stupidity level kept rising.

"Sir, I'm going to have to go back to 1-40 at some point, but first I wanted to see if there was anything I could do on the ammo front?" Gavin asked.  He was attached to 1-40th and technically they controlled his taskings and assignments.  But Gav liked to play in the space created between his chain of command and theirs.  It allowed him to be more effective on the battlefield, and find time for his extracurricular activities.  He knew without 155 support, he and Abernathy would just as likely end up as a scout for the armor, in his soft skin HMMWV.

"Like hell you are" Cpt Rivers said. "I need you here. I sent you to those armor clowns to spot artillery for them, Gavin. We don't have shit except a few smoke rounds yet, so why would you have to go back there?"

"No arguments here.  If I'm unattached from 1-40th, it's no skin off my nose.  What can I help with here Sir?" Gavin asked, shifting gears from worrying about 1-40th's issues, to worrying about 2-21st's problems.

Steve Rivers took a deep breath. When he let it out, he felt some of the stress leaving him. He didn't want this. He wanted to be a pilot. Up there winging over all this mud and blood. If a frog had wings he could hear his mother say. He motioned for Barr to follow him with two fingers.

Cpt Rivers walked over to the deuce and a half he was using as a command vehicle/tractor/wheelbarrow for his broken dreams. He reached into the passenger's side door and pulled out the wrinkled, beat up 1:50,000 with red, blue, black and green grease pencil marks all over it. Shining a red-lensed 'moonbeam', the two officers crouched down over the map on the ground and talked business.

"We're here, right?" the battery commander confirmed, pointing to 2-21 FA's current positon. "You just came from here, friendlies are here and here, bad guys are here, here, here, over here, oh, here too...fuck, basically everywhere."

Stephen Rivers rubbed his mouth with his non-flashlight hand. The cordite on his hand transferred to his face, and it reminded 1Lt Barr of an extra from a low-budget WW2 movie. When he realized he wasn't saying anything by Barr's face, he continued.

"DivComm is up my ass to support those tank jockies holding Kalisz" he said in the dark, shifting a bit and moving the red light as he did so. "Personally, I'm ready to spike the one five fives and go native. If I spoke one word of that devil fucking language these fucking greasy Slavs speak, I might try it."

With the red light on the map, after he moved the light Gavin Barr couldn't see the artillery officer's face as well as the moment before. There was no laughter, no smile and the Master FISTer was at a loss whether his OIC was kidding or not.

"Three-nineteen eff ay is here" he said, pointing at the map. "If you can get there, beg, borrow, or steal, I don't know, and I don't want to know how you do it, but get some one five five shells and bring them back here. Then if you complete THAT fucking miracle, I'll need you to go spot for those Doofi tank turds one last time."

OOC:

Updated map

”Well I could have spent more time banging coeds at Sydney Lewis Hall for all the good Russian has done me.  Ukrainian, Armenian, Russian, Georgian… How the fuck the Soviet Union works, I’ll never know.” Gavin said in response his CO’s comment about the devil tongue.

Barr listened intently his CO’s commands.  When Rivers was finished, Gavin sounded off.

”Ooosha Sir,”  It was the much gayer version of the Infantry Hooah - the version that was used around the Field Artillery School at Ft. Sill.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."  After a nod instead of a salute, he turned and doubled timed it to the FISTv.

OOC:

If Tabitha is asleep in the back (hopefully), Gav will drive and let her get some rest on the way up.  Chunk is hanging at 2-21st for this one.

40 kph on the major roads, 20 kph on the back road segment that skirts Opatowek.

20:56, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 83 using 1d100. RCN. Misses AVG, makes ESY

1. Kieruj się na południe
2,2 km
2. Skręć w prawo
5,2 km
3. Skręć w lewo w kierunku Trasa 12
1,2 km
4. Skręć w prawo w Trasa 12
5,0 km
5. Lekko w prawo w Łódzka
97 m
6. Skręć w prawo w Warszawska
550 m
7. Skręć w lewo w Aleja Generała Władysława Sikorskiego
1,0 km
8. Skręć w prawo w Stawiszyńska
Przejedź przez 1 rondo
2,5 km
9. Kontynuuj wzdłuż Trasa 25
1,4 km
10. Skręć w lewo
500 m
  Nieznana droga
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Tue 08 Jan 2013.

"I would say it doesn't, but the truth is, they sure as shit have us on the run" Cpt Rivers said. He looked around in the half-moon night, his eyes wide as saucers. When Gavin gave him a nod, Stephen Rivers put out his hand.

"I'm sorry I have to ask you to do this, Gav" Rivers said as the two men shook hands, possibly for the last time. "I wish...well, take care of yourself."

"Good Luck, Sir."

On the way to the FISTv, Gavin could swear he heard bagpipes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB2Ad04mukI

OOC:

Are you sure he doesn't hear these bagpipes instead?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0_EwUfTzO0

His 'assistant' asleep in the back as he drove, 1Lt Gavin Barr drove back south towards State Road 471. It was beautiful, Poland at night, when you got away from people trying to kill you and you were able to sneak a peek at the stars.

A staccato belt-fed weapon in the distance followed by an explosion brought the Master FISTer back to his present reality. Turning right onto Turkowska, he was able to pick up the speed a bit. His NVGs pulled on his head and strained his neck as he thought about everything from fuel concerns to his current mission to how he felt about the young girl asleep in the back and everything in between.

The next turn was the rondo, and Gavin had enough sense to slow down for it. Rondo. A cheap way to control traffic popular all over Europe and the UK, it was almost like a mini roller coaster if you sped up on the exit and timed your turn right.

Coming out of the rondo onto a two word street Gavin couldn't pronounce and wouldn't care to try, he increased his speed. He loved the lateral g forces as he came quickly out of the rondos here in Poland. Even with the big 33 inch tires and almost a foot of rubber on the road, Barr could get the tired to squeal if he hit the turns fast enough.

In the fast exit of the turn, a black shape emerged in the darkness. Brake or swerve, if Gavin didn't do something, he would hit the black shape clearly in the road in the next second or two.

OOC:

Actions and DIFF:WVD, please

”Jesus,” Barr said, his foot having already shifted over to the brakes.  He pressed down hard and fast, but avoided stomping on the big pedal.  As he did so, Gavin tightened his hands on the steering wheel.  With the HMMWV rapidly decelerating it took concentration and strength to keep control.  He tried as best he could to judge the distance in the dark, and swerved, now at a lower speed, to avoid the object, hope that he FISTv would both miss it, and have lost enough momentum not to go too far off the road.

05:06, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 7 using 1d100. WVD: DIFF.  WHOO!  Made it!

OOC:

OK so to be clear, you want the Hummer to try to stop, or you want to avoid the lump and keep going?

1Lt Barr got hard on the brakes. The FISTV was heavier than most Hummers, but the brake pedal was wide enough for Gavin to get both feet on it. He put so much pressure on it as he swerved, his quad muscles activated as his 'seat' came off his seat.

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 27):

"Five more minutes, Momma" Pfc Abernathy said after 1Lt Barr's hard brake through her off the back seat onto the floor. She was obviously not yet awake yet, and Gavin could hear her stirring on the floor as she tried to swim through consciousness and realize where she was.

"<You idiot!>" Gavin Barr heard a Russian man swear in Russian. The FSO was stopped half on and half off the road with the headlights off, the interior lights off and the engine still running. After a couple of jogging steps, a yelling Russian infantryman was suddenly standing in the FISTV's open window at what Gavin could only assume he thought was a Soviet jeep.

<"Da"> Gavin said, and he quickly grabbed the Russian's web gear with his left hand and yanked him hard, toward the HMMWV's door rails and jambs.  Barr stomped the accelerator peddle, one hand on the wheel, one hand on the Russian, releasing him after it was clear the infantry man had lost his footing.

"Stay down Tabby," Gavin ordered, his second hand now back on the wheel.  He knew small arms fire would follow and she would be better protected in the floorboard.  Gavin's eyes struggled in the darkness to find the road and Barr fought the steering wheel to stay on it.

OOC: Ok, tried to get all the rolls I thought might be needed at once:
07:48, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 7 using 1d100. RCN. (Gav's Skill: 80 - Outstanding Success)
07:48, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 32 using 1d100. WVD. (Gav's Skill: 50)
07:46, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 50 using 1d100. BC. (Gav's Skill: 70)

Too late the Junior Sergeant realized his mistake. His eyes wide as saucers, the FSO dragged him like a British baddie in a movie made by some small-dicked nobody called Guy Ritchie.

Realizing that not even the Soviet Army are known for dragging their NCOs, about half the squad 1Lt Barr just tried to run over opened up with their fancy Kalashnikovs. Muzzle flashes were seen in two hundred seventy degrees as the FISTV sped away at a high rate of speed.

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 30):

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!" Pfc Abernathy screamed from the backseat as the rounds shattered the glass of the window by her feet. The roar of the powerful FISTV's diesel engine was punctuated by smaller 5.45mmB rounds that tore through the thin metal rear and side as the vehicle sped away into the night.

"Are you hit Tabby?" Gavin asked as he kept the HMMWV moving.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 16:31, Fri 18 Jan 2013.

"...no..." Pfc Abernathy said a bit later, shameful at her previous outburst when they were taking fire. She rotated onto her right shoulder, attempting to shake the broken shards of window off her BDU top onto the foot wells of the backseat of the FISTV.

Taking the 'sixty' slot slowly, Abernathy stood a bit dazed by what had just happened. The two American soldiers were quiet the rest of the ride. The previous ferocity of the Soviet artillery strike had waned, and the FSO officer took more time to take the route back after his last encounter with the Soviet infantry patrol.

On the north-south hardball road about 1.5km short of their destination 3-19FA, the FISTV was hailed by some American soldiers from 3-77 Amd, who had formed a roadblock. The Blazer ADA vehicle blocking the road flashed its headlights twice at the FISTV in rapid succession.

From the driver's seat, 1Lt Barr could also see that the M60A4 and the M113 covering the road were manned. There seemed to be a platoon of soldiers on either sid of the road who had formed hasty positons with sandbags, leading Gavin to believe the unit had not been there that long.

"Good," Gavin said in response to Abernathy's confirmation that she wasn't seriously injured.  His heart had been in his throat between when he asked the question and when she answered.  Barr was deluding himself to think that what he felt for her wasn't serious... that he hand't already fallen for Abernathy... that all they shared was casual sex... but war often demanded such self-delusion.  Like the delusion that he and Captain Rivers both wanted - more shells and a fighting chance for the men of 2-21st FA.

At the checkpoint, Barr flashed his lights twice in response, then held one hand out of the driver side window.  He opened the door and approached the checkpoint on foot, his rifle slung.

"Evening gentlemen.  I'm with second of the twenty first ef eh, looking for three nineteen."

As Barr moved closer, a figure stepped out and began walking towards him. A voice, more of a hoarse whisper than a yell echoed in the distance but the FSO managed to catch it.

"Here we go again, Decker's up this time, cover him any problems you know the signal"

"Good morning, sir" a black Specialist with a very white accent said when he closed to within 20m. "Please put your hands in the air. Thank you."

Barr complied, moving slowly and keeping his hands visible at all times

About twenty issue flashlights were on Gavin Barr as he awaited the fifth degree from this unit's roadblock. The effect was like being drunk at a very cheap disco: disorienting and in the end a waste of time. When Specialist Decker was close enough to see Gavin Bar was a First Lieutenant, he came to attention, saluted, and then went about his business without searching or disarming Barr.

"Does the First Lieutenant have some sort of ID, sir?" Spc Decker asked very politely. The whole scene reminded Barr of a routine traffic stop back in the US. It was a complete 180 from the Soviet foot patrol using his FISTV to improve their aim only a few minutes before.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:46, Sun 20 Jan 2013.

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 37):

"Oh for fu...come on" Pfc Abernathy said from behind the sixty. Her hands were on her head more out of boredom than any perceived threat as she leaned against the rear of the open turret ring. "Let's go."

"Yep," Barr said.  He slowly moved his hand to a top BDU pocked and fished out his ID.  His other hand remained on his head.  He held the ID out for the Specialist to review.  He thought very unflattering thoughts about the Cavalry branch, but kept them to himself as this idiocy played out.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 39):

"<b>Thank you, Sir</b>" Spc Decker said with a nod. He lowered the blue-lensed issue flashlight to his side, recognizing h1Lt Barr was who he said he was. "What brings you to see DivComm today, Sir?"

"World war three asshole, that is what brings me here," Gavin said, as if the question was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.  He took his ID back, having established that he was in fact a 1st LT while this fucktard was a E-4.

"Now unless you have some 155 rounds shoved up your ass with the stick that's already there, step aside, because I'm heading to 3-19.  And tell whoever is in charge here to start running some fucking patrols and establish an LP/OP out there," Gavin said, motioning off into the darkness from the direction he had just come from.

"Because if an ID check point is your idea of establishing control of your fucking AO, then you guys deserved to get smoked when Ivan rolls through here.  This is war Specialist Decker, not the drunk driver checkpoint you ran into after fingerbanging your skank girlfriend at your highschool prom."

With that, Gavin turned back toward the FISTv, intent on finding 3-19.

Pfc Abernathy laughed into her CVC from behind the sixty as Gavin Barr followed the already well-worn tracks around the M757 in the middle of the two-lane road north toward 3-19 FA.

"Babe, you should have seen that fucking Oreo cookie crumble" she laughed, slapping at the black plastic stock of the belt-fed weapon in front of her as the FISTV whipped through the hot early morning air. "I couldn't see his face, but I was sure after you chewed his ass the way he snapped to and saluted as you walked off, that he was going to cry."

After another five hundred meters on the northbound road, 1Lt Barr turned left. He knew he was close when the guns of three one nine went off, ripping the dark calm with 155mm muzzle flashes that created a very intense, very violent art of sorts.

To the south just the far side of 100m distant, more armored vehicles from 3-77, like the ones he and Abernathy just passed, were set up in a defensive position to the south. Their infantry pickets were set up to either side, and Gavin could see fires and the occasionally cherry from a cigarette glow red hot in the summer morning air.

Barr pulled up in the motor pool next to a very worn looking five ton. Underneath it, an Irishman in dirty coveralls was screaming, kicking, and swearing occasionally in time with the guns of 3-19.

"<Cannon fire>...fookin' air filter, fookin' Yanks and their fookin'....<cannon fire>.....why the fook I fookin'....<cannon fire>...I'll never fookin' know" the man yelled as 1Lt Bar closed the door on the FISTV.

"These guys are worried about infiltrators when the damn logistics failure is what's going to get us killed," Gavin said after the cleared the 3-77 checkpoint.

As they pulled up to 3-19th, Gavin listend to the Irishman for a few seconds, smiling while he did so.

"There's no pot o' gold under that 5 ton if that's what you are rilled up about." he said as he approached the vehicle.  He squatted down near one of the wheels to get a look at the man working under the truck.

"Wha...wha...who the FOOK....???" the Irish soldier swore as he wiggled out from under the truck, his dirty overalls picking up dirt as he wallowed in an effort to get out fast and kick someone's ass.

"Who the FOOK...I'll FOOKIN kill ya...you...?" the Irish maintenance man said, shining the light he had been using to work on the truck in Barr's face. Seeing the man was an officer, the Irish soldier changed his tone, although he was still clearly upset, which is strange, because the Irish were not know for their passionate nature.

"Sorry, sir" the man faltered, turning the engine light down. He saluted, but he had an oily rag in his right hand, and the 'salute' just got his face even dirtier; not an easy accomplishment considering the circumstances. "I....sorry."

"No need to apologize," Gavin said.  He held out his hand, "Andrew Gavin Barr," he said, hoping the Irishman would return the introduction.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 45):

"Suh!" said the greasy mechanic, lift and then stamping his foot. "Private Seamus Murphy, 19th King's Royal Hussars."

Murphy then saluted again, and this time the rag hit him in the eye. He looked at 1Lt Barr, who stared at him in the dark.

"Well, that's not exactly right, is it sir?" the Irishman asked, rubbing his eye. "I mean, I've been with this unit for only a month or so. I've been passed around so much, I don't really recall who I'm with. Sir."

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 46):

"Who is in charge here Private Murphy?  I'm looking to acquire some 155 rounds for 2-21st FA.  They are out of ammo and are as useless as tits on a boar right now."  Gavin said.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:15, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

The Irish are known all over the world for their ability to turn a phrase. Unlike the Poles, God gave them at least one gift to offset the alcoholism and rampant sexuality...or was it the fact that both countries were plagued by the scourge that is the Catholic church? In either even, Murphy smiled at the FSO's use of the spoken word.

"Ah, that would be Major Wilson, sir" Seamus Murphy said. "He's either down at the battery or the TOC...or his quarters. It is late you know, sir."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:15, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

Gavin grabbed a half full bottle of vodka from his truck.  "Have a pull with me Private.  It's not whisky, but like most of the local girls, it still goes down and gets the job done."  Gavin said as he took a quick sip.

"Uh, reckon I shouldn't sir" Murphy said, looking down as he rubbed his shaking hands nervously with the dirty rag. Like all Catholics, the first thing Murphy thought of was guilt, and seemed unsure if the FSO was trying to test him. "That Lieutenant with the lisp said he wanted this truck done before morning."

"I respect your dedication Private," Gavin said.  "I'll leave you a bit so you can have a well-earned drink when you are done.  Got a cup or something handy?  Maybe back here somewhere?" Gavin said, moving to the back of the truck and looking in the cargo bed with his flashlight.

[Private to Niewiele Dupek: Looking for good loot of course!  ;)]

"Aha, NO suh!" the Irish-born maintenance soldier said, taking the chance that 1Lt Barr was not trying to turn him in for D&D. He opened the door to the truck and fumbled around for ten seconds. When he came back into view, he had a well worn but still functioning silver metal thermos. "Ah, here 'tis!"

OOC:

ESY:SCR please

After checking the back, Gavin poured a bit of vodka.  Not enough to get the Private in trouble.  At least not an Irish or Russian Private.. ;)

[Private to Niewiele Dupek: No SCR skill, but figured I'd roll to see if I got a 1 or something weird.  Nope!  Rivers should have sent a real scrounger if he wanted shells.  lol

09:38, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 72 using 1d100. SCR. ]

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 53):

As was the custom all vehicles were emptied before going to maintenance, unless a tank was having a pack pulled in the field or a cargo truck full of howitzer shells broke down in the field. Hoping against hope, Gavin Barr checked the back of the cargo truck anyway. When the search came up a big goose egg, he poured Murphy a drink.

"Alright, let's see if we find Major Wilson," Gavin said after screwing the top back on the bottle.  He headed back to the FISTv to secure the vodka before moving out toward the TOC.

Even though they were not out of ammo like 2-21 FA, 3-19 FA fired nowhere near the volume of rounds that were coming into the TOC. As Private Murphy led 1Lt Barr to the tent serving as 'call center' for the regiment, it seemed as if there was more noise coming from the tent there was the gun line.

The guards at the tent flap recognized Murphy and saluted Barr. With the noise Gavin could barely hear the mechanic, but the fact that he wouldn't go in and motioned inside told him all he needed to know.

"Thanks," Gavin said to Murphy before he entered the TOC.

"I'm looking for Major Wilson," he announced as stepped inside.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 57):

Walking into the TOC filled Gavin Barr with mixed emotions. On the one hand, the flurry of activity of men at radios, runners, a large chalkboard, and an almost anthill-like movement reminded him of home in that it was a very familiar feeling.

On the other hand, he had become used to the freedom that an FSO enjoys, and so the homecoming was more like a college student returning to their childhood home: the memory of the place only reminded Barr how much had changed, and how much he had changed.

Looking at the far side of the '20 manner' tent, he could see a Major being pestered by a slwe of people from Privates acting as runners to Lieutenants from the gun line and everyone in between.

In the time it took 1Lt Barr to walk across the tent to the Major, he had already processed three 'visitors'. When Gavin closed to conversational range, he was signing some sort of requisition order on the pack of a Specialist who desperately needed a clipboard.

"No" Major Wilson said, not looking up from the paperwork as Barr moved close to him. He initialled in two places. "Two places, Pete?"

"Three sir" the Specialist said, still bent over.

"Three sir" the Major said absently, looking over both sides of the form in an effort to find the third block for his three initials.

"Major Wilson, excuse the interruption," Gavin said, stepping forward, unwilling to play second fiddle to an E-4 and paperwork.

"Major, Captain Rivers sent me here to see if you have any 155 rounds you can spare for second of the twenty first ef eh.  Two twenty one is out of rounds and the unit is currently combat ineffective."  Gavin said flatly.  The message should be disturbing enough for a fellow artillery officer - there was no need for hysterics.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:16, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

"I know, Gavin" the Major said. "That's why I said 'No' when you walked up."

"Thanks Pete" Major Wilson said as the Specialist stood up. The Major handed him back his pen and patted the enlisted man on the shoulder. The commander of 3-19 FA looked over at the FSO as a runner pushed passed to get at the Major. "You still here?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:16, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

"I'll be sure pass your response to the men of two twenty first, Sir," Gavin said, saluting, then turning on one heel and leaving the TOC.  He had always figured getting actual ammo to be a long shot, but with a few radio changes,  he could have easily dialed in to serve as an extra observer for 3-19.  But he wouldn't be doing that.  Not for this man.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:14, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 61):

"That's IT?" Major Wilson asked as the Master Fister turned to leave. "The great 'Gavin Barr' and his abilities to wheel and deal? Seems like your reputation is a little overinflated if you ask me."

In Gavin's mind, Major Wilson went from being just an asshole, to being the worst kind of tramp - the ones that said no, but meant yes.

It seemed clear however that Wilson wasn't entirely at ease with throwing the 2-21s under the bus however.  Maybe he was worried about how posterity would judge him.  Maybe he was worried about what his men would think.  Barr didn't care.  He saw an opening and took it.

"It's a bit late in the war for me to be worried about my reputation Sir." It was a classic Barr double entendre.

"At this point, I'd be happy to keep our boys alive till they can pull out in the morning.  You see, unlike 3-19, there's no armor surrounding 2-21.  Our infantry pickets were ordered to march into Kalisz an hour ago.  Hell, I drove through a Russian platoon of infantry moving north from Opatowek to get here.  I wouldn't be surprised if 2-21 isn't in heavy contact with that unit right now."

"I've got a lot of men, who look a lot like yours," Gavin looked around the TOC before continuing, "who have been left out on a flank with no firepower and no support.  You want to take care of your own and I won't begrudge you that.  But you're a klick away from DivHQ.  I'd say you have more than a fighting chance to get your men out of this charlie foxtrot.  Which is a hell of a lot more than 2-21st has at this point."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:14, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 63):

Major Wilson clapped very slowly in a mocking fashion as he walked toward the FSO. He clutched as his heart, feigning being in the grip of a powerful emotion while mouthing 'Bravo!' over and over again like the world was a stage and Gavin Barr was a famous thespian.

"That was...wow, some speech, Gav" the Major said coming abreast of the man from North Carolina, then passing him. "When you're done with your Oscar bid, walk with me. We have something to discuss."

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: "No Barr I said THES-bian!" :)]

Gavin fell in silently beside Wilson. He'd hear the man out and see if they could reach some agreement.

Outside the TOC, after the two guards saluted, Chris Wilson lit an expensive cigar that he had been working on earlier. He held out a new one for Gavin, as if he fully expected the FSO to take it from him.

Barr took the cigar, then pulled out his lighter and offered the Major a light.  Gavin was a greedy bastard, probably cut from a bit of the same cloth as Wilson.   He could let his ego get in the way, but that would prevent a deal that might get 2-21st up and running again.  Now that he had some face time with Wilson and they were past no, he'd see what could be done.

"Walk with me" Major Wilson said to 1Lt Barr as the two men went into the warm early morning air. The CO noticed an aide scurrying after him and shook him off with a wave of the hand his cigar was in. "Not now, Martin."

The scene was pretty surreal. The two officers walked and smoke cigars while all around them, men, machines and equipment moved in a quick tempo to provide accurate, if not random, artillery fire.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, man?" the Major asked rhetorically, knowing the FSO thought it was. "Other people always say they wanted to do this or that. Me, I always wanted to be a Cannon Cocker."

The two walked a little further, and the Major sat on a wall of sandbags that formed a corner of an emergency figthing positon that was currently unmanned.

"Remember that thing we did in the place we did with the people we did a couple weeks back when the division was moving south?" Wilson asked in code, his arms folded in front of him as another towed 155mm howitzer belched out a round. "You know, the thing we said we wouldn't talk about it? Well, it's become a problem."

Before the FSO had a chance to answer, Chris Wilson swore so fast and so violently that it would make a person with terrets proud. He took a long, hard drag on his cigar and looked at the First Lieutenant.

"How the fuck did I know she was an attorney before the war, that fucking whore" the Major said, puffing on his cigar angrily. "That Captain of yours is a good guy, Gav. Hell, the fact that he sent a scumbag like you tells me how desperate he really is over there."

Major Christopher Wilson stepped close enough to the FSO that Barr could smell the aftershave he wasn't wearing.

"They're going to take my command, Gav" Major Wilson said, real panic in his eyes and his voice. "You go to the place, make my problem go away, and you can have every blasted blasting cap I got."

"Jesus Chris, you say that like it's been the only time I've had hooker drama in Poland.  Hell, Tabby had to toss two girls out my vehicle just this morning." Gavin said.  He thought back, real hard, which was often difficult for folks from the Old North State, and tried to remember what Wilson was might be referring to.

[Private to GM: Gavin will try to figure out what Wilson is talking about.  So figure 5-10 minutes of hard thinking about various debaucheries and whatnot.  ;)]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:06, Fri 25 Jan 2013.

"That's right, your infamous 'Tabby Cat'" Chris Wilson said, smiling widely and puffing on his cigar as he remembered the 'little Firecracker' from North Cacalac. "I remember when you pulled that shit at Regiment just to have her reassigned to your section. Two turds from the same toilet bowl I remember thinking. You always did have a thing for nailing the help."

Major Wilson stepped away from 1Lt Barr and puffed a bit as he thought. When he turned back to Barr, he recognized the same look on Gavin's face that must be on his. He smiled. It was like looking in the mirror.

"Look man, when she filled out the paperwork with those CID nerds, she put in a different address than the town we found that idiot and her sister in when we were up north doing that site recon by the river" the Major explained.

"I did some checking" the CO went on to say. "It's her mother's address. Smart little bitch knew we'd be gunning for her and according to my translator Kit Carson-type new friend from the Polish Cav, it's right up the damn road from here maybe seven or eight kay."

"Small world, huh Gavin?" Major Wilson said with a grin, dropping the stub he was smoking as he crushed it under his booted toes.

"Fucking CID." Gavin said in agreement.  More than once they had been up his ass about his 'supply requests' for his team.

Gavin pulled out his map.  It was Gavin's ability to successfully use his map that separated him from the lower forms of life found on the battlefield - REMFs, combat arms primates in infantry and armor, along with shitbag officers in all branches.

"Stick around the TOC for the next few hours.  You'll want lots of people to see you there.  I'll call in an 'eyes on' fire mission at this location," Gavin pointed to Six White's location the map.  "FDC will record my call for fire in the log and 3-19 will deliver rounds on target.  There will be a few more 'eyes on' calls with FDC to prearrange on-call fires here, here, and here." Gavin said, pointing to locations around Six Blue.  "As far as anyone knows, you've had me out spotting and pre-arranging fires for 3-19 for the last few hours.  These are already on file at two two one's FDC.  But pissing away my time to go out and reconfirm them because you don't trust another FDC's log is exactly the level of dickishness everyone has come to expect from you; it shouldn't raise any eyebrows."

Barr's map was marked up with fire mission coordinates at those locations already.  Calling them in while being somewhere else would be easy.

"Have those rounds ready in a truck, trailer, or a fucking horse cart if that's what it takes.  I'll be back soon."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:52, Sat 26 Jan 2013.

"There's a smudge on your map, Lieutenant" Maj Wilson said, pointing to the town he had alluded to earlier. His eyes were buring with boundless possibilities as he intently gaved at the man that would deliver him from all his suffering. He scratched at the map, looking at Barr's face the whole time. "There, that's got it."

"You better get on the spotting mission then, Lieutenant" Wilson said standing but still hovering over the FSO. When Barr stood, Chris Wilson was almost nose to nose with him. It allowed him to speak in a whisper and still be heard. "Bring back that fucktard's necklace, huh old pal? You know, just so I know the deed was done."

The Major took a couple of steps forward, with his hands behind his back doing his best impression of a DC paper tiger general. In his mind, it probably made him look regal, although to Barr, it looked like somethinng else.

"You'll get your fire support when your mission is done, Lieutenant" the Major boomed in a loud voice for any passerby to hear. "The whole US Army is behind you."

With a snap to attention and a salute, the sickening display was almost over. The 3-19 FA CO put his hands back behind his back, and smiled like a certain mamaml that ate a certain dinosaur descendant.

OOC:

Updated map...yesterday, when I should have posted the fucking turn. Sorry, mate. If I screw the pooch again just tell me in a PM or even OOC to pull my head out. OK tough guy, I need an AVG:RCN, a route of march(can be just general directions...I don't want you to have a seizure trying to translate the directions), and ten push ups, and the three of those things can be in any order you see fit. :)

Gavin saluted and returned to the FISTv.

"Wakey-wakey, duty calls," Gavin said as he got into HMMWV.  He'd leave the driving to Tabby for this one.

"We need to head back through 3-77 lines, heading south.  Once we get back near Kalisz, we'll turn north east and head to this village.  There's an obstacle in that village that's keeping rounds from reaching the 2-21st." Gavin said, pointing toward their destination on the map.  It would strengthen Gav's alibi for the 3-77 checkpoint to see them heading south.

"This village shit is all off the books.  Officially, we're calling in coordinates for the 3-19.  Let me handle the radio till this is done.  If this goes pear shaped, you've been under orders not to reveal any of this - tell them I told you it was sensitive compartmented information and I ordered you not to discuss it with anyone."  Gavin would protect Abernathy; there was no need for her to go down if he fucked this up.  "You know I trust you Tabby and you know I'll need some conjugal visits if I end up in jail for this stupid black ops shit.  So if that means I don't tell you everything, it's for your own good... and eventually mine." Barr said with a wink, conveying the seriousness with a bit of levity.

OOC:

Speed 15 kph.  Ok, here is the route.

Nieznana droga
1. Kieruj się na wschód w stronę Trasa 25
300 m
2. Skręć w prawo w Trasa 25
3,3 km
3. Na rondzie drugi zjazd w Stawiszyńska
500 m
4. Ostro w lewo w Długa
1,6 km
5. Skręć w lewo
2,4 km
6. Skręć w prawo w kierunku Trasa 470
3,4 km
7. Skręć w lewo w Trasa 470
5,6 km
8. Ostro w lewo
450 m

Nieznana droga

They will stop about a kick out from the village, stopping in the woods.  Map updated, Gaby watching the sector to the North on the M60.

18:20, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 75 using 1d100. RCN (AVG).  Success for AVG

Once past the 3-77 checkpoint, Gav will swap out his M16 for one of the Russian rifles.

[Private to GM: He will also change out his BDUs into one of the Ukranian uniforms, including boots if he's got them, along with the leather magazine LCE.  His goal is to not look like a US soldier. ]

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 73):

The normally jovial Barr came back with a little black cloud over his head that even the most dimwitted of Tabby Cats could see. When Gavin offered only serious solutions to things he would normally joke about, Abernathy knew something was wrong.

"Babe, what is it?" Pfc Abernathy asked after clickling the start paddle over one nothc and waitng for the FISV's 'wait-to-start' light to go out, which meant the glow plugs were warm before moving the start paddle over to the right, cranking the Hummer's big diesel engine. "What's wrong?"

"I'm pretty sure my parents had another kid before me.  Must have given him up for adoption.  Turns out he's a jackass," Gavin said, referring obtusely to Wilson.  He sat silently for a minute and Tabitha could almost hear his mind grinding away against a problem.

"Bentham said that it is the greatest good to the greatest number of people which is the measure of right and wrong." Gavin said, remember a quote from one of his VMI philosophy classes.  Barr would readily admit that the mandatory philosophy class he had taken in college was an eye opener - a subject that he would have previously dismissed as liberal hippy shit.  But after taking the intro course, he'd become interested in the subject, and had even taken a follow on course.  Gavin was a rationalist at heart and studying philosophy informed his logical, utilitarian, and pragmatic approach to life without directly clashing with his values.

His mind drifted to all the 13 Foxtrots he had lost in the past year.  Janicki, Sloan, Blose, Davis - he was supposed to be leading a Fire Suport Team and yet he and Tabby were all that were left.  War had claimed so many.  What was one more if it meant he might save Rivers, Jackson, Rodriguez, Horton, and the others?

"Fuck, don't listen to me.  I'm Just tired.  No rest for the weary," Gavin said.  Or the wicked, he thought to himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:50, Mon 28 Jan 2013.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 75):

Abernathy put her slender booted toe on the Hummer's wide brake pedal to shift the FISTV out of park. She remembered the mud on the way in to the makeshift motor pool was a '4H' situation, so she took the time to shift the transfer case into four high, making all four wheels dig and claw at the ground.

She listened to Barr pontificate about right and wrong, which was way above her head. She did what she normally did when someone smarter than her was talking about something she didn't understand, which was often.

Tabitha Abernathy smiled.

"OK, babe" she said, smiling as she took them out of the 3-19 FA area. "Whatever you say."

OOC:

Roll ESY:RCN, then two AVG:RCN rolls please

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: OK, so Gav can write ;) Great post man]

The previous encounter with Russian infantry fresh in his mind, Gavin remained alert and ready for trouble.

OOC:
09:14, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 61 using 1d100. RCN (AVG). Success
09:14, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 24 using 1d100. RCN (Avg). Success
09:13, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 9 using 1d100. RCN (Esy). Outstanding success

[Private to GM: Thanks.  I didn't want the idea of just going out to murder someone to be easy.  But war is hell.]
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:26, Mon 28 Jan 2013.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 77):

On the way back south, Spc Decker ignored the FISTV as it made its way toward its destination. The 3-143 Inf co-located with the 3-77 Amd clearly had orders to check northbound traffic only. 1Lt Barr dropped down out of the turret ring and selected an AK-101 with a GP-30 GL mounted underneath it.

Gavin marveled at the quality of the craftsmanship, which was almost on par with the M16A2. The cool black plastic sent a different kind of chill through the FSO. Far from a one-to-one basis, the enemy was cranking out rifles of this quality in massive numbers, which did not bode well for the NATO forces in the area.

"Whatcha doin', babe?" Abernathy asked from the driver's seat. After the last time they were jumped by the enemy, any slight move or change in position alterted the First Lieutenant's driver.

OOC:

Sorry mate exactly when are you changing? After the 3-77 checkpoint or 1km out from the cel?

"We'd just as soon the Ukrainians' take the heat for this one.  So I'm going to borrow one of their uniforms and rifles.  It probably won't fool anyone up close, but might work at a distance," Gavin said.

"Our challenge will be Biscuits and the response Grits," Barr added.  Perhaps he was hungry.  Or just missing home.

As the FISTv turned to the north east and began to make it's way out of Kalisz to their target, Gavin opened his map keyed the radio.

"Steel Rain, Steel Rain, this Bushmaster Six.  I am at map grid 9729396... Gavin said as he began to call in coordinates for pre-arranged fires at 256 White.  His grid reference put him somewhere north west of Hammerhead, which wasn't anywhere close to where the FISTv actually was.

OOC: Steel Rain will be the 3-19th FDC's call sign.  Gav will change once they are on the 470 road heading out of town.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 79):

OOC:

Clothes, man. When are you changing your clothes. I want to know when Barr 'goes native'. Oh, and there is a rifle without the blooper on there. I just found a pic online and started describing what I saw. Gav's AK is chambered in 5.45mmB, not 5.556mmN if anyone is interested. ;)

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: Oh no! Gavin is a 'Carolina Dick Hound'? That's what it says on the descriptor on your last post!]

OOC Gav will change uniforms right about the time they pass Skarzew, on road 470.  If he'll take the rifle without the GL.  Zero dark thirty is not the time to learn to use a Russian GL.

[Private to GM: Opps.. clearly my translator fucked me.  So much for being cheeky in foreign languages.  ]

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 81):

OOC:

No ba!

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: Well if you want to be THAT kind of cheeky, you might attract the wrong kind of ass! ;)]

Anyone that complains about the rough ride of a FISTV over rough Polish country roads in the middle of the night should try changing into an enemy uniform in the back of one for some real perspective. Gavin Barr was on fire, the wool in the Ukrainian-made uniform at once went on the attack on his neck, making him itch like a Carolina coon hound with fleas.

His belt was too small, the uniform irritated his skin, and the mass-produced, poorly-made boots instantly hurt his feet. He felt like he looked, as Abernathy reinforced for him.

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 83):

"You look ridiculous, babe" Abernathy said, the smile replaced with a look of worry. "I don't understand. What's going on again? You look like my second kid's father when he got drunk at that Haloween party. Why do you have to dress like that?"

"Cossack sheep fuckers," Gavin said as he put on the uniform.  What is this, the Civil War? he thought to himself.  Didn't Ivan know that cotton was king?  Fortunes had been made in the South from God's perfect fiber and for good reason.  Sure, cotton was shitty insulation when it got wet, but it was summer right now.  These Ukrainians must not have a second set of uniforms for winter, Gavin surmised, much to his own dismay.

"Yeah, I feel ridiculous too," Gavin said, agreeing with Abernathy.  He would keep this outfit on only as long as he had to.  It would be coming off once Wilson's bullshit had been sorted out.

"Don't look for logic Tabby, it's the fucking Army.  We are sorting out one of Wilson's fuck ups.  Prick isn't going to transfer any ammo to 2-21st or fire a single round to help until we do.  You've got to admire the avaricious bastard," Gavin said.

"We've got to render unto Caesar on this one."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:49, Tue 29 Jan 2013.

"Yeah" Pfc Abernathy said in a condescending tone, "Hail Chester. What a dick!"

<quote 1LT Gavin Barr>


"Steel Rain, Steel Rain, this Bushmaster Six.  I am at map grid 9729396...

"Six, this is Steel rain, over" the TOC came back while Старший лейтенант Barr sat itchy and fussy in the back of the Wagon. "From actual...move to golf charlie niner seven fife, niner three six...how copy, over?"

Gavin struggled to get a grease pencil and write down the grid coordinate. He got the code, found the numbers in the third and sixth position. Ok, 56, that must be the woman's mother's address. Now, street...what was the street name?

"++Solid copy Steel Rain.  Bushmaster is moving toward new coordinates.  Can you ask Actual what his favorite bar in Chojnice was?  I took a few bottles before we stepped off, but I can't remember which is his favorite.  I owe him a drink for getting me out from under the treadheads, over.++"  Gavin responded.  He hoped the pretext was enough to get him the street name.

"Roger Bushmaster Six stand by" the comm man said back at the TOC. He sounded like a young soldier from somewhere in the American Midwest. It was possible looked right at the man when he was back at the 3-19 FA TOC.

A minute or two went by as Abernathy drove the FISTv over terrrible Polish roads that weren't tended to  before the nuclear war that happened in this part of the world over three years ago. The FISTv's big tires hugged the road, and Abernathy sacrificed speed for safety in the inky black summer morning.

"S-Six, Steel Rain, over" the same comm specialist came back sounding less confident. "I have a message from Steel Rain actual, over. Please advise when you are ready to copy, over."

Ducking under his poncho liner, with his red-lensed flashlight and his grease pencil at the ready,  Gavin prepared to copy the message.  He pulled the radio handset under the makeshift light barrier.

"++Bushmaster is ready for your traffic Steel Rain, over++"

"R-Roger Bushmaster S-Six, transmission from Actual is as follows" the kid on the TOC side said, now really sounding shaken. "Quit fucking around and get on with it...over"

"Jackass,", Gavin said as shoved the handset back into the cradle.

[Private to GM: I assumed that the location on the Google Map is the exact house.  If that's not the case, does Gav have any idea where he is going?  Or do I have to wonder up and down the street like fucking Hansel and Gretel look for house #56?]

OOC:

Was that for me of for Wilson mate? :)

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: it's a cultural difference I'm thinking even Gav would not be familiar with. The towns over here are so small, the street names aren't named. My street address is literally "Town I Live In" Street, I shit you not!

I just wanted to throw a little wrinkle in there. That is the house. You're clear up to the pulling over 1000m away with the RCN rolls, so go ahead and post once that Gav gets there and he says or does _____ to/with Tabby Cat.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:10, Mon 07 Mar 2016.

As the FISTv moved into position just outside of the village of Kamien, Gavin took a deep breath, while pulling and tugging at the uncomfortable uniform in an effort to make it more comfortable.

"Ok, stay here and keep watch.  I'll be back as soon as I can.  Keep the radio turned down and don't answer any calls unless it's me.  I'll have my hand radio, so if you have an emergency, give me a call and I'll come a running." Well, at least trotting, Gavin thought to himself considering the ill fitting boots.

[Private to GM: I had considered that the village might be so small that everything has only numbers, but figured I'd ask about streets.  Anyway, that was for Wilson of course... ;)]

"Hurry back, babe" Pfc Abernathy said to the FSO. "I don't like this at all."

OOC:

Gonna need a DIF:RCN, three AVG:RCNs, and a fairly clear direction, route-by-landmarks, and possibly a description of how Gavin moves, including as much detail as you wish. Basically, anything you think you can incluse so you won't get your face shot off.

ND

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: Really? Kinda disappointed it wasn't at me. ;) How's Mrs. FSO doing with her treatment?]

+++"Bushmaster Six, Alligator Six. We are in need of your services. How copy? Over."+++

Just before opening the door, Gavin heard the call from Alpha 1-40  He grabbed the hand set and replied.

"++"Alligator Six, this is Bushmaster Six.  Be advised - under orders from Money Shot Six Actual, Bushmaster has been unattached from Alligator.  You can take it up with him, but Money Shot is bingo ammo, so even if they wanted to help, they can't.  Bushmaster Six Actual, Out.++"

Barr waited two minutes, then transmitted again.

"++All stations, be advised, Bushmaster will be off net for the next 60 mikes for emergency radio maintenance.++"

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 96):

OOC:

A whole hour of 'radio maint'? That's not suspicious or anything!

ND

[Private to 1LT Gavin Barr: Get your ass to SA toute suite! This Finn is Finning KILLING me! Can they ALL be this fucking afraid of EVERY-FUCKING-THING??? How they ever beat the Soviets even a little bit I'll never know!]

Gavin moved toward town through the woods.  As he approached various clearings, he tried to stay low and move at a trot between any walls, bushes, or other areas offering cover or concealment.  He made note of any streetlights and tried to avoid illumination.  It was late and dark - he hoped that would help him.

OOC: Ok, here are the rolls.  I updated the map with 8 way points to illustrait the route.
08:13, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 78 using 1d100. RCN (AVG). Success
08:13, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 64 using 1d100. RCN Cat Failure Check. Not Cat.. just regular failure
08:13, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 90 using 1d100. RCN (AVG). failure - possible cat failure
08:13, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 45 using 1d100. RCN (AVG) . success
08:13, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 47 using 1d100. RCN (DIF). failure

OOC:

Fuckin' dice gods were angry at you mate :)

As the man from North Carolina moved on the outskirts of the village, he judged the best spot enter the town was a small house, with vined iron pipe trellises and a rusted out Warszawa pickup truck in the yard.  The bed of the truck held soil and a small herb garden.

As he considered the scene under the dim moonlight, Barr was jolted by the sound of a dog barking and running.  A dark shape moved from the house, rushing toward him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:51, Sun 03 Feb 2013.

Shit, Barr thought to himself.  He looked around for any kind of fence that he might hop.  Shooting a dog was bound to draw even more unwanted attention.

OOC: 20:16, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 50 using 1d100. RCN.

OOC: Looking at the map between waypoint #5 and #6, it's hard to make out any fences, but there are a few barns.  AGL check to make it into one before Cujo says hello.

Gavin dashed for the nearest barn and put his shoulder into the door.  He hoped to be inside and shut it behing him before the dog could snack on him.

OOC: 18:49, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 8 using 1d20. AGL check. Success , AGL is 13

OOC:

Damn! was going to have some sort of Caddyshack moment to lighten the mood on Gav's dark mission, but you're too fast for me.

"I'll get you next time, Gadget, next time!"

Probably all those years of 'extra-cirricular activity' that has made him so agile!

ND
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:12, Sat 30 July 2016.

Stuck inside the barn, Gavin considered his options.  He moved to the far side of the building, hoping to find another exit.

Barr herd a voice shout from the nearby house.

"Zamykany wy odurzony pies!!"

The Master Fister moved cautiously through the barn, as various scythes, pitch forks, and other sharp, slightly rusty implements could be found in abundance.  On the other side of the barn, a large door, through which you could drive a car or wagon, was barred closed with a long 2x4.

OOC: AVG RCN check if you want to try to unBarr the door and slip outside unnoticed.  ;)
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 14:48, Wed 06 Feb 2013.

Gavin tried to slip out the back, but his attempts to be stealthy were thwarted.

OOC: Damn this die roller!  ARGH!!

15:48, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 40 using 1d100. RCN failure.
15:48, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 99 using 1d100. RCN (AVG).

Gavin dropped the bar, which hit a few rakes, which hit a few buckets.  It was as if a Rube Goldberg machine had been setup in the barn, with the sole purpose of making as much noise as possible.

"KTO JEST TAM?" issued out from the nearby house.  After a minute, the barn door Gavin had come through started to creak. Barr could see a shotgun barrel coming through the opening, it's owner not far behind.

OOC: Actions?

Gavin wasn't taking any chances.  Close range with a shotgun?  He had to act.

He pulled the AK-74 for up and fired.  Automatic weapons fire filled the building.  In the dark, unfamiliar barn, he missed.

OOC:

19:21, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 52 using 1d100. CRM.
19:19, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 73 using 1d100. CRM.
19:19, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 61 using 1d100. CRM.

10-shot magazines, 7 shots left.

The villager stumbled backward as 5.45 rounds splintered the woods and tin around him.  But not before he brought up the shotgun and fired off one barrel.  Buckshot destroyed a water trough 2 meters from Gavin.

OOC:
21:15, Today: Polish Farmer rolled 62 using 1d100. CRM.

Gav backed up to the door he had tried to open and tried to push it with one hand.  The other kept the AK pointed at the side entrance where the farmer had been.

OOC: Ok, assuming the farmer stumbled back out of the barn, and the 2x4 that was blocking the big door is on the ground, is there anyway to open the big door and just run to the other side of the building from the house?  I'd just as soon not kill some stupid farmer. 

Gavin pushed open the barn door and made his way around to the far side of the barn.  The dog was gone, scared off by the sound of weapons fire.  The villager with the shogtun was in full flight, running back to his house as fast as his short legs would carry him.  A few lanterns were being lit in nearby buildings.  Other villagers were content to look out of their darkened houses to see what was opening.  The exchange of gunfire had clearly been noted.

OOC: Actions?

Gavin worked his way back to the HMMWV.  This mission was fuct, from top to bottom.  He was done with it and now it was time to save his own ass.  He kept low and moved from cover to cover at a trot.

08:28, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 33 using 1d100. RCN.

OOC: 3 more RCN rolls please, one per waypoint.  I'll let you know what happens.

Gavin snuck away from the village, cursing the day he met Wilson.  That fucker can take care of his own problems, Gavin thought to himself.

OOC:
22:01, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 75 using 1d100. RCN #3.
22:01, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 12 using 1d100. RCN #2.
22:01, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 33 using 1d100. RCN #1.

All make AVG.  1 and 2 make DIF, but three fails if the task is DIF

Barr made it back to the FISTv.

"I hope you've finished whatever it is you needed that clown suit for.  On the hot or not scale, it's definitely a not." Tabitha Abernathy noted.

"Yeah, I'm done with it." Barr said, stripping out of the uniform and leaving it on the ground.  He looked for his fatigues, but then figured what the hell.  The radio was still off for another 20 minutes still.  He climbed in the back seat.

"Come hither Tabby," Gavin said, motioning his hooked finger repeatedly toward him.

Shagon Wagon was well named and for the next twenty minutes, Tabitha and Gavin tested the FISTv's coil springs and shock absorbers.

"We need to get some more pillows baby.  I've got something I want to try next time," Tabitha said, as she put her fatigues back on.

In reply to Pfc Tabitha Abernathy (msg # 118):

OOC:

Sorry guys. Just working through some stuff here. Deep breath...ok go. :)

ND

Gavin stroked his mustache, then gave Tabby a wink.

"As we've just established, Tabby gets what Tabby wants." Barr said with a sly grin.

He reached up to the front seat and grabbed his fatigues, putting them back on as well.

"Guess it's time to turn this thing back on as well." Gavin reached up and turned on the vehicle radio as well.  He should call in and let them know he was back on the net, but without artillery support, there was really no rush.  Barr took a deep breath, wondering if he had made the right decision in abandoning Wilson's grisly mission.

"There's no need to be shy about what you want.  A certain artillery Lieutenant taught me that," Tabby said.

After Tabby had shimmed into her fatigue pants and put on her BDU blouse, socks, and boots, she stood up in the ring mount to secure the M-60 for travel.

He wasn't from around here.  He wasn't even from the Ukraine.  Fuck it, you know the rest...

A single shot went out from 90 meters.  It struck Tabitha Abernathy from the right side, penetrating her helmet.  Blood poured down her face and the FISTv driver collapsed, falling back down into the HMMWV.

OOC:  RCN check and action from Gavin to determine where where the shot had come from and engage the enemy.
This message was last updated by the player at 16:13, Fri 15 Feb 2013.

"NO!" Gavin grunted as Tabby slumped down into the vehicle.  He pulled her down into a floorboard to give her some type of protection and shielding her with his body.  He did a quick medical assessment, but didn't have a lot of experience dealing with head trauma.

Looking out of the vehicle, he tried to tell where the shot had some from.

ooc: Damn die roller!
15:28, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 64 using 1d100. MED check.
15:17, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 83 using 1d100. Failure. Cat failure</red.
15:17, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 90 using 1d100. RCN: AVG. <red> possible cat failure

The sniper fired again, but this shot was against an occupied vehicle.  The round hit the hood of the FISTv, entering the engine compartment.

Gav was disoriented, and a second shot rang out before he could get his bearings and try to locate the sniper again.

OOC: Ok, another RCN check, or other actions.  You lost a round trying to find the Russian based on the cat failure.

Gavin looked for the sniper once more, grabbing his rifle and shoving the barrel out of the glassess HMWMV door window.  He looked for the sniper, ready to pull the trigger on either the GL or the M16.

OOC:
18:53, Today: 1LT Gavin Barr rolled 67 using 1d100. RCN.

Gavin spotted a muzzle flash almost 100 meters out to the east.  The pop of a bullet round passing close could be heard in the HMMWV.

OOC:  10:42, Today: Russian Sniper rolled 78 using 1d100. CRM.

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 125):

OOC:

Hey man does the FISTv engine still work, or do I not know that at this point?

In reply to 1LT Gavin Barr (msg # 127):

OOC:  Not known at this point.  Are you going to try a hit and run?  :P

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 128):

1Lt Barr got himself into a position where he was close enough to reach the Hummer's starter switch and still try to keep low enough to use the vehicle's lower structure for sort sort of cover and/or concealment.

OOC:

If the glow light comes on, he'll try to start it. If it starts it, he will immediately floor it and get the fuck out of there while he still can. If it doesn't start when the WTS lamp goes on, does he have a smoke grenade close enough to grab from his current position?

The engine starts up and Gavin stomps the pedal with his boot.  The FISTv roared away from the clearing, heading for the Polish roadway.

OOC: Direction, speed, destination?

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 130):

1Lt Gavin Barr felt hot tears stream down his face as he felt the life force pass from Tabitha's body through the materium back to...back to wherever it came from.

"...Taby Cat..." was all he could mutter as her lifeless form flopped around due to the violent, jerky movements of the FISTv as he tried desperately not to join her wherever she was.

Gavin had tried to look at her as just a fuck, just in case something like this ever happened. The fact was, he had grown accustomed to the low education and high appetite to please that had become the Pfc's halmark traits.

Yeah, they did some pretty crazy things together, but Tabitha was his friend, his mother, his partner in crime, and the one thing Gav felt as he tried to find I-470 was utterly alone.

OOC:

Most tactically expedient to 470, then to Kalisz. Speed is 'I don't want to fucking die' at first, and the driving style settles down to just 'way too fast' on the hardball road.

[Private to GM: It's funny. I think your secret squirrel friends at Google hand out fucked up translations on purpose just to make you look bad, although I do appreciate the effort to 'keep it ethnic' :)]

Barr made it to 470 without incident.  Heading south-west toward Kalisz, he struggled to keep the HMMWV on the pothole marked Polish roadway.

OOC: Ok, RCN:AVG and WVD:DIF checks please!
This message was last updated by the GM at 23:08, Wed 20 Feb 2013.

In reply to Niewiele Dupek (msg # 132):

23:02, Today: Niewiele Dupek, on behalf of 1LT Gavin Barr, rolled 4 using 1d100. AVG:RCN.
23:01, Today: Niewiele Dupek, on behalf of 1LT Gavin Barr, rolled 22 using 1d100. DIF:WVD.