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[IC] Godlike: 8 August 1942

PolloDiabloPolloDiablo Registered User regular
edited June 2009 in Critical Failures
6 August 1942

You’re in the mess of the transport ship McCawley, crammed in with the majority of the 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines. The din is deafening; Marines chat loudly about the upcoming attack. It reeks of sweat and the greasy food you’ve been stomaching for the past week. At the call of “Attention on deck!” all conversation stops and everyone turns to the fore, where a map stand has been set up. Lieutenant Colonel McKelvy, the Battalion Commander, stands in front of the map. On it is a large view of a group of islands, one you’ve studied in great detail before.

guadalcanal_1942.jpg

He clears his throat. “All right, Marines, listen up. As you know, we are a day away from the invasion of Guadalcanal. This invasion comes eight months to the day from when the Japs hit us at Pearl. I won’t lie to you boys, it hasn’t been a pretty eight months. They’ve been hitting us all across this ocean, and with no small degree of success. Some people consider their Army invincible. We’re here to prove that that’s bullshit. The only thing they had that we didn’t was guts. It falls to us Marines to prove that we’ve more than made up that deficiency. We’re going to take the offensive in this war, and our first chance to kick the Nips in the teeth comes here. Guadalcanal. The Japs are setting up an airfield here, and if they get it running it will mean no end of trouble for our boys in the Navy. If we can take it, we can stall their whole offensive in the area, maybe take some of the pressure off the Australians.

“You know the plan, but I’m going to go over it one last time, because we can’t afford any fuckups. This operation consists of two task groups, X-Ray and Yoke. Task Group Yoke, made up of our Raiders and Parachutists, will attack these islands across the channel,” he points to the northern group of islands, “in order to guard us against possible artillery sites.

“Task Group X-Ray, which is most of the 1st Division, is tasked with seizing Guadalcanal itself, specifically this airfield on Lunga Point," he taps the map. "The task group is divided into three combat elements. The 5th Marines form Combat Group Able. They’ll storm the beach, then form a perimeter for us to come ashore. The 1st is Combat Group Baker. We’ve got Group Charlie as a floating reserve if we need them. Once Able has the beach, we’ll land and move through them. Our objective for D-Day is this grassy knoll,” He points at a raised area south of the airfield. “It’s got a commanding view of the airfield, and we need to clear it of Japs if our attack on the field itself is going to succeed. We estimate that it’s a few miles south of Beach Red, our landing zone. We should reach it by midday. Once we’ve taken that hill, we’ll move on to take the airfield. From there we’ll move on to clear the rest of the island.

“Our Talent groups will be of especial importance in this early phase of the battle. It will be their responsibility to find the Japs before the Japs find us. You men can take comfort in the fact that we’ve got far more of the Talents on our side than the enemy has. Talent teams are spread throughout the landing forces. Those boys back there,” he points at your group near the rear of the hall, “are Group 11, and they’re currently assigned to our Battalion. If you see a Jap do something weird, report it to them. They’ll pass the word along, and work to neutralize that enemy Talent.”

“Intelligence estimates that there are 5,000 of the bastards on Guadalcanal. Be prepared for tough fighting, but be assured, our air and naval power will see us through this. We’ve got the entire country behind this push. With enough grit, we’ll hit the Japs where it hurts. Boys, we’re done playing on the defensive. Now’s our chance to turn the whole tide of this war. Landing is at 0700 tomorrow.

“Dismissed.” With that, the Lt. Col. turns and leaves the Mess. The other Marines start talking again, and filtering from the hall, their tension easily visible.

It’s a little after noon, and the mess staff is starting to prepare lunch. It’s stifling in the ship, although on deck the sea breeze helps alleviate the heat. You’ve got the rest of the day to yourselves. You’re the only Talent squad on the ship, which is currently carrying the 3rd Battalion on their way to Guadalcanal as part of a much larger convoy.

PolloDiablo on
Be excellent to each other you stupid cunts.
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Posts

  • MaticoreMaticore Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    John chugs a cup of coffee and lets out a sigh of pleasure.

    "This here's the best job I ever had" he says. "They just give you all this food!"

    He's going to sit here in the mess and wait for lunch unless a better opportunity presents itself.

  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Than heads above to smoke a cigarette (doubtless with several other, much taller Marines) before chow time.

  • The EverymanThe Everyman Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    As John lowers his cup, the seat that had been previously empty across the table was suddenly occupied by Jake Cohen. "Yeah! An' all they ask ya to do for it is to go an' risk life an' limb!" he replied in an overly sarcastic tone. "The food is shit anyhow."

    Reaching within his front pocket, Jake retrieved a Lucky Strike cigarette and slips it behind his ear with one hand and patting the pack against his chest appreciatively with the other. He had nine more packs left in the carton back in his locker, and three more cartons besides that. The government and Section Two constantly ensured that Jake had plenty of smokes, something he couldn't complain about. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but without a cigarette, Jake just didn't feel whole, didn't feel right.

    Garber, the Touchstone & Philo, the Hoarder / Apocalypse World - The Fleet
  • MaticoreMaticore Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    John laughs, "Hah! Guess if your previous job didn't risk life and limb then this is worse, but at least here ain't no coal dust in your food."

  • GoumindongGoumindong Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Eh, I don't seem to mind Jake, better an that gook food the legion gave us in Nam. Seems right to be having good ol' American food for once" Willy piped up. He found that he had to talk a lot more these days, otherwise he just seemed to fit with the surroundings*.


    *when not taking other actions Willy, is well, unable to not roll a 2 to 5d stealth roll and take all successes

  • The EverymanThe Everyman Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Jacob had been about to comment on never once having to worry about coal dust on his food (much less anywhere else) when the voice seemed to cropped up. Though confident that he was the only teleporter on the ship, Jake Cohen was none the less surprised at the suddenness he noticed Willy.

    "Good? Nah. Old? Probably. American? Definitely. Food? That's debatable," he smirked. Jake seem to be an impatient kid, and kept throwing sideways glances at the kitchen while flipping a fork end over end between his fingers with a startling adroitness.

    Garber, the Touchstone & Philo, the Hoarder / Apocalypse World - The Fleet
  • PolloDiabloPolloDiablo Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    The bell rings, calling the Marines to lunch. There's a crush of bodies as they all scramble to get to the food first.

    Marines crowd into every open space, including the open seats at your table. A tall man with sandy blonde hair sits down next to John. He inspects each of your faces for a moment. "You're the Talents, right? Name's Greene. You pulled T-Boat 141, right? You'll be riding with my guys, 2nd Platoon, King Company. I haven't met a Talent before. Say, can any of you fellas fly?"

    Leaning on the rail next to Than, a tall, thickly muscled Marine bums a light. "Not hungry? I know how you feel." He goes back to staring out to sea.

    A squadron of planes flies overhead, heading north.

    Be excellent to each other you stupid cunts.
  • The EverymanThe Everyman Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    With a few snaps, Jake was up, got his food, and was back at the table eating before most men got in line. Despite his complaints, the Southern Californian began to eat earnestly.

    "Fly? Fly... fly..." Cohen wracked his brains. "Nope, don't think so," the kid grinned. "Got somethin' better than flyin' though. Oh -- the name's Jake, Cohen," he said, extending his hand.

    Garber, the Touchstone & Philo, the Hoarder / Apocalypse World - The Fleet
  • SpawnbrokerSpawnbroker Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Dan leans over the edge of the railing on the deck, and...

    "HOUAAAAALGHGLGHL!"

    3DS: 5043-2471-1061
    Battle.net: Spawnbroker#1471
    Nintendo Network ID: Spawnbroker
  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    Catherine gives Greene her best, angelic dimpled smile.
    "No. No flying. And I have to wear these dreadful regulation clothes. I miss my dress"
    Spoiler:

  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Michael pushes away his food and moves to his bunk to get some shuteye. Normally garrulous, the big Canadian was unused to the sea. Eating, talking, sitting up, and breathing all seem like more trouble than they're worth right now.

    Pity I can't do without the last one, he thinks, and rolls over to face the wall.

  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    "Well, I'm going to go bum a smoke from than."
    Catherine saunters away from the marine and up on deck. She trots over to Than.
    "Hey Than. Give me a smoke... Wow. Look at Dan feeding the fishes. HEY ! DAN ! DON'T FALL OVERBOARD !"

  • CheeselikerCheeseliker Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Lem leans against the railing, eyes closed, whispering to himself. "God grant me peace and the strength to aid my comrades." He kissed the silver cross on his neck and gazed out at the sea.

    He could hear the idle chitchat of marines who would rather talk about anything then think about what lay ahead. Boasts to hide fear, jokes to make them laugh, talk of home to bring back good memories. It was good. Who knew the next time they'd be able to brag, or laugh or remember?

    Well, no reason to be anti-social, he might as well grab a smoke with a few of his comrades, he figured, glancing at Than, Cath, and Dan. Lem pulled a pack out of his pocket, knocking it against his hand a few times before pulling one out and lighting it. He didn't smoke often but it'd been one vice he just couldn't quit, especially not around hundreds of marines who did the same thing. He puffed out smoke and nodded to his companions.

    "May God grant us victory."

    cheeseliker.png
  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Than reaches up and lights the cigarette for the Marine standing next to him. "Mostly, I'm just trying to avoid the line, let everyone else eat before I do. I can go quite awhile without food and be fine. I'm sure Sun Tzu would have something to say about not eating before a big campaign. If he were alive, anyhow; though, based on certain changes at points in the style of the person doing the writing, I think he may not have written that whole book. Doesn't really come through in the translation." Than hands a cigarette and his lighter to Catherine, as he digs through his pack and pulls out some dried ginger root. "Hey, Dan, Sarge is gonna be pissed at you if we land and you can't walk. He'll probably do that thing where he yells at you, and makes you cluck like a chicken. As funny as that is, you should probably eat some of this. I swear, you round-eyes stole this shit from us centuries ago, and yet still don't carry it on your boats." He then retrieves his lighter from Catherine. "Ca va, Catherine?"

  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    "Ha! Bien sûr!"
    Catherine smiles at him.
    "Those Japs won't know what hit them."

  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Michael stared at the wall of the ship, trying to sleep. A bead of condensation rolled slowly down the pitted and hastily-painted metal. Michael followed it with his eyes as it careened down the wall, growing larger and larger as it plowed through the drops in its path.

    Sleep eluded him.

    He counted to one hundred, timing his breaths to the groaning of the boat.

    Sleep continued to elude him.

    Well, fuck this.

    McConnell levered himself upright and stomped up the ladder to the deck. Locating his squad, he walked over to them.

    "Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. How are we all doing today?" The slightest trace of his childhood home in Kerry remained on his tongue.

  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    Catherine claps her hands gleefully.
    "Oh we are doing just fine Mister Sergeant McConnell Sir ! It's a beautiful day to be out on the sea. Dan on the other hand..."

  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Than offers Michael a cigarette. "Not much, Sarge. Still alive; can't complain. Ready to kick some nip ass. 'Cept for the gyrene over there." Than gestures at Dan. "I think he just wants his mommy."

  • SpawnbrokerSpawnbroker Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Ugh, I hate boats. What the hell did I do to get stuck in the middle of the Pacific?"

    Dan grudgingly accepts the ginger root from Than and begins nibbling on it. "Thanks, Than, I've never been good on the water."

    Dan begins flipping through the book he is currently carrying, an old copy of War and Peace, mumbling to himself while chewing the root. After a few seconds, he continues the conversation, perfectly content to read and chat at the same time.

    "So when do we get back on dry land? And Than, didn't you mention you had a book for me? I haven't read anything new in ages."

    3DS: 5043-2471-1061
    Battle.net: Spawnbroker#1471
    Nintendo Network ID: Spawnbroker
  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Michael nods his thanks to Than and lights the cigarette. "Good to hear, good to hear."

    He looks past Than and Catherine at Dan. "Shape up, Rutherford! Stare at the horizon and take deep, slow breaths."

    Michael's broad grin takes the sting out of the words.
    Spoiler:

  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Yeah, as soon as I finish writing it. It's a collection of Burmese folk tales; I don't think they've ever been published in English before. It's hard to find anything you haven't read, Dan." Than grins. "It might help if you'd get your nose out of your book at least for the briefing. We land at oh-seven-hundred."

  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    "Hey Meechel, do we have some sort of plan or do we go with the usual "Flush them out with the bleu monkey""

  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Michael laughs. "Catherine, if I knew that, then I'd be an officer -- and I don't want to be an officer. We'll land where the Pips tell us to land, and proceed to un-fuck-up whatever problem they've gotten the regular boys into. Jimmy'll get his turn, to be sure, but we'll have to be tactically flexible."

  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Is 'tactically flexible' brass-talk for 'fake it 'til you make it,' Sarge?"

  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Pretty much. We try not to get ourselves killed while we chase whatever goose the higher-ups want caught."

  • MaticoreMaticore Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    John turns to the man beside him, eating slowly and purposefully.

    "Greene? Right? Well, I'm Henry, John Henry. Might've heard of me. Might've not. Depends on where you're from. We ain't got nobody who can fly, but I think we got everything in between if you know what I mean. It's simple I guess, you just let us know if you need help and we'll be there in no time."

  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    "The lieutnant-colonel said something about finding japs... Should I point towards the island and say "That way"?"

  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "With the way the war's been going so far, you just need to point east. I have a feeling that's about to change, though."

  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Pretty soon we'll be up to our eyebrows in the little bastards, and it won't matter which way you point."

  • ThanatosThanatos Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "More like up to your knees. Well, your guys' knees, anyhow. I don't think they're going to hit eyebrow-level unless they're three-stacked on each others' shoulders."

  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Don't forget, Than, they hold the high ground. For now. We'll sort that out soon enough, but at the moment they're at least eyebrow high."

  • WhiteZinfandelWhiteZinfandel Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Jimmy saunters over to the group, in human form, just catching the last bit of conversation.

    "Now that'd be a sight, Than. Personally, it doesn't seem to matter much how high they come up so long as I can get elbow deep in them. See some real action."

    He flexes his rather unremarkable arms in parody of the rippling mass he is to assume during combat. As he does so, he tries to imagine what the real thing will be like.

    Spoiler:
  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    "See ? Flush them out with the monkey it is."

  • The EverymanThe Everyman Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Jake Cohen drops his spoon onto the dirty tray in front of him, and rubs his belly ruefully. "Uugh..." he groaned. "That hit the spot, and then some."

    The kid's attention flickered between Greene and Henry, and with an air of impatience, Jake got to his feet and snapped his fingers. There was a loud pop in the mess hall as he disappeared, and a split-second later, he was up on deck.

    Cohen glanced at the young girl. "Wait, we're letting him have all the fun now?" he smirked.

    Garber, the Touchstone & Philo, the Hoarder / Apocalypse World - The Fleet
  • HermenegildeHermenegilde Registered User
    edited April 2009
    "Haven't you ever hunted fowl ? Or boar ?" Catherine said slyly.

  • GoumindongGoumindong Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    GrimmyTOA wrote: »
    "Don't forget, Than, they hold the high ground. For now. We'll sort that out soon enough, but at the moment they're at least eyebrow high."

    "If they're eyebrow high on Henry, we're gonna have some real problems" remarked Willy, having finished eating and sauntering on deck.

  • CheeselikerCheeseliker Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Lem watched his comrades banter back and forth. A lively humorous group.

    "Doesn't really matter how tall they are, seeing as there's no height requirement to use a gun." Lem spoke out seriously. He took another drag from his cigarette. "And a bullet's a bullet, no matter how strong or big ya are." He realized he may have dampened the mood a bit but oh well, he couldn't help being serious most of the time.

    The world was a serious place.

    cheeseliker.png
  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    McConnell catches Lem's gaze and flicks his eyes away from the group. Drawing the other man aside, he speaks in a low voice.

    Lem:
    Spoiler:

  • SpawnbrokerSpawnbroker Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    "Than, you know just as well as I do that I concentrate perfectly fine while reading."

    Dan turns the page.

    "Might as well do something constructive while I have to listen to mission parameters that don't really concern me. I'm not a soldier, I just do what I'm told. Which, if you haven't noticed, involves me going to a certain spot and reading until they tell me to stop. I can't even operate a gun."

    3DS: 5043-2471-1061
    Battle.net: Spawnbroker#1471
    Nintendo Network ID: Spawnbroker
  • JacquesCousteauJacquesCousteau Registered User regular
    edited April 2009
    Tuner comes out from the galley with his bolt-action and a stool. He is humming Oh My Darling, Clementine as he begins to disassemble the rifle but is otherwise silent. His hands move deftly over the thing as he goes about the job, spotting grease here and there in the action and checking its smoothness. Until he sights it, the thing looks clumsy in the hands of the skinnny farmboy, but the wooden stock seems to fit eerily against his shoulder.

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