Post by Naga Warasaki on Dec 2, 2007 22:59:08 GMT
A sudden gust of wind swept inside the barracks, bringing in dead leaves from the winter cold. There, in the door, stood a shadowed figure, crouched and indiscernible from the light. As it stepped closer, hungry for the warmth, it became apparent that the silhouette was that of a young man wearied from his travel.
“Is this the 205 Infanterie Platoon?” he coughed the words out in broken German, but after a second passed by none of the men gave him a reply, for they’re probably still too shock to find this foreigner.
The soldier coughed once more but this time flushed with more energy tossed his duffle bag to the ground and executed a clean-cut salute.
“Lieutenant Kempster. My name is Naga Warasaki. I’m reporting for duty. Sir.”
“Is this the 205 Infanterie Platoon?” he coughed the words out in broken German, but after a second passed by none of the men gave him a reply, for they’re probably still too shock to find this foreigner.
The soldier coughed once more but this time flushed with more energy tossed his duffle bag to the ground and executed a clean-cut salute.
“Lieutenant Kempster. My name is Naga Warasaki. I’m reporting for duty. Sir.”
