Post by MSG. Steven J. McMillan on Sept 25, 2008 14:57:20 GMT
OOC: Open to anyone.
“Go, Go, Go, Go!” the husk voice of Master Sergeant McMillan throttled out through the midst of warm air; It was peculiarly a hot day for the middle of April, but the men were making the most of it and Master Sergeant McMillan was set the task of running a thirty-man platoon through their tracks on the training field. A couple of lieutenants had pulled it together the night before, it was more of a wager amongst the big headed officers above, on how many men would reach the finish line - no doubt the betting went deeper than just the two lieutenants who pulled the training together, the whole barracks most likely had a penny in the kitty. Steven couldn’t blame them, the barracks was boring as hell and this little scenario of running the men through their paces, was good fitness; Shame he couldn’t entice a few of the COs into the frame -- as they sat pot bellied in a couple of deck chairs, sipping their morning coffee, watching the training yard commence into life.
Grabbing at a young private, Master Sergeant McMillan pushed him forwards against the first hurdle; A large ten foot wall, with no ropes. “You, You and You” he said quickly, pointing to three random men who just happened to be the closer ones. “Get against the wall! Do three lifts each, then tag the next person in line to do three lifts!” he barked out, the three privates nodding as they quickly dropped their backs against the wooden blockade, cupping their hands out for the muddy boots to be placed in. Steven paced about, as he allowed a majority of the men to get over the wall, before he approached one of the lifters to haul himself over - about to drop down, he called down to the remaining soldiers “You lot, get on the wall and help the rest over! Otherwise we’ll be leaving a few men behind” he said hastily, before dropping down into the mud with a splatter.
Pacing across the small stretch of field towards the column of men attempting to cross three beams of balancing logs, slackened with grease for effectiveness, he watched as a few slipped off, hitting the dirt hard. “Make way!” he shouted, pushing through the clogged up crowd, waiting for their turn - they had to move faster than this! “Look! You cross the beam like this” he yelled out impatiently, as he stepped up onto the log, momentarily adjusting his feet to get used to the feel of straining his legs against the wooden beam. Taking a couple of steps forwards, he swung his rifle from off his shoulder and held it out in front of him, using it to counter balance his bodyweight from one wobble to the next. A meter from the end, he lowered the rifle and hastily stepped across the last few steps, before dropping down at the other end, turning back to yell at the gawping recruits. “C’MON! Move!” - with that, at least three men bunched up together attempted to cross the logs each, moving across quickly.
Shaking his head, he turned towards the next platform, only several men sat waiting at it from a successful cross at the balancing logs. “Alright, let’s get moving!” he chanted out to them, as he threw himself against the ropes of a monkey-net, climbing his way up quickly, whilst the other soldiers followed suit. Why they’d stopped to wait for him, made him wonder, but during battle, that wasn’t such a bad thing. He wouldn’t exactly want anyone rushing into the enemy’s line of fire without knowing what to do. Reaching the top, he hooked his leg onto the iron bar and pulled himself over onto the other side. Grappling at the ropes, he made quick work in climbing down the opposite net to jump against the ground heavily. Swinging his arm up towards the following recruits, he took a moment to catch his breath and faced the next obstacle; A random assortment of empty vehicles to climb over. It was unique, but subliminally, it made the men aware of how to climb upon an assortment of vehicles out in the field - who knows, one day one of them might have to baton the enemy hatch with a grenade!
“Go, Go, Go, Go!” the husk voice of Master Sergeant McMillan throttled out through the midst of warm air; It was peculiarly a hot day for the middle of April, but the men were making the most of it and Master Sergeant McMillan was set the task of running a thirty-man platoon through their tracks on the training field. A couple of lieutenants had pulled it together the night before, it was more of a wager amongst the big headed officers above, on how many men would reach the finish line - no doubt the betting went deeper than just the two lieutenants who pulled the training together, the whole barracks most likely had a penny in the kitty. Steven couldn’t blame them, the barracks was boring as hell and this little scenario of running the men through their paces, was good fitness; Shame he couldn’t entice a few of the COs into the frame -- as they sat pot bellied in a couple of deck chairs, sipping their morning coffee, watching the training yard commence into life.
Grabbing at a young private, Master Sergeant McMillan pushed him forwards against the first hurdle; A large ten foot wall, with no ropes. “You, You and You” he said quickly, pointing to three random men who just happened to be the closer ones. “Get against the wall! Do three lifts each, then tag the next person in line to do three lifts!” he barked out, the three privates nodding as they quickly dropped their backs against the wooden blockade, cupping their hands out for the muddy boots to be placed in. Steven paced about, as he allowed a majority of the men to get over the wall, before he approached one of the lifters to haul himself over - about to drop down, he called down to the remaining soldiers “You lot, get on the wall and help the rest over! Otherwise we’ll be leaving a few men behind” he said hastily, before dropping down into the mud with a splatter.
Pacing across the small stretch of field towards the column of men attempting to cross three beams of balancing logs, slackened with grease for effectiveness, he watched as a few slipped off, hitting the dirt hard. “Make way!” he shouted, pushing through the clogged up crowd, waiting for their turn - they had to move faster than this! “Look! You cross the beam like this” he yelled out impatiently, as he stepped up onto the log, momentarily adjusting his feet to get used to the feel of straining his legs against the wooden beam. Taking a couple of steps forwards, he swung his rifle from off his shoulder and held it out in front of him, using it to counter balance his bodyweight from one wobble to the next. A meter from the end, he lowered the rifle and hastily stepped across the last few steps, before dropping down at the other end, turning back to yell at the gawping recruits. “C’MON! Move!” - with that, at least three men bunched up together attempted to cross the logs each, moving across quickly.
Shaking his head, he turned towards the next platform, only several men sat waiting at it from a successful cross at the balancing logs. “Alright, let’s get moving!” he chanted out to them, as he threw himself against the ropes of a monkey-net, climbing his way up quickly, whilst the other soldiers followed suit. Why they’d stopped to wait for him, made him wonder, but during battle, that wasn’t such a bad thing. He wouldn’t exactly want anyone rushing into the enemy’s line of fire without knowing what to do. Reaching the top, he hooked his leg onto the iron bar and pulled himself over onto the other side. Grappling at the ropes, he made quick work in climbing down the opposite net to jump against the ground heavily. Swinging his arm up towards the following recruits, he took a moment to catch his breath and faced the next obstacle; A random assortment of empty vehicles to climb over. It was unique, but subliminally, it made the men aware of how to climb upon an assortment of vehicles out in the field - who knows, one day one of them might have to baton the enemy hatch with a grenade!
