Whiskey for my men, and beer for my horses (open)

[frankconner]

Private Francis Conner wandered into the London pup. He had been wounded in Operation Overlord and shipped to the rear. He'd recovered (physically at least) but had been given a few extra days leave to relax. The smell of burning flesh and expended gunpowder still lingered in his nose.

He couldn't shake the image of Billy Hammond, his best friend since he was three, getting cut into Swiss cheese by machine gun fire while he hung from a tree by his parachute like a god damn Christmas ornament.

He sat at the bar and ordered an entire bottle of whiskey. Before now, he hadn't ever even drank.

[Cpl. Robert Anderson]

The request made Robert's blood boil. One of the Lieutenants from Baker Company asked him if he could round up the soldiers ready for battle and bring them to him. This was request that was given to the pencil pushers that sat at desks all day. Robert was fighting man and definately no pencil pusher. He couldn't go against an officer, especially one in his own Brigade, so he agreed to doing the task he was requested to verbally with the Lieutenant. He walked over to the Medical Area where he had a short talk with the Head Surgeon, who looked very rushed.

"Sir, requesting all'a' yer men that're able fer duty to come wi' me." He said in his southern accent. The Surgeon looked at him for a second then picked up his clipboard and ran down the list of names, he then stopped on one in particular.

"A Private Francis Conner should be ready to go." The Surgeon said in an annyed manner. He then started to walk off, Robert quickly behind him.

"'Scuse me sir, but's that it?" The Surgeon turned around and looked Robert in the eyes.

"Yeah, that's it. Now can you go do something else?" The tone was very frustrated and angry now. Robert just smirked and started walking away.

"No need to get yer panties in a bunch." Robert said sarcastically and under his breath when he was out of ear shot.

Robert had two choices now. He could either track this "Frank Conner" down or he could go back to his superior and get chewed out. He had been chewed out before, normally for killing prisinors. It wasn't too bad he thought, it would be better if the Officers heard of brushing their teeth once in a while, so Robert decided against just going back to his superior. Where would I go if I just came out of a Med station? He thought to himself as he stood on the sidewalk looking around. Dang, I'm an idiot. As the thought passed through Robert's head he saw a bar off in the distance. He looked both ways before he crossed the street. He didn't really feel like getting hit by some stupid Frenchman today.

The door swung open and Robert got ready for the stench of smoke to fill his nostrils. He was surprised when none did, instead he was hit by the sound of loud voices. Robert walked up to the bar tender. He was a shorter man, maybe fifty or older.

"Can I help you?" The Frenchman said in his best attempt at English.

"Nah, thanks anyways sir. You know if there's any American's in here?" The man stared at him blankly, obviously not recognizing Robert's heavy accent. "Forget it." He walked over to two men sitting down in a table close by. "Ya'll like Americans?" They both nodded their heads excitedly. "Well ya'll pro'lly won't like this'n." Robert said as he grabbed one of the empty mugs for beer and smashed it on their table. Everyone went silent and looked in his direction. "Well, now that I got ya'll's attent'n. 'S there a Private Francis Conner here?" Everyone stared at him blankly. "Dumbass Frenchies." Robert said under his breath so no one could hear his comment.

[PFC. Joey Toniatti]

Joey was sitting i nthe back hear ing some of the other men rambling on about how bad war was and how it sucked and how the french hate us and all well fuck them he thought. We were here to help them and all they fuckign do is hate us and throw us around like some whores just looking for a free hand job? no toniati aint like that. He saw one of the new guys. Joey mumbled to him self "He aint seen shit." Ever sence seeing clint, his best freind, get shot in front of him joey hadnt been the same. One of those thing that never leave you.

Sudenly Robert came in. He couldnt belive his eyes."Well, now that I got ya'll's attent'n. 'S there a Private Francis Conner here?" he maneged to say after fighting with some frecnh.

"AYY You mind i i tag along?" Joey swung his BAR into the air and ran over to them.

[frankconner]

Francis pulled a few notes out of the breast pocket of his service coat and tossed them onto the bar, grabbing the bottle he'd ordered and pouring a tall glass. He gulped it down.

He'd been shipped out a year ago, and had been in almost constant combat since, seen dozens of men die and killed dozens more. But Billy was the first he'd actually known. His brother had died in the Pacific and his cousin at Pearl Harbor, but he hadn't witnessed either of those.

He could still hear Billy screaming as he saw the kraut raise his weapon. He'd rushed over, but didn't get there until after he was already dead, then as the rage built up inside him he emptied his Garand into the bastard.

He heard an American with a southern accent calling his name. He raised his hand.

"I'm Private Conner."

[Cpl. Robert Anderson]

The sound of an Italian accent pierced Robert's ears like an arrow. Ya gotta be kiddin' me. Robert thought to himself as he turned to see none other than Private Joey Toniatti. "Ayy You mind if I tag along?" He said as he pulled his bulky BAR over his shoulder. Robert scratched his beard in thought. He didn't particularly want to get to know Joey any better, but he did enjoy his company so after a second or two he made up his mind.

"Well, I reckon it don't matter either way so, why not?" He said nonchalantly as he shrugged without feeling. He was here for a reason though, not just to hang out with Privates. He had to do a mission he felt was wrong for him, but good for the Lieutenant seeing as he didn't look to be the fighting type.

One of the two men who Robert had recently been talking to tugged at Robert's arm. "What you do zat for?" He said in his French accent. "Don't worry pal, I'm'a pay fer it." Robert replied with a touch of annoyance in his words. The man bobbed his head a few times then went back to his drink. Robert started looking around the bar again until he saw a man raise his hand. "I'm Private Conner." He stated. Robert walked over to the private taking his time and sat right next to the Private. He slapped the private on the back and laughed a little as he thought of what he was going to say next. "Wanna kill some Nazis? Yer gettin' moved back to the front boy, and by the way, I'm yer squads Corporal. Anderson, that's all ya need to know." He stood up after he said the words. "Get a move on, kid. Lieutenants 'xpectin' ya.

[PFC. Joey Toniatti]

Joey was excited to hear about what he was gunna do. He hadnt heared about the mission yet and he nearly pee'd himself just wanting to get out there and fight. "Er', Uh, SIR?" he laughed saying it as joey and the corpal had always been freinds. "Can i ask what were..."

Joey was interupted by someone. From the end of the bar. A new guy who hadnt even goten himself dirty yet. "I'm Private Conner."

"Well i cant wait to see THAT pussy in combat." Joey mumbleded to himself makeing sure no one would hear him say it. "Joey Toniati nice to meet yer suf." Joey tried impersananting the southern accent but his ittalian accent stood out too much and made him sound like well you know the guiny that he is.

"Wanna kill some Nazis? Yer gettin' moved back to the front boy, and by the way, I'm yer squads Corporal. Anderson, that's all ya need to know." He stood up after he said the words. "Get a move on, kid. Lieutenants 'xpectin' ya." Then Robert said as joey stood there staring at the PRivate.

"Well you heard the man lets go." He laughed and began to walk out to the trucks and tanks outside.

[frankconner]

Frank stood and saluted the Corporal. He hadn't realized the man was an officer before he introduced himself.

"Yes, sir." he said "I just need a minute to change."

The Corporal returned the gesture and Conner gulped the rest of the whiskey down, before following him out of the bar. He'd make those fucking bastards pay for Billy. He wanted revenge, and now he had a chance to get it.

[Heiko Alkema]

Just a friendly notice, to receive CP for a post it must be at least 15 lines of text.

- Heiko

[Murdo Boss]

Mungo had been resting in the bar, thoughts of the last raid washing over him repeatedly. Images of his squad getting hit by the 42 was accompanied by the loud chainsaw sound of the machine gun, spurts of blood bursting from their chests as the 7.92 rounds opened their cavities. Shaking his head, Murdo tried to put the past behind him by ordering a double shot of voddy, just as he heard a glass smash on the other side of the room. Words were spoken by the perpetrated, but Mungo couldn’t make them out over the general ambience of the local hangout, so turned to the newly poured shot and stared at it’s clear form for a few seconds.

His second glance at the man who’d smashed the glass revealed another man, this one a loud American who he could easily hear from where he sat, and Mungo watched as they both turned to see yet another American rise up, his arm high in the air. Bloody Yanks, donae even ‘ave any common decency.

Downing his shot, the Scot rose up from his stool, slipping a couple bills to the bartender who’d been captivated by the glass smashing, before turning and heading towards the door behind the three jolly Americans. “-kill some Nazis? Yer gettin' moved back to the front boy, and by the way, I'm yer squads Corporal. Anderson, that's all ya need to know,” Said the first American after slipping one of the Frenchmen at the table cash fro the broken glass, followed closely by "Get a move on, kid. Lieutenants 'xpectin' ya,”. Before the three paraded out the door.

Mungo was only a few steps behind them, and once the trio hit the streets the Scot cut the distance and slapped the Corporal on the back unexpectedly, catching him off guard. “Awl roight there mate, whas this aboot killin soom Natzai’s ay?” He asked, accent purposely horrible to throw the American off, and mixed with the booze he’d had over the last couple hours, it was an atrocity against the language.

[Cpl. Robert Anderson]

OOC: Maybe one of my more racist posts so prepare yourselves. ;D. Also, since Conners has left the site we can proceed.

Robert saw Francis move towards him quickly. He saluted looking slightly nervous. Robert wasn't surprised, most men in general were intimidated by the size and facial structure. The next words that went into Robert's ears disappointed him slightly. He was fine with being called "sir" but, he thought the man would be more enticed by his words instead of just, "I just need a minute to change." Robert just gave a small sneer and replied. "A'ight princess, ladies room's over thar." He said in an obviously mocking tone.

"Well you heard the man lets go." The words entered Robert's ears. He bent his head back slightly, sighed, then looked at Joey. "Was I not convincin' 'nough fer ya 'r somethin'? He said in a slightly sarcastic tone while being serious at the same time.

Robert turned towards the door just to look around. Before he knew it a hand slapped him on the back and a loud voice came. The rambling went into his ears and what he saw in his mind's eye made him react. The sight of his Sergeant when Robert was a private being attacked from behind having his throat ripped open by one of their razor sharp blades. Robert whipped around grabbing the man's hand while pulling his knife out lightning fast. He pressed the man up against the wall, blade against his throat. Robert stayed there for a second, then realized the face didn't have squinted eyes or the same color of skin. The man was lighter with a beard and a heavy moustache. Robert didn't know who it was, but he released. By the words he definately wasn't American. "You friggin' island monkey! You're lucky I didn't cut yer limey throat!" Adrenaline and rage ran through Robert and made his pulse quicken.

Robert then sat next to one of the Frenchmen and slammed his knife into the table. He took a drink of his beer. He sat there for a second or two then addressed whatever the man was who he had just threatened. "Why don't you and yer stupid Scotch pals run back to yer queen and tell e'r to make you Capt'n of yer own friggin', little island. Y'all can call it, 'Redtown' 'er somethin' equally gay." Robert said in disgust for anyone from Europe or anywhere that wasn't the United States.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

The following CP has been issued:

Conner - 1

Anderson - 4

Toniatti - 1

Boss - 1

-JT