Eating some grub... (Open)

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

Sergeant Nick Staffing quietly entered the canteen, hoping to get some hot food. "I'm sick of cold, stale bread. I want some real food!" Staffing glanced to his right, where he saw a few members of his platoon- Corporals Enders and Wye, and a few Privates whose name he had not yet learned. "Not in the mood to talk with them though..." Nick quickly turned left, went in line, and waited to see what was on the menu. As he waited, Nick couldn't help but think of the food his wife made- The ham, the potatoes, the steaks; all of it delicious. "I wonder how she's coping with the rationing?" Nick pondered this thought for a few seconds, before being nudged by a fellow sergeant, "Hey buddy, you're holding the whole line up." Nick snapped back to reality and after a quick apology, got his food. It looked surprisingly good; 2 sloppy joes with a roll, a small brownie and some hot coffee. Nick found a bench with a few random G.I.s and sat down, hungrier than before. Nick smiled as he munched on a sloppy joe, remembering when his wife had made them before he left. "Not as good as hers, but pretty damn close!" Nick quickly polished one off, and deciding to savor the other one, slowly chewed his bread roll. As he ate, he looked around, noticing the general mood of the canteen- Everyone was... indifferent. They didn't seem sad or depressed, but they were certainly not jumpy and cheerful. "Maybe the Captain will get some USO shows or something."

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

Brandon shuffeled up to the front of the line and looked around the mess hall. As the cook slapped down two sloppy joes and a bread roll along with his brownie and coffee, Brandon simply stared at the food. He had never before eaten a sloppy joe in his life. He shrugged and slowly walked through the mess hall. The place was packed with everyone eating and talking. The rumors of deployment were definitely the talk of the whole regiment the only question was whether it were true. As Brandon passed a few tables he settled on one. He raised his tray over everyone's heads and set it down next to Sgt. Staffing. He sat down and slowly raised the bread roll. He chewed on it until there was nothing left but crumbs then sipped his coffee. He reluctantly raised a sloppy joe and paused before biting into it. He looked around and finally his gaze stopped on Staffing.

"Hey ummm what is this stuff?" he asked feeling like an idiot.

He of course came from a Portuguese home where most of the food he ate was either some form of cooked meat and potatoes or a delicious variation of sea food. He could see it was ground meat in what looked to be tomato sauce but it was thick. He shrugged and bit into it. To his delight it tastes amazing and he quickly took a second bite.

"Not bad, but nothing like mom's home cooking." He thought to himself.

Quickly thinking of home his mind wandered to his fiance and unborn child. He felt as if his throat was closing as he choked down the first two bites.

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

"Hey ummm what is this stuff?"

Nick cocked his head at the sergeant who had joined him at the table. He gave him a long stare before finally putting down the half-eaten roll onto his plate and responding, "A sloppy joe. You never had one before?". Nick carefully studied the the man next to him, he looked of Latin descent, but couldn't put his finger on it. "Hey, uh, you Spanish or something?" Nick said rather bluntly. It wasn't that he was trying to be rude, but the war had made Nick more of a 'get-to-the-point' sort of guy. Before letting the man respond, Nick glanced around the room, looking at the sullen soldiers, before looking down at his plate. "We only ever eat this good before a deployment." he thought to himself sadly. As the war dragged on, Nick had become rather disillusioned with the whole concept of it- Sure, the propaganda department kept spewing out loads of 'Fight for America! Fight for Freedom!' lines, but those uptight white-collar guys had never seen 1 day on the front lines. Nick shuddered as he remembered his last mission, trying to put it out of his mind. He had lost 4 privates and 2 corporals because of the ignorance of a few Lieutenants and Captains. Nick turned his gaze back over to the sergeant, and quickly said, "Sorry 'bout being so abrupt. Name's Staffing, Nick Staffing. Sergeant." Nick threw in the last bit about his rank because he had on a few occasions not done so, which resulted in a few privates thinking him for a new guy. The results of those were never pretty. Nick looked at the sergeant, waiting for an answer.

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

Brandon shook his head with a half hearted grin. Sure he had heard the question all the time.

"You Puerto Rican, You Spanish?" people would ask.

And every time Brandon would have to clarify being Portuguese. It didn't bother him much anymore he was so used to it. He then acknowledged the new food "Sloppy Joe". He watched as some of it dripped out the back of the bun and onto his plate.

"What a fitting name for such a sandwich" He chuckled to Staffing.

"And no I'm not Spanish but you were close" He said with a grin.

"I'm Portuguese...but make no mistake I was born and raised in the good ol' US of A just like you were" He concluded taking another bite of the sloppy joe.

He indulged in the bite and chewed slowly. This in his mind allowed for what he just said to sink in with Sgt. Staffing. He looked the man over and swallowed before bowing his head slightly.

"And don't worry about being abrupt you asked more polite than most, the names Brandon, Sergeant Brandon J. Martin" He said extending his hand.

He then looked the mess hall over once more before looking back at his comrade. He turned back to Staffing with a sort of frown and hushed his voice as he began.

"So if you don't mind me being so abrupt when do you think we're shipping out?" He began looking the man in his eyes.
"I mean it has to be soon, intelligence office is rumbling and I know a lot of rumors start that way but this seems real..." he let his voice drag off looking to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

He picked up his unfinished sandwich but his appetite had left him. All he could think about now was his family back home, more importantly his fiance and unborn child.

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

"What a fitting name for such a sandwich"

"And no I'm not Spanish but you were close"

"I'mPortuguese...butmake no mistake I was born and raised in the good ol' US of A just like you were"

Nick nodded absentmindedly at each response, he was busy chewing his roll and thinking of the Lieutenant's response: "Don't worry about it Sergeant, in due time you'll find out." Nick hated these types of 'maybe, maybe not' answers, he wanted a real clear response; yes or no. It wasn't even the response that bothered Nick, it was the Lieutenant himself- Well, actually his rank. He hated that these 'Commissioned Privates' had that air of superiority to them- In Nick's mind, enlisted men deserved more than the shit that was given to them. Nick, however, did not mind the higher ranks, such as Major, Colonels, or above; they had earned their respect and stripes- Lieutenants had not. Nick quickly glanced at Brandon, "I miss my home and family, more so then the average Joe. I was suppose to go home 2 months ago, but due to some shortage of experienced NCOs, they had me stay." Nick gritted his teeth as he told Brandon this lie: There was no shortage of men, he had simply pissed off a Lieutenant Colonel, and now he had to deal with the consequences. Nick sighed quietly and raised his eyebrow when Brandon said:

"So if you don't mind me being so abrupt when do you think we're shipping out?"

"I mean it has to be soon, intelligence office is rumbling and I know a lot of rumors start that way but this seems real..."[/color]

Nick nodded at the Sergeant, and slowly put down his fork. "Yeah, we're getting deployed soon. You don't need to even ask anyone or know anything- Just look at what they're serving us." Nick nodded sadly to the sloppy joe. "We only eats this good before really bad news, or a deployment. Or both." Nick laughed at his own comment, causing a few necks to turn around and stare. "So, what are you doing over here? Serving your country, or something else?" Nick had known that there were a few draftees that were unwilling to serve- He could start to see a reason why; this war was going nowhere fast.

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

"So, what are you doing over here? Serving your country, or something else?"

Brandon grinned as he heard this. A lot of people thought that because his family hadn't been born in America for generations that he felt no pride or duty in being in American. He didn't think that Staffing had meant it this way but none the less he pressed the thought in his mind. Why was he here? Was it for money for his new family? Was it patriotism? It seemed now that no matter why he was here he was, and it was unfortunate that he had forgotten in the long months he had been away from home. He shrugged before responding.

"Well I suppose I have many reasons..." He began slowly letting the sentence drag on a bit.

"First and foremost I do feel a sense of obligation this being my country and all, but I guess along with that comes the nice money from throwing my neck out there" He said with a half hearted grin.

He thought about what Staffing had said. His family had already begun and here he was with Brandon sitting and shooting the breeze. What could compel a man in this situation to drop all that to run off and play G.I. Joe? Who knew at this point.

"What about you? I mean I need the money for my fiance back home...and our unborn child that is, but what would compel a man with a family to come over here? Hoping to take a pop shot at Hitler himself?" Brandon concluded with playful sarcasm.

Upon finishing he frowned. Sure he wasn't thrilled to tell people he was having a child out of wedlock but at this point he was in too deep to care. To know if anything happened to him he had a child to leave on in his light was comforting if not bitter sweet.

"So what platoon are you in?" Brandon asked trying to keep the small talk going.

The man seemed friendly enough, and he wondered whether he would be fighting along side him.

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

"What about you? I mean I need the money for my fiance back home...and our unborn child that is, but what would compel a man with a family to come over here? Hoping to take a pop shot at Hitler himself?"

Nick laughed when the sergeant said this, and gave him an approving nod. "If it were up to me, I would kill Hitler with my own 2 hands." Nick quickly finished his second sloppy joe, and slowly picked up his coffee and begun sipping from it. "Eh, not the best, but pretty good." Nick carefully thought about the second part of the question; "...but what would compel a man with a family to come over here?" It was a damn good question, why WAS he here? "I guess I'm here because it looked exciting and I didn't have a job to support me and my family with. My paychecks go directly to them." Nick stretched out his legs before downing the rest of the coffee. Brandon then asked:

"So what platoon are you in?"

Nick smiled as he responded, "3ID, Baker Company, 1st Platoon." Nick responded with a question of his own: "Say, what do you think about going down to the target range and popping off a few shots?"

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

"3ID, Baker Company, 1st Platoon"

Brandon grinned when he heard this. He was glad to hear his new friend in the same platoon as he was.

"So you're in the same platoon huh? Well I guess I have someone to watch my back" Brandon said jokingly.

In honesty he was only half joking. Since his arrival to the military he hadn't made any friends and wasn't sure anyone would care if he just dropped dead. He was hoping that forming a strong bond with this man would help keep him from being just another grim statistic. While thinking all of this over Brandon woofed down the rest of his meal pausing only briefly to savor the taste of the brownie. Brandon grabbed his cup of water not being a huge coffee drinker. He polished it off and then set down the glass.

"You know with the way America is right now I'm not surprised you can't find a job." Brandon said with a sympathetic look.

Brandon had always had work. He was a great employee actually. And it was funny because he worked for his dad. Most people would assume as the owners son he sat around and got payed for nothing. But in reality Brandon went into work everyday with a chip on his shoulder believing he had something to prove. Maybe he just wanted to show that just because he was the owners son he received no special treatment. And it was the truth. His dad had always pushed him to be better at anything he did. His father was just the kind of man someone could look up to, to strive to be. So maybe it shouldn't have been a shock when he told his parents he was joining the military. But that was gone now and Brandon simply stared at his empty tray.

"You know the range sounds pretty nice right now." Brandon replied with a grin.

He grabbed his tray and before dropping it off he added.

"Say aren't you the guy with the Enfield?" He jabbed at hoping his humor wouldn't be lost.

If it were one thing Brandon has it was a sarcastic sense of humor which could make even the roughest men laugh.

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

Nick said nothing as they dropped off their trays and made there way out of the mess hall. "My Enfield has a long story to it, I might tell you one day." Nick said easily. It wasn't that he was being rude, it was simply a story that Nick did not like to repeat often, given how he received the gun. He knew of a few soldiers in the 3ID that thought it was odd of him to carry around a British rifle, and a bolt-action at that! Nick however, was simply amazed by the gun- The Lee-Enfield Mk III, standard issue for Commonwealth soldiers. The rifle had been in use ever since the late 1800's, was the main rifle for the British for World War 1, as well as this war. It could shoot a bullet at around 2,440 feet per second, and once it hit an enemy it usually had lethal side effects. All in all, he cherished for its fighting potential as well as its history.

Nick and Brandon slowly made their way to the gun range, saluting a few Officers that straggled by, as well as talking to a few men. As they continued on their way, Nick pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Brandon. "If bullets don't kill me, this sure as hell will." Nick lit his own and took a quick drag before asking Brandon: "So, you a good shot? I don't want to be shot in the ass while we're fighting the krauts, you know?" Nick gave a casual chuckle, hoping Brandon wouldn't take him to seriously. As they neared the range, Nick thought about the next mission; where would they be headed? Europe? North Africa? He sighed at the thought, but knew what had to be done had to be done. He was simply looking forward to returning home to his wife and kid, 2 people he missed dearly. He wrote to them constantly, as they did to him. Receiving the letters always boosted his morale, and he felt at ease knowing that a few people still cared about him deeply.

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

Brandon took the cigarette and lit it. Taking a drag it inhaled and then exhaled slowly. He was even more curious about the Enfield but chose not to push the subject. He didn't want to offend his new friend after all. Seeing as how they were the only two on the range Brandon grinned. He had been shooting since he was 6 of course he hunted with his dad. He didn't think he was all that great of a shot just good enough to keep himself and others alive.

"Good shot?" He repeated reaching into his pocket.

From it he withdrew a silver quarter and flipped it into the air. He let it fall into his hand before clenching his fingers.

"Ehh I'm ok I guess but here's a trick my dad showed me." He said walking over to the targets. He grabbed it and quickly up rooting it he pushed it back to about 300 yards.

He carefully placed the quarter with the good ol' Washington facing towards him. He ran back to the firing position and took aim adjusting the garand sights slightly.

"My dad was always a better shot tenfold" He said before firing.

With that there was a crack heard as the round went of. In an instance the quarter fell back a bullet lodged in its core. It tumbled back hitting the ground softly.

"He was in WW1, basically taught me everything I knew" he said starting off towards the quarter to inspect it.

He retrieved it and making his way back to his comrade placed it in his pocket.

"There I'm sure you'll be just fine" Brandon concluded matching his chuckle.

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

Nick watched silently as Brandon hit the coin dead-on. After he had retrieved it, Nick spoke. "Impressive.But can you repeat that shot under enemy sniper, mortar, and/or artillery fire?" Nick cracked a grin as he said this- He wasn't making fun of Brandon, it was just that he had seen a few hotshots think they were all that, and that in turn led them to become careless on the field. Needless to say, they didn't last to long. "I'll be right back." Nick walked over to the Supply CO, and gave him a quick salute. "Captain White, it's good to see you sir. Is my Enfield ready?" The Captain nodded and slowly reached under the counter and pulled out the rifle. He placed it on top of the sandbag and looked at it,

"Well sergeant, Private Shift completed all those modifications you had requested."

Nick nodded and took the rifle, "Thank you sir. And thank the good private if you see him." Nick walked back over to Brandon. Without saying anything, he grabbed 3 empty coke bottles, and filled them with water from his canteen. He then walked over to the 500 yard marker- the furthest he could go on the range, and placed the 3 bottles filled with water on top of a wooden fence. He walked back quickly to the range line, and loaded his rifle. "Time to see if I'm still a good shot!" Nick said as he pushed down the bolt. He went prone for the first shot, and looked carefully down his sights.

BANG!

A loud roar erupted from the end of the Enfield, and within a second, the first bottle exploded. Nick then crouched, and aimed carefully once more.

BANG!

A second roar, a second hit. He was doing pretty good- But now came the challenge. He stood up, and aimed the Enfield carefully down range. He took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

A last shot, and another explosion of water. Nick opened the bolt and ejected the smoking round. He smiled as he looked down the range. "Not too bad, that's for sure..." Nick turned to Brandon, "So, what do you think?"

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

OOC: How would you feel about a combat run with the units we just received? I could make a 2 vs 2

Brandon grinned as he watched the bottles exploded. He was glad to see his comrade was a good shot to.

"I think I'll do just fine with the mortars and angry Krauts." He said his grin becoming more of a sly smirk.

He pulled his bayonet from his sheath. He began flipping it around in and out of his hands. The blade moved quickly yet Brandon seemed to make it look effortless. It spun in his palm then he moved his hand forward it slid onto the back of his hand. He did this dance for about a minute alternating hands and what not before abruptly stopping. He clenched the tip of the blade and flung the bayonet at the closest target about 25 yards away. It smacked dead center embedding itself dead center on the target. Brandon looked away and chuckled. He looked at Staffing and without looking back at the bayonet simply pointed over at it with his thumb.

"Now I'm not saying I will do that to a Kraut but I'm not saying I won't" He said playfully.

Suddenly something over Staffing's should caught his eye. It was Private Serano running over to them. On his face was plastered a look of fear and frustration. Brandon could only assume what the Private has to tell him.

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

OOC - Sounds good to me, this post will be a bit short- You can end it in your next post if you want.

Nick simply looked on as Brandon threw the knife, he was a good shot, no doubt about that- But Nick quietly worried that explosions and gunshots around him would throw him off. Nick quickly shook off this thought, however, as he hadn't even seen this sergeant in combat yet- He could be even better during a fire fight! Nick opened his mouth to ask the sergeant something:

"So, you seem to b--"

Nick's question, however, would have to wait. Running from the side of the range came a private, one who Nick knew was in Brandon's squad. "He looks a little... jumpy." Nick tried to scan the face of the private, who looked scared and worried about something. Nick then turned over to Brandon:

"This your private? He looks like he's just seen a ghost or something..."

Nick turned backed to the private who was nearing them, the news he was about to deliver surely wasn't good- Or wanted. Nick sighed to himself, he was 110% it was an order to move out. "Jesus, there's never a break around here, is there?

[Sergeant Brandon Martin]

Brandon looked over at Staffing and nodded.

"Yeah when I got transfered to Baker I got a new squad and he was one of em'" He said poking Serano in the shoulder.

Truth be told he loved his squad. The strong silent Goliath was an awesome soldier and seldom spoke unless it was something important. Carleton and Drake, well where to start. The two were inseparable and wherever one went you were sure to find the other. The fought like brothers and just enjoyed each others company. Then there was Serano. He was jumpier than a rabbit during hunting season but he was a good kid. Only 18 he was a fresh face in the look of an ugly war. Then there was Chirillo the class clown. He was the only other person in the squad who had more sarcasm and humor than Brandon himself and he could find time to crack a joke when ever he saw fit. And finally there was Ennis. He was sort of the big brother of the unit and most people would agree he was second in command to Brandon. Brandon was actually hoping Ennis would get bumped to Corporal to make his second in command status a little more official. All together Brandon saw his unit of young guys as little brothers and was there to help and nurture them. But he was still in charge and was still their sergeant.

"Sarge...I can't believe it me and Goliath we..." Serano began stuttering and huffing.

Brandon shook his head putting both hands on each of his shoulders.

"Serano...breathe kiddo what happened? Must be important for Goliath to say something." He said shaking his head with a smirk.

Serano doubling over looked up at Brandon. His face looked as if he were going to be sick and with his next words Brandon felt as if he would be too.

"We're moving out sir...we're being deployed..."

[Sgt. Nick Staffing]

"We're moving out sir...we're being deployed..."

Those three words had an effect unparalleled to anything that Staffing had heard before. Deployed. Once more. It was something that Nick had dreaded, and when the private utter those words, Nick's face twitched. He knew it was coming, but he had fooled himself into believing that maybe, just maybe, he could stay put for one more week or so. Nick quietly remembered his last mission, some raid on a German-run munitions factory, and how it had ended- Half of his men ended up dead for some crappy factory in God knows where. His CO gave him a commendation, telling him he had done a good service for his country, and that his men didn't die in vain. From Staffing's point, they had. The capture of the factory made little difference for the war effort, indeed, it was reclaimed by the Germans 3 days later. It was this mission that had made Staffing slightly apathetic of the war- What was war anyway? Old men talking and young men dying. The truth of all truths as Staffing called it.

"Deployed huh? Well, I better get a hot shower while I still can..." he half-joked.

Nick glanced over at Brandon, wondering what effect this ill-news would bring on him. Happiness, sadness, anger, terror, or a mixture of the four? War had a funny way of dealing with men; some men were terrified of it, and some men could not live without it.