Ah those Tommies.(Anyone)

[burkhalter]

Date: 9th December, 1944
Time: 2350 hours
Weather: Light Snow

Feury smiled as he put the leave pass he had recieved back in his shirt pocket. He looked around the street as he stepped down it, agnologing the Cobblestone, something the French could be known for. He took off his Helmet as he entered a pub, and looked around for an empty booth, and once he found one, he sat down in it. He set his helmet down on the table, and looked around, looking at the many different men, some Privates, some Corporales, And even a Sergeant They where all British, all Tommies.

Feury looked up from the booth he was sitting in as a cute looking French waitress stepped up to the table, and before she could speak, he said "Just a beer today deary.".

The waitress smiled, and walked away, probably to get him his beer. He smiled as a Record started playing extra loudly on the Gramaphone, something he actually knew, "We'll meet again" By Vera Lynn. The Record played loudly, and as the first verse of the song ended, many of the Soldiers started singing along with the Gramaphone, very loud. Feury just smiled, and looked around, and even joined the two dozen Brits as they sang.

We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smilin' through
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say hello
To the folks that I know
Tell them I won't be long
They'll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song

We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

As the Gramaphone ended, he looked at the door, hoping someone he knew would come in for him to talk to.

[theodoreb]

Laughing to himself he moved over the empty glass of beer standing infront of him and motioned the waitress to give him another. It was sure to anyone that he was intoxicated beyond repair for the night, and as Theodore said what harm could one more do? He reached for his eighth helping of the night, he wanted to drink it all in one try but his mouth wouldn't allow. He let in small sip of cold beer and he looked at his surroundings, all he saw was men who were going to die trying to enjoy what little time they had. At least that was what the alcohol in his mind was telling him. Wiping the excess liquid of his unshaven facial hair he finished the beer that was handed to him and he got up, he realized that some people were singing he stood up with his empty glass in hand and sang along even though he knew his voice had no tune, no rhythm. What was the point of learning to sing? Life is too short anyway.

Theodore felt so dizzy he could barely walk. Trying to balance himself from the craziness of the singing jesters who were dancing in circles he sat on the nearest seat he could find. Banging the empty beer glass on the table.

He saw that the young man infront of him was enjoying his own drink but much less the amount of fun he was having compared to Theodore's joyous time at the pub. Truth be told he didn't know if he was having fun either but a few chugs of alcohol can persuade your mind pretty easily. He looked at the man who was sitting next to him for awhile contemplating on what to say. He saw that the man's standard issue helmet was on the table. Your a smart one ain't ya! Why didn't I think of that. Theodore mumbled while taking of his own helmet and placing it along the table while smelling the empty glass of beer. It could clearly be seen that he was looking for the waitress but he could not be bothered to call her as she was serving a table too far away.

He returned his gaze to the man again. Theodore realized he would probably be wondering he was the bumbling idiot sitting next to him, he reached one hand over the table to shake the man's hand. M' names Theodore. Theodore Barker. Who might you be young fella? He mumbled again but this time in a clearer voice and with more clarity. He waited for a reply from the soldier infront of him, hoping that at least he wouldn't be asked to leave the table since he just got comfortable.

He wanted to ask him what he was here for but then realized he should give him a chance to respond without bombarding questions at him. He himself was here after another normal day at the barracks, tired not knowing what to do. And as any other sensible man would do he came to the pub to finish the night with a barrage of drinks and weird singing. It was not that bad, especially the little bit of time where you forget everything about where you are, what you are doing, the moment of freedom. He resigned himself to the seat looking at the crowd and occasionally changing his gaze from the crowd to the table to the empty glass and to the man.

[burkhalter]

Feury watched the Drunk man, whom before he had sat at his booth, was walking around the room. He noted his rank, First Sergeant, and sighed in relief, he was still the highest ranking soldier in the bar. He looked to be older then him, perhaps in his late 20's, to early 30's, but the beer made him act like a drunken five year old. As the man sat down in his booth, and took off his helmat, he raised his eyebrow, and watched him carefully, he was obviously drunk beyond the point of no return. He listened to everything the drunk said carefully, and then replied.

"My name, First Sergeant, is Feury Campellone, Master Sergeant of the US Army" He said. He watched him carefully, and yawned, it was getting late at night, and perhaps past his bed time.

He watched him, and awaited a few minutes for the drunken man, older then himself, to say something. He watched the waitress, whom he had grown to know for awhile, walk over, and re-fill his glass with beer. She stepped over to Theodores glass, and filled it to the brim, then smiled at Feury as she walked away. She had grown to like the girl, Anne, was her name. He returned his attention to the person sitting across him in his booth, and awaited a second question, he knew it would come, probably where he lived, what his nationality was, ect.

[theodoreb]

He closed his eyes for a second thought what it would be life if the war never happened. What would life be like then? Would he be the simple farmer boy or would he be working in some industry which manufacture's cans? Who knew. Maybe it was better for him as an individual that this war happened. It was alright to go to new places and at least he wasn't going to worried about having nothing to do. Better to be stuck in the middle of the battlefield than in the middle of the streets begging for a coin to get a piece of bread for the day. At least now he could end his life for doing something useful. He tried to get the thoughts of that out of his mind and they were making him more gloomy to his already devastated self. Even though if he didn't look the part of a sad, emotional guy he wasn't happier than the next guy here.

He watched as the waitress came and poured him a drink. Thanks miss. He said in a low tone even though it came out as more of a whisper. He sipped a little bit of the drink again, by now he was getting tired enough already. Theodore looked at him now his eye's a little clear since he had been static for awhile. He didn't look like an American, or a Brit for that matter. He wondered for a while hesitating to ask a question. He knew from how he was sitting and how he was acting he was a serious fellow. Snorting the air through his blocked nose, he knew he had a cold but it didn't bother him much. He had learned to live with a cold or a cough and he could do well to hide it. He looked around if he could spot a window, he saw through a small one near the door. Theodore barely could see outside due to the darkness mixed with the snow. Sighing he returned his attention back to the conversation again.

He looked at the man, Feury Campellone. What kind of name was that? Theodore thought for a moment and finally opened his mouth. So where you from Mr. Campellone? I can call you Feury right? Right! He said without hesitation, putting himself on a first name basis with the Master Sergeant already.

Going through the little hair he had he sat there like a deaf mule thinking. Theodore knew he had more problems on his hand tomorrow. He had to go to a special training mission tomorrow. Which was alright since he had done tons before but it would always be a challenge to him since he would always aim to get better than before. Better in everything, whether it would be who spotted the first trap or who cracked the funniest joke. There was also going to be one more thing which would be a buzz-kill in the morning. The hangover, which by now Theodore has gotten used to more than a couple of times. Luckily he only mostly gets a headache and a slight hint of lethargy.

The Master Sergeant looked pretty proud sitting there. He wondered what he was so worked up for. He was in a pub and quite frankly Theodore didn't give a rats arse what rank or how many badges he got. After a moment of silence Theodore spoke again this time a little more curious, So what's a fella like you doing here? Since he didn't see many people other than privates and corporals who roamed these pubs at this time of the night.

[burkhalter]

Feury looked around the bar for a moment, taking in the sights and sounds of his favorite local pub. He had been going here alot lately, sometimes without permission, when he would stray away from the local manor he was stationed at after his medical leave. The manor was very nice, it somewhat looked like the Brecourt manor, but a bit larger, and it wasnt totally destroyed. He looked at the Sergeant, and didnt reply to his comment about calling him Feury. He paused a moment, before speaking.

"Sicily, im from Palmero Sicily." Feury said. He loved his home very much. As a child, he would run up and down the streets with his many friends. He was quite popular as a child, he played many sports, and valued his friends most of all. When the depression hit at its hardest point, his family had moved out of Italy, and to America, where it would eventually get better.

He listened the the mans next question, and took it all in. Why was he here? He could of easily slipped into the Officers bar at the manor, he had friends high up in the ranks, he could even say that he was good friends with a Brigadeer General, McAuliffe was his name, He was born in washington DC too. Nice man, he was. He was also a great commander at that, very well comprised, well manored, and a great person to be around.

"Well, im here to get a drink, i needed one after listening to a huge arguement between two officers, two Colonels at that, Gave me a huge headache, it got so bad i almost got hit with a flying book, so they gave me leave to get out." Feury said.

He looked out the window, and watched the snow fall. When he moved to america in 38', he played in the snow of New Jersey alot. He loved New Jersey, He loved it alot. He returned his attention to the drunken man, and said "So, may i ask. Mr. Barker, where are you from?"

[theodoreb]

He felt the hint of nausea creep in from the excess drinking he was doing but ignoring it the best he could he kept on drinking. Some might call him an alcoholic, but he doesn't to himself since he can hold himself without alcohol for a pretty long period of time but if he gets his hand on a beer it won't be pretty. Licking what was left of his beer of his mouth he set aside the glass surely done drinking for the night, at least he hoped he would not get the urge for more. He let out a small burp and apologized, although it came out more of a sarcastic remark than a true apology. He searched his mind for Sicily, he never really knew much about other countries since he never went to school but he did know that it was somewhere in Italy. He read it on the newspapers while delivering them, but wasn't Italians with them Nazi's? He let himself go of the deep thoughts after it became clear that thoughts were just making his mind more and more fuzzy.

He listened to the next bit of information from the Italian, he let out a giggle which came off as a roar of laughter. More of it came from the 'he nearly got me with the book part' and a little bit from the officers fighting. Grinning he fixed his eyes at Feury and spoke, That should have been good fun to watch! Well at least you got to get out, you should enjoy a drink or two... while you can.

Ending the sentence with one eyebrow raised he smiled again as he fiddled with his helmet on the table. He didn't look up to hear the man's next question. Theodore himself was born in somewhere tucked into the side of the state of Wisconsin. He liked it there, it was quieter than most of the places in the States. He used to live in a farming town with his parents and brother until he left. It was your ideal countryside, fields to run around in and there was even a lake near his town-house which was great since he and his brother would go there after their chores to play around.

Mr. Feury, My good man! I'm from the place they call Wisconsin. Lovely place in the summer. Got a lake an' all. He had a moment reminiscing the place which he once called home, picturing his mother scolding him for not coming home before sundown and his father working in the farms and teaching him how to use the equipment. And most importantly his late brother who he would spend rough-housing in the fields, since Theodore almost lost every time he would just run away and sneaked up him when he was more vulnerable. Theodore without hesitation asked him more questions to fill in the void he called curiosity. So why is a Sicilian man doing in France with the American Army? He stopped there as he got lost in the gaze looking outside through the window. He would have gone back to camp but the snow didn't help him with his decision either.

[burkhalter]

'Wisconsin', The word ran through his mind, He knew little about that state, accept for the fact it was a major manufacturer of Cheese... Cheese of all things. He looked around the room, and watched the smokey haze at the top of the room, a result of the many smokers inside of the room. He sighed, he never was fond of smoking, he viewed it as a dirty habbit, and he had heard that another person hated it too, Mr. Adolf Hitler. He had read in "Stars and Stripes" that Adolf gave officers in his staff Golden pocket watches if they stopped smoking. Of all the things to give to someone if they quit smoking, a golden pocket watch? It was a good way to get them to stop, Feury Thought.

Feury listened to the drunken mans question, why WAS he here?. He looked at him for a moment, and said "Well, i do suppose that im here for a career. When my family moved to New Jersey in 38', the only job i could find was in the army, so i joined it. I worked my way up. I fought in North Africa in 41' - 43', then was moved to england due to the fact my CO's thought i had cousins in Sicily, and they didnt want them to hide me. I guess it was a good thought, because if i did end up near Palermo, they probably would of hid me.".

What he said was probably too much for the drunken man, the man whom he was now, apperently, on a first name basis with, even without his own concent. He looked out the window, and sighed to himself as the snow fell. He missed the state of New Jersey, he had grown up there, after 30'. He had lived in "Jersey" for eight years before he got the job in the Army. He had almost become a pencil pusher, after failing his fireing test twice. He returned his Attention to the man sitting across from him. He looked at him, noticing all of the characteristics of the man. He was definitly older then him, he had a slight beard, probably from not shaving in quite awhile. He knew another question was to come soon, and waited for it.

[theodoreb]

The wind let a strong draft into the room and exited where he was sitting. He looked at the pub, more people left as the time went on and that was pretty understandable since it was already around the crack of midnight. The headaches from the drinking entered into his system sooner than he thought and he felt depressed for some reason which was bad since Theodore was already quite a pessimist and this just adds to the gloominess of his personality and mood. Seconds passed like minutes, minutes like an hour and an hour an eternity. The crowded pub was constantly trickling with new soldiers and even some civilians and as well as with those who were leaving. Theodore would normally be out in the barracks or already probably sleeping.

Slipping into unconsciousness and out again was normal for the drunk sergeant. He took a coin from his pocket and threw it upwards to see if he catch it so he would be occupied while talking instead of staring at one another.

Breathing hard he looked at Feury after he had finished rambling. Ahh... I didn't ask for your life story, my good man. Or did I? But then again if that was just half of it then you must be one interesting fella' i presume. He stopped there as he failed to catch the coin and the coin slipped onto the floor. Cursing to himself he bent down and tried to pick up the coin, the task took him a couple of minutes to accomplish since his hands were wet and his coordination a lot off. Theodore mumbled to himself thinking what he could ask the first sergeant that would be sensible to ask.

For all Theodore understood from Feury was he joined the army because he couldn't get anything else. He served in Africa whenever and he couldn't be sent to Sicily thats why he's here. Right? Right Theodore whispered to himself looking up to the ceiling which was barely standing up. Out of the ten times he flipped the coin to catch it, he managed to do it successfully on three times which was disappointing to him but anyone watching him would even be impressed by seeing that he's still still awake.

He saw that Feury appeared to be a little off by the smoke mist's covering the whole room from the smoker's in the back. What? You don't like the occasional smoke? He said while checking his pockets for him own pack of cigarettes. Damn It He said as he found his pockets empty at least other than the dust. He turned back to Feury and spoke, Tell me a story from one of your adventures! Or you want me to kick off a story? finished Theodore with one eyebrow raised and his elbow on the table with his gaze fixed at him.

[burkhalter]

Smoking. It was a disgusting habit, atleast in the point of view of Master Sergeant Feury Campellone. He hated smoking, he viewed it as a desperate act. Ofcourse, Feury did view alot of things as desperate. He also viewed alot of people as desperate, and the top person on Feurys endless list of desperate people, was Mr. Adolf Hitler. You must be desperate to start a war with almost the entire world, and it was a huge mistake. He understood america well, from the ten years he lived there, and he knew that the country, atleast the people of New Jersey, didnt want war with Germany, because they didnt attack Pearl Harbor like the Japanese had.

Germany was an interesting country, in Feurys view. They were full of mountians, and plains, it had little towns, and big cities, and he assumed they had nice people. They were alot like a condensed America, but they spoke a different language. He sighed, and pondered what the drunken man across the table had said. 'Do i have any stories? Well, i suppose i do, but i will make him tell me one of his first, seeing as he sat at my table.' He thought to himself.

He looked up at the man, apperently named 'Theodore', and said "Well, Theodore, i do suppose i have a few stories, but i would like to hear you're stories first, my friend.". He liked to learn about different people. He had gotten the chance to get to know a few German Prisioners of War, and they were interesting people, in his view. He looked up at Theodore, and waited for a story he would obviously come up with.

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

CP:
Master Sergeant Campellone: 4CP

Sergeant First Class Barker: 5CP


~Dan