Bunking in Bravo (Open)

[rspeirs]

Welcome to Bravo Company!

[/b][/u]

May 13th, 1944
1900 Hours
Allied Base in London, England

[/u][/left]

“And this, Sergeant Spears, is where you will be bunking until Operation Chicago.” A small private said to a larger, more ominous figure, which stood behind him. “Thank you private, dismissed.” The man said to him. “Oh, and by the way,” The private said to the Sergeant as he walked into his room. “Tonight is poker night in Bravo Company. You might want to come down. You know, get acquainted. I know the men in Bravo, more importantly, First Lieutenant Terry Scott, want to meet you.” The Sergeant pondered the statement for a while, until the private continued speaking. “They heard…” He apprehended, but the Sergeant was now curious. “Go on. They heard what?” The Sergeant said. The private continued. “Well, they had heard things about you, sir.” Now the Sergeant smirked at the Private. “Like what?” The Sergeant said with a bit of anger in his voice. “Well, they heard that in boot camp, you had a mean streak. They say that you aren’t tolerant. That you are fearless. That you are ruthless.” At this point, the Sergeant smiled and said “Now do you believe such stories?” The private, with a bit of apprehension, nodded. “Absolutely sir. I wouldn’t doubt my boys. There is a bond we have shared in combat. I trust em’.” The Sergeant really had nothing to say to such a statement. He had heard of such a bond, yet he had never experienced it beyond the men he was with in Boot Camp. He smiled at the private. “Dismissed soldier.” He said. The private saluted the Sergeant, who gave a nod in recognition.

After this incident, the Sergeant walked up to the bunk room’s door. It had a name plate on it, yet it was covered in dust and unreadable at this point. The Sergeant used his palm to clear the dust from it. It was a name he was not familiar with-“McCormic.” He gently slid that plate off, and put in a new one-Speirs. Yes, this man was none other than 1st Sergeant Ronald “Sparky” Speirs. After placing the name plate on the door, he turned the knob and entered what was a rather dark and dreary room. “Needs some light” He muttered as he pulled the drapes open. From his room, he didn’t have much of a view. He could see a few military vehicles, a bunker, the mess hall, and a few munitions depots, but nothing much in the way of scenery. Nothing like Scotland. He had thought for a second that the lower portion of England would be just like his old Caledonia, but nothing was in comparison. Now he realized the meaning of that old folk song-“Caledonia you are calling.” For a second, this Sergeant’s bitter, cold face was almost replaced with a warm smile filled with fond nostalgia, but it did not last when he had gotten his priorities in check. He began to empty a box, which contained his rations. Nothing like dry, tasteless D-Rations to lift spirits in the heat of battle, Speirs thought to himself. He then changed his focus to unpacking his clothing. He reached into his army rucksack, as he called it, and pulled out his garments, which were neatly folded, and placed them into a drawer. On top of the drawer, he noticed, was placed a helmet, which had written on it “B-Company.” He took the helmet, and inspected it, and it seemed like a nice fit for him. Once he was done unpacking, he decided to recline on his bunk and fall asleep. Yes, it was only 1900 hours, but it had been a long day, and the men of Bravo Company were required to get up at 0500 hours in order to go through role call and the other necessities in a soldiers morning routine.
As he was lying on his bunker, Speirs drifted into a light sleep. Here, he dreamt once more of Scotland. He thought of how grand it would be to go back there once more before being taken to France to fight. He dreamt of meeting a girl there, and how, after the war, they would settle down and have a family together. This fond thought however, was interrupted by a knock on the door…

TBC by Anyone in the 3rd Armor BDE

[Scott Evans]

A Few Minutes Earlier

Scott had spend a long day viewing and reviewing files on the men in his company and trying to work out a routine for their exercise routine but he had found his mind drifting and he leaned back in the chair that was positioned behind a small desk tucked in the corner of a room, this small area was his office. It was normally filled by chattering voices of the other three occupants, but tonight they had all left early, something about a poker night. Scott himself did not go in for that sort of stuff, but the other NCOs that worked with him enjoyed losing their paychecks helter skelter.
Unlike many people, he did not mind staff work. This is not to say he did not enjoying getting out, no, but playing around with figures and keeping his company, Bravo as it was styled, well equipped and provisioned was something he enjoyed.
He contemplated on how he was starting to settle in to the regiment*, getting to know the other officers and their peculiarities. He was also getting a better grasp of his men, who was who, and useless facts about who could smoke the most cigarettes in an hour, something he would rather not dwell on.
Shaking his head with a small grin, he leaned forward and snatched the next paper from an ever growing stack. Glancing at the scribblings on the front he ripped open the envelope that contained it and pulled out a thin sheet of wartime paper with type taking up half the page. He read the words dictated by Captain Patterson, and by the time he was finished he had learned Bravo Company had received another First Sergeant, Ronald Speirs, it looked like.
“That must have been the chap that went into the barracks a while ago” he thought. “Looked like a tough character but I have to make his acquaintance anyways.”
Checking the watch which had been given to him as a going away present from home, and noting it was 1853, he stood up and peered out the old blinds that hung in front of the closest window. A slight wind stirred the trees in the area, and bit of rain drizzled down across the open spaces as the dark clouds gave a gloomy effect to the area.

Tired of the work, for anyone would be weary after an entire day at it, he turned back to his desk, tidied the few papers that could be tidied, and pulled the chain on the small lamp he had been allocated for work when the light from outside was not enough. Making his way carefully to the door, he locked it and began walking towards the Officers mess, zippering up his coat at the same time as it was getting chilly out.
To get to the mess from his makeshift office he had to pass by the barracks where the new fellow, Sergeant Spears if he remembered his name correct, had entered. Doing the conversion quickly he realised that this new lad was the equivalent of a Company Sergeant Major where he came from. He had to mentally correct himself any time he used a British term because for the time he was with the American Division, he felt he should try to fit in as best as he could and not incite bad animosities.
Making his way past the door he realised that this was the perfect opportunity to meet the Sergeant one on one and he checked his stride, swiveled and beat out a loud knock on the door of the barracks.

*I think I might be incorrect and were in an armour battalion, I am not sure the format the US army used during the war. I know the Commonwealth had it Divisions->Brigades->Regiments->Squadrons-> Troops for armour but I do not recall the American formation.

[rspeirs]

Whack! Whack! Bam! Bam! The knocks came louder and louder, one after another, and they seemed to reverberate and echo throughout a room that was nearly empty. Speirs did not answer the door right away, he didn’t think it would be anyone of high priority to speak with. He thought back to the private, who had asked him to play poker with Bravo Company. He had assumed that the person, who had been knocking on the door incessantly, was nothing more than an enlisted foot soldier, who had either A-Wanted to meet Speirs, or B-Wanted to cheat in poker in order to steal Speirs’ money. He smirked at the second thought, and for a second, a smile appeared on his face. The thought that someone might actually be brave enough to steal Speir’s money made him laugh. No one really wanted to talk to the man, afterall, they had heard stories. Most of which, were not based on fact. They were mainly based off the fact that a large, intimidating man, who seemed cold in nature, was now at their disposal to blame their problems on. In reality, Speirs was not that cold or cruel of a man, and he had a soft spot for his men, but nobody, nobody, was brave enough to speak with him.
As he continued this little tangent in his mind, the knocking became louder and louder, until Speirs could not take it any longer. He turned to the side of his bed and sat up. For a second, his tired body prevented him from getting up, and he placed his face into the palm of his hands. It was only the sheer annoyance of the knock that willed him to get up, and answer the door. He walked over quickly, in hopes to cease that cursed noise. He opened the door, rather annoyed and disgusted, only to see what he thought was a foot soldier. “Yes, what do you want…” Speirs looked for the man’s rank or name on his dog tag. Then, something caught his eye. Three golden dots on the soldier’s outfit stood out to Speirs. This was a Lieutenant. Not just any Lieutenant either, this was one exasperated Lieutenant. Nor was it just any exasperated Lieutenant, this was Lieutenant Terry Scott, commander of Bravo Company! Suddenly, Speirs’ look of annoyance changed into a look of fear and embarrassment. He made himself look presentable to the Lieutenant, and clacked his heels together, saluting Lieutenant Scott with a rather flushed face. “Lieutenant” Speirs hesitated “I was not expecting you. Please, forgive my negligence. I meant nothing by it.”

[Scott Evans]

A flustered looking sergeant stood at the open door saluting him and Terry quickly saluted back as crisp as he could manage.
“Lieutenant”
“I was not expecting you. Please, forgive my negligence. I meant nothing by it.”
Waving with his hand as if to say 'it wasn't a bother', Scott said “Think nothing of it my good man, you were probably deep in sleep on your one day off before getting to work, and God knows we all need it. This war has been going on forever and were all tired out.”
He continued. “With that in mind, it is good to have fresh legs about, might I come in? I want to chat with you in regards to how Bravo Company works and what you will be expected to do.”
The sergeant in front of him signaled his approval and shifted out of the way.

Terry quietly walked into the room and leaned up against a bunk post silently watching his new man. He knew that often times it was best to use your eyes before your mouth and avoid trouble that way.
Finally breaking the silence Terry asked, “So I hear your from Scotland sergeant? It's a good place, I always enjoyed visiting it when I was young. You Scots are good soldiers..."
A couple more minutes passed in silence as Terry took in the new sergeant. "So what brought you to war sergeant?"

[rspeirs]

Speirs listened to the kind remarks on Scotland that his Commanding officer had to say. It was heartwarming to hear such things. “Yes, Scotland, she sure is a beautiful place. Shame though, I can’t remember much of her. It is too cloudy. You see, my family moved from there to the United States, so I don’t recall much about her. Someday though, Lieutenant, I wish to return to her. One way or another. You see, these wars are long and cruel. I know. My brother, Corporal Robert Speirs, perished in World War I, defending his native Scotland. I was too young to remember much of him. I know that I will most likely not make it back to the states alive. I have heard my mothers cries, I have seen my father’s tears. They don’t want to lose a second son to war, but I feel obligated, motivated if you will, to fight. If not for the safety of my family, but for the safety of my country, Scotland, and the United States. You see, I am not one of those men, Lieutenant, because of selfish matters. I am not here because I want to be looked upon as a hero, because I know in my heart that I am far from heroism. I have done far too many cruel things in my life to be considered amongst heroes like Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, and Richard III. I am not here for the money, as I know I won’t make it from the battlefield alive. I am not here for the ladies. Quite frankly sir, I could care less if I get a girl. Have yet to kiss one if that proves my point. I am simply here because it is the right thing to do. I will die along side you. I have accepted that. In battle, you are already dead, sir, it’s a fact we must all accept. That is why I fight, and one day, I want my ashes to be spread amongst the majestic hills of Scotland.”

Speirs didn’t mean to ramble, as he is usually a quiet individual. However, with his reticent nature was a deep, burning passion. He felt strongly for the cause of war, despite his family’s woes about him entering this war. Then again, it’s not like Speirs had a choice with the draft. However, Speirs knew that even without the draft, he would be here, fighting for his homeland.

He sat down on his bunk, and looked at his commanding officer, saying “Do you have a cigarette?” He waited for his Commanding Officer’s answer, but he added a question onto his last-“I have answered your question, now, how is it that Bravo works? If I am after all, a 1st Sergeant, where exactly will I be on the battlefield? I am rather anxious to test my mettle on the field of battle.”

[Scott Evans]

As the sergeant in front of him poured out a fair portion of his heart for such a tough looking man, Scott listened intently to his tale, he knew that it was important to listen to your men and get them to trust you, it was imperative if you wanted to succeed and form a bond that even war could not break.
When the man across from him began talking about his reasons for joining it brought back memories to Terry of his early days, and why he joined. It certainly was not for this war, it hadn't started at that time. But it was most certainly for his country. Not this army he was in, no. The series of events that surrounded his tranfer to an American division and the promotion to company commander was still dizzying, but someday he knew he would return to his old unit in the British Airborne.

The sergeant fell silent and sat quietly on his bunk.

“Do you have a cigarette?”

Hearing the question Terry reached up and probed around in his chest pocket for the pack he had been rationed. Tossing the entire thing to the sergeant he said “Here, take the whole thing, it's no use to me, I don't smoke. I normally just swap them for chocolate or something.”

“I have answered your question, now, how is it that Bravo works? If I am after all, a 1st Sergeant, where exactly will I be on the battlefield? I am rather anxious to test my mettle on the field of battle.”

“Well, for the moment were still doing mostly training, but we will see action soon enough. For the moment until other arrangements are made you will stick by my side and replace Sergeant Ballard if he buys it, but eventually you will get your own platoon and we will go from there.”
“I wish I could tell you when the division is going into battle, but that is for Army HQ to decide.”
The sergeant quietly soaked this in.
Terry continued “Captain Patterson is our CO, Lieutenant Ealing is 2iC, both good officers, so treat them with the respect due, they are the best two men of your nationality I have ever met, very good caliber, so don't cross the line.”
“The NCOs you will meet as you go. Don't pick fights and you should be okay. Take care of yourself and work hard and you will fit in fine.”
As an afterthought, “Oh, and don't worry about any reputation you have, they will all learn to like you soon enough.”
Observing the sergeant shift around uncomfortably when his reputation was mentioned Terry quietly said. “I do not know anything about it, my job is not to listen to rumors and idle gossip about new men. But whatever you can do can be used by the army. Remember that whoever you are you are needed.”

[rspeirs]

Speirs eagerly took the cigarette from the Lieutenant. He smelled the tobacco inside of it, then, he took a lighter from his pocket. He lit the fag, and then began to smoke it. He took a breath, then began to speak “I too, try not to smoke. I find I like tobacco too much, but under certain circumstances, I do smoke. It’s a nasty habit, but I am fond of it.”
Speirs listened to his Lieutenant speak about the fact that Bravo had yet to see action. He sort of figured as much, seeing as the men seemed so eager to get into battle. They were foolish, Speirs thought to himself. Speirs had yet to see battle, but he knew from seeing his brother’s funeral that war’s glory was all “moonshine.” He still however, liked the idea of having his own platoon. “So I have heard” Speirs said. “I have met two of my men already. Gary Jasper and Sam Corrion. They seem like they will make good soldiers. For my sake, I hope so. My platoon still seems so small. Then again, it will grow over time. And yes, I have met Captain Patterson. He is a good man.” Speirs couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted over the fact that Scott had to inform him to treat the Captain with respect. He brought it up. “With all due respect Lieutenant, I intend to treat my superiors with the dignity they deserve. I am not your typical soldier, who is all bolstered up on adrenaline and his own pride. That is foolishness if I have ever seen it. All pride gets you is dead. Soon enough, those arrogant soldiers will be sent back in their own body bags.” Speirs scoffed at the thought. “As for taking care of myself, you shouldn’t need to worry about that. I have always done that. At home, I was never the one to be given things on a golden platter. No, I had to earn everything I got. At West Point, I earned my rank. At Camp Toccoa, I proved myself to be the 1st Sergeant I am. And now, I will prove myself on the field of battle.” Speirs didn’t mean to come off as harsh to his superior, but he did mean to make an impression of his toughness.
Speirs then heard the Lieutenant bring up the matter of reputation. Another idea that made the 1st Sergeant scoff. He took another breath of the sweet tobacco he held in his hand, and then spoke. “Reputation is no more than a sham. These soldiers won’t like me because they are arrogant, but you will see Lieutenant, that they will come to respect me soon enough. You see sir, that is why soldiers come to despise me; because I am cold. They want a Platoon leader to be understanding, to be gentle, to be kind, but this is war. In war, you need to show discipline. I treat my soldiers they way I do because I know what I have to do to have my platoon succeed. I am in charge of these men for a reason. If they die, I fail. And for me, failure is not an option.” Speirs got up from his bed, and began to pace. He did not know why, but he felt like he was beginning to be harsh on his commanding officer. No, he thought. He was telling it like it is. Then he heard the Lieutenant say that he was needed. He smirked and thought to himself that he hoped his Lieutenant was less foolish in battle then he was with his words. He put the fag to his mouth once more, then he took it out and spat upon his index finger. With his index finger, he put the cigarette out, all the while, grimacing in pain. This was a testament to the tolerance the Sergeant had built for pain. Speirs then spoke. “Of course I am needed. Afterall, we have a draft going back in the states.”

[rspeirs]

Due to the fact that I have been moved to FoxTrot Company, Lt. Terry Scott and I have come to the joint concencus to have this topic locked.

We are sorry for the inconvenience this may pose to staff.

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Post

Guys, some advice here: Shorten your paragraphs a bit. This applies more so to Speirs, than Scott. Paragraphs are there for easy reading; 30 lines of words can seem a bit daunting to read without any gaps. Not giving out to ye, or anythin'; just advice.

CP:
Lieutenant Scott: You made some very long posts, so 7CP.

First Sergeant Speirs: Regardless of the lack of paragraphing, your posts were good so 7CP too.


~Dan