Post by MSG. Steven J. McMillan on Sept 28, 2008 21:57:34 GMT
Rolling back his sleeves, Steven mumbled beneath his breath a little, wondering when he’d get to see some action - he felt pretty bare, being left to mope around the barracks, hardly any of the men knew him and his recent fallout with Edward McMillan had caused quite a scene in the courtyard, which in turn had caused quite the stir and talk amongst the men. Was he lying? Was he Awol? Or was he actually telling the truth, in proclaiming to be this long lost relative, all the way from Ireland, on a journey to find someone he hadn’t even met; But only heard off. It was quite the tale to be sewing the truth in, but unfortunately, it was true.
Reaching out towards a small table in his bunk-room on the walk to the door, he grabbed his cigarettes and sighed heavily, upon stepping out into the corridor littered with corporals and privates. Most of which looked bored out of their brain, talking nonsense. Was this really war they was at? It seemed as if they all could be put to better use, than littering corridors; Or just maybe, higher up, they were having problems? Maybe the war was being lost by the Allies and soon enough, the Nazi Superpower would be invading their own home countries. Which in turn, would be a well suited explanation to why they hadn’t been shipped out to the frontlines already, as they would be used as reserves to defend the German Invaders. Shaking his head slightly, he pushed the far-fetched thoughts aside.
Making his way down the corridor, he nodded to a couple of the men that looked to him, as he scooted past their bodies cluttering the doorway into the mess-hall. Making that eventful sigh again, he looked around slowly and smirked a little as someone brushed past him in a hurry. “Well ain’t this just great…” he mumbled to himself quietly, feeling let down by the lack of a welcome he’d received as a Senior NCO. No one had shown him his billeting, but rather pointed at the general direction and no one had bothered to greet him. He hadn’t a clue what division he was assigned too and more so, who would be acting his commanding officer; In Steven’s mind, the place was either extremely unorganised or they were just putting up with having him there -- Most likely the case in his mind.
Working his way past a few more soldiers littering his path, he soon came to a quiet bench-table towards the corner of the room. Taking a seat, he glanced about vaguely to make sure no one was giving him the stare, before his hand made idle work in pulling out the small pack of cigarettes. Folding back the scrawny foil on top, he slipped one out and placed it against his lips, whilst he dropped the pack against the table; A small grin crossed his lips as he looked to the pack of cigarettes in front of him, that weren’t his anyway, as he felt his pockets for a lighter. Whoever he was sharing the bunk room with, had just lost their cigarettes and he couldn’t quite be bothered about it - he’d had a stressful couple of days and the only reasoning for staying at the barracks, was the mere thought of being shipped out into battle sometime soon. Out-there, you didn’t need to make friends…
Grumbling, he snatched the cigarette from off his lips and sat there with a miserable look upon his face. It seemed as if someone had snagged his lighter. Looking around, he twiddled the cigarette between his fingers, waiting to see if someone lit up a cigarette or dared to go outside for one…
OOC: Not a great thread to enter (nothing special), but Steven hasn’t met anyone yet and this is open to anyone.
Reaching out towards a small table in his bunk-room on the walk to the door, he grabbed his cigarettes and sighed heavily, upon stepping out into the corridor littered with corporals and privates. Most of which looked bored out of their brain, talking nonsense. Was this really war they was at? It seemed as if they all could be put to better use, than littering corridors; Or just maybe, higher up, they were having problems? Maybe the war was being lost by the Allies and soon enough, the Nazi Superpower would be invading their own home countries. Which in turn, would be a well suited explanation to why they hadn’t been shipped out to the frontlines already, as they would be used as reserves to defend the German Invaders. Shaking his head slightly, he pushed the far-fetched thoughts aside.
Making his way down the corridor, he nodded to a couple of the men that looked to him, as he scooted past their bodies cluttering the doorway into the mess-hall. Making that eventful sigh again, he looked around slowly and smirked a little as someone brushed past him in a hurry. “Well ain’t this just great…” he mumbled to himself quietly, feeling let down by the lack of a welcome he’d received as a Senior NCO. No one had shown him his billeting, but rather pointed at the general direction and no one had bothered to greet him. He hadn’t a clue what division he was assigned too and more so, who would be acting his commanding officer; In Steven’s mind, the place was either extremely unorganised or they were just putting up with having him there -- Most likely the case in his mind.
Working his way past a few more soldiers littering his path, he soon came to a quiet bench-table towards the corner of the room. Taking a seat, he glanced about vaguely to make sure no one was giving him the stare, before his hand made idle work in pulling out the small pack of cigarettes. Folding back the scrawny foil on top, he slipped one out and placed it against his lips, whilst he dropped the pack against the table; A small grin crossed his lips as he looked to the pack of cigarettes in front of him, that weren’t his anyway, as he felt his pockets for a lighter. Whoever he was sharing the bunk room with, had just lost their cigarettes and he couldn’t quite be bothered about it - he’d had a stressful couple of days and the only reasoning for staying at the barracks, was the mere thought of being shipped out into battle sometime soon. Out-there, you didn’t need to make friends…
Grumbling, he snatched the cigarette from off his lips and sat there with a miserable look upon his face. It seemed as if someone had snagged his lighter. Looking around, he twiddled the cigarette between his fingers, waiting to see if someone lit up a cigarette or dared to go outside for one…
OOC: Not a great thread to enter (nothing special), but Steven hasn’t met anyone yet and this is open to anyone.
