Post by pikey on Mar 2, 2008 17:02:47 GMT
The barrack was never a quiet place, except at night, and Friedrich was finding it hard to absorb himself in his newspaper. Annoyed, he tossed the paper down onto his desk and jumped down from his metal framed bunk.
He stepped out of his room and headed down the hallway, nodding to Naga as they passed one another. Friedrich stepped down, out of the wooden hut and crossed the muddy courtyard. He had little to do, but the Mess hall was open and he could do with some coffee, even if it was made from acorns.
He entered into the hall, and found it strangely empty for a rainy Saturday afternoon. Friedrich walked over to the steaming jug and poured himself a mug’s worth of the watery brown mixture. It fills a hole, but does little else thought the Hauptgefreiter. He turned, but his forearm caught something and the scalding coffee was sent flying. Friedrich instinctively turned his head away, and shut his eyes. The liquid ran over his hand and stung it painfully. He looked back and stared at his burning hand.
He glanced upwards and saw what, or rather who he had bumped into. The man was slightly younger than himself and was clearly trying to challenge him.
“What are you going do about it?” he asked, smirking. Friedrich was only wearing a vest on his upper half, and had no insignia to prove his rank. He threw down the cup and advanced mincingly on the man, fists clenched.
He stepped out of his room and headed down the hallway, nodding to Naga as they passed one another. Friedrich stepped down, out of the wooden hut and crossed the muddy courtyard. He had little to do, but the Mess hall was open and he could do with some coffee, even if it was made from acorns.
He entered into the hall, and found it strangely empty for a rainy Saturday afternoon. Friedrich walked over to the steaming jug and poured himself a mug’s worth of the watery brown mixture. It fills a hole, but does little else thought the Hauptgefreiter. He turned, but his forearm caught something and the scalding coffee was sent flying. Friedrich instinctively turned his head away, and shut his eyes. The liquid ran over his hand and stung it painfully. He looked back and stared at his burning hand.
He glanced upwards and saw what, or rather who he had bumped into. The man was slightly younger than himself and was clearly trying to challenge him.
“What are you going do about it?” he asked, smirking. Friedrich was only wearing a vest on his upper half, and had no insignia to prove his rank. He threw down the cup and advanced mincingly on the man, fists clenched.
