North or South!?

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan stood up and gripped his rifle strap over his shoulder and watched as the Corporal got his gear together as well. He stepped towards the barn door and peered out. He knew they wouldn't be able to get far but they had to try to at least get closer to their objective.

"Corporal, we need to steer clear of this field obviously, thanks for gathering the Intel on the minefield." He said it with a slight chuckle but hoped he didn't strike a nerve with his statement. "I figure we will head due south, we can get the furthest along this terrain before it becomes impassable in the dark. Stay about ten meters behind me, give or take and if it gets to dark to see much before we stop, get closer but try to stay far enough back that a single grenade won't end us both. Routinely check behind you for enemy soldiers. Try not to leave your rifle pointed at my back so you don't get startled and make more work for yourself and I'll do my best to not put us in a situation for that to happen, deal?" It was a somewhat rhetorical question but McMillan still hoped for an answer before he stepped out into the unknown.

[✚ Peter T. Brannigan]

Standing idle for a moment, his nimble fingers coiling around the cumbersome wood to his short stocky rifle, holding a punch strong enough to knock a ‘Germ’ of his feet, Peter felt confident enough to take on the subordinate role of soldiering with the First Sergeant, a respectable man in his field. The Tech. Corporal’s eyes watching McMillan carefully as he spoke, as if his eyes also read secretive signs the male gave off, as extra orders.

Abruptly giving a nod, the Corporal ruffled a hand into his canopy pack, a small pouch hanging at his side from off his belt, holstering clips of bullets for his rifle. Withdrawing one, Peter hastily clunked a clip into his Semi-Automatic rifle, before clunking the chamber into place. “Yes Sergeant, I’ve got you covered” Peter confidently said, as he threw back the rifle against his shoulder to rest, his hand comfortably resting around the wooden grip - not far from the trigger, resourcefully sorting the problem to ‘not’ shooting his Senior NCO in the back.

Dragging it out a little, the Medical Corp soon lisped out “Deal, lead the way Mac” with a more friendly tone this time, shedding a vague smile beneath his confident exterior, awaiting the next move…

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan thought Peter seemed eager, but not the reckless kind, either eager or anxious. Either way he could tell that the Corporal was ready for the task at hand, more ready than most would be in fact. After all, it was just the two of them against the unknown. McMillan didn't know many people and Peter, through his statements and posture, was at the top of his list for people to fight alongside.

McMillan swung his rifle off of his shoulder and placed the butt of the carbine into the pocket between his chest and his right shoulder. He stepped out a little further, keeping his knees bent as to remain agile if need be and to also become a smaller target, he knew that Peter was bright enough to follow his lead. "Well, let's move out. He said it quietly under his breath but with enough volume to be heard by the Corporal.

[✚ Peter T. Brannigan]

The Sergeant seemed a little hesitant to begin with? As the slow step out of the barn worried the Corporal who presumably stood in the open, not initially seeing anything when he had a quick look around on exiting the barn. But did the Sergeant see something he didn’t? Either way, the good Corporal shrugged the eerie feeling from off his shoulders and soon enough the Sergeant stepped out quietly, ready to take the lead.

“Sarg” Peter said in confirmation to McMillan’s order on moving out, the Corporal not following for a few seconds, as he slowly twisted on the heels to his boots, looking off behind them with a firm stare, his eyes narrowing to trail along the foliage line to the horizon, before twisting his body to follow behind McMillan. Peter did indeed keep a small gap between them, to start with, before now and again he’d turn around and take a few steps backwards, making sure no one had them zeroed in…

A soft sigh left his lips, as he loosened one of his hands from the wooden grip to scratch his chest, already getting a little warm from the firm casual pace they had. The Corporal remained deadly silent, but now and again let out a slight ‘Cough’ or ‘Clearing of the throat’ just to let McMillan know he was still alive, still following… Again, the gap began to widen between the Sergeant and the Corporal, as Peter done as he was told, checking behind them every now and again, taking a good three to five steps backwards, wavering his gun off behind them, looking into the distance, making sure their rear flank was covered.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan tried to keep a steady pace but with just a medic along side him he tended to slow down all to often when something didn't look right or the wind direction changed. Every so often he would glance over his shoulder to check on Peter. He was doing a good job, better than expected actually. McMillan was glad of the fact that he had recently been issued his new carbine over that heavy and bulky Enfield, just made life a lot easier.

If they were able to bed down for the night without having to fight for it McMillan would be surprised, but who knows they may just be on the right path to walk right through a small gap in the German defenses. One could never plan such a maneuver but getting lucky is always nice. McMillan just realized that when he had gone to the Armory to receive his new bundle of joy, they messed up the paperwork and he had to stay longer than expected, resulting in his lapse of memory, he had never gotten that huge hole patched up in his sleeping bag. Oh well, to late to worry, and probably won't get that much sleep anyway.

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

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