/wfg/ Writefag General- following Jap laws edition

Okay, Red Sunrise update is finished. I'll go upload this to pastebin tomorrow, tired as hell right now.

The crisp autumn wind blows across my face, carrying the scent of maple along. The leaves on the trees were a beautiful copper brown, glowing magnificently as the setting sun’s rays meets them. Relaxing on the bench in the park, I watch as the sun slowly sink under the Pacific Ocean.

>‘American sunsets really are as pretty in the movies.’ I think.

Interrupting the serenity of the sunset, my watch alarm began to beep thrice, over and over, reminding me that I was due for patrol duties.

>‘Tsk, already?’ I say aloud, glancing at my watch.

Standing, I turn to gaze at the war-torn town, a stark difference from the beautiful scenery in the opposite direction. Small fires burned in homes and buildings, illuminating them like candles in the dimming light. Bodies littered the streets, bloodstains everywhere. Bullet impacts left holes through every building in town. The schoolhouse had collapsed from intense shelling, and there was hardly any intact glass panes left anywhere in the town.

Sighing, I bent over to pick up my AKS-74u before beginning the trek back to the airbase.

-----

Walking up the road, I see that the checkpoint into the base was riddled with bullet holes; concrete barriers resisting multiple impacts from large-caliber rounds. Fifteen-foot concrete walls line the airbase, blocking crosswinds, and displaying crimson artwork. Upon reaching the checkpoint, I was greeted by dead American soldiers who had died defending their posts. I shooed the crows away from their bodies.

>‘Every soldier deserves a burial. This is shameful.’ I mutter under my breath.

Attached: Sunset.jpg (720x540, 204K)

Wrecked American vehicles littered the entrance to the airbase. Bits of M1026 HMMWV were littered about, likely exploded from a 125mm HE round. A M2 Bradley sat facing the entrance, TOW launcher deployed. Upon closer inspection, one could see that both tubes were empty, in addition to a small hole in the front of the IFV, which led though the Cummins VTA-903T 8-cylinder diesel engine, and into the crew compartment. Hastily placed sandbags and cartridge casings were strewn about, pieces of American disintegrating belts piled next to them.

Before I could take another step into the base, a spotlight illuminated me with it’s blindingly bright light. I heard the loud ‘CHIK-CHUK’ of a DShK charging handle being racked.
>‘State your rank, name, and reason for being here!’ Someone ordered.

Raising my hand to shield my eyes from the light, I reply,

>‘Captain Chenkov, here for patrol sortie!’

>‘Oh, apologies, Captain! It’s protocol around here now. American rebels have been wearing our uniforms to infiltrate and sabotage us. Be careful, Captain!’ He says, before shutting off the searchlight.

Blinking rapidly, I wordlessly nod and briskly walk to the tarmac, where my Mi-24 Krokodil awaited. Mi-8s and Mi-28s sat waiting to be rearmed and refueled, coming back from the frontlines with battle damage, some as severe as missing an entire stub wing, and nearly all suffering shrapnel damage.

My gunner, 2nd Lieutenant Sokolov, was undergoing preflight checkups on the outer weapon pylons, as the 2 twin flight technicians, Alexei and Anatoly Ivanov, loaded more 7.62x54R belts into the troop compartment.

Reaching the Krokodil, I greeted the three, and climbed into the armored cockpit of ‘Veronika’. Donning my helmet, I plugged into the Krokodil’s radio system, as Sokolov entered the gunner’s cockpit.

Attached: Mi-24_cockpit.jpg (1022x600, 106K)

>‘Radio check, report in!’ I say.

>‘Alexei, locked and loaded!’

>‘Anatoly, buckled in!’

Sokolov turned around in his gunner’s cockpit and gave me a thumbs-up as he spoke.

>‘Sokolov, seated!’

>‘Very well! Preflight checklist. What are our arms for today, Sokolov?’ I ask.

>‘Yak-B 12.7mm, 20 S-8DM HE rockets, 20 S-8S Flechette rockets, 2 FAB-250s, and 4 9K114 Shturm missiles.’ Sokolov reports.

The Ivanov twins cut in simultaneously, adding,

>‘Don’t forget about us! We’re on the PKBs back here too!’

I chuckle at their antics. Although quirky, the twins were invaluable in Chechnya and in the mountains of Afghanistan.

>‘Starting her up!’ I say as I power up ‘Veronika’. ‘Engine 1, check!’

>‘Confirmed power Engine 1!’ He responds.

>‘Engine 2, check!’

>‘Confirmed power Engine 2!’ He repeats. ‘Fuel pressure is looking good! Hydraulics, good!’

>‘Bringing her up!’ I say, raising the clutch.

I felt ‘Veronika’s’ power as she began to lift off. Like a predatory animal, the Krokodil rises from the tarmac.

The rattling of the cockpit comforts me as we circle the base. Our Krokodil wasn’t equipped for night operations, but command had ordered us to patrol due to the frequency of the guerilla attacks increasing exponentially during the night. Knowing they had the advantage of surprise and darkness, they struck during the night, effectively halting all convoys during night hours. Without aerial coverage, resupply convoys refused to move in guerilla-occupied territory.

>“Sokolov, you’re navigating. Where’s the convoy at?” I ask.

>“Uh, 3 kilometers east-northeast, bearing 067.” Sokolov says, his head buried in a map.

>“Affirmative, adjusting course.”

I banked ‘Veronika’ to the correct bearing, while listening to the Ivanov twins’ rendition of ‘Katusha’.

Attached: Mi-24_dusk-takeoff.jpg (1152x787, 662K)

>“Oj ty, pesnia, pesenka devichia, Ty leti za iasnym solntsem vsled. I bojtsu na dalnem pograniche. Ot Katyushi peredaj privet.”

They were terribly off-tune, but I joined in anyways.

>“Pust on vspomnit devushku prostuiu, Pust uslyshit, kak ona poet, Pust on zemliu berezhet rodnuiu, A liubov Katyusha sberezhet.”

>“Can you keep it off the radio?! I’m trying to plot our route!” Sokolov complained angrily.

>“Come on, Sokolov! Have some fun! You don’t need to be so uptight all the time! Sing with us!” Alexei shouted.

Off-tune Russian singing continued all the way to the convoy.

----

>“There! To the right! That’s the convoy!” Sokolov shouted over the radio.

The winding forest road snaked back and forth, my eyes following every curve until I saw the red tail lights of the convoy.

>“I see it. I see it.” I confirm.

>“Where? Where?” Anatoly asks.

>“On the road, where it snakes back and forth like an S. There’s a rock outcropping above them now. You can’t miss it!” I say, guiding him to the convoy.

>“Got it!” He responds cheerfully.

>“Alright, searchlights on! Let’s make sure these supplies make it to the frontlines, to our comrades. They are depending on us!” I order.

>“Yes, Captain.” came the unanimous reply.

Over the radio, the convoy contacted us.

>“This is 1st Lieutenant Volzhynsky. It’s nice to have you watching over us.”

>“Likewise. We’ll give our best. Chenkov out.” I radio back.

The order to move was given, and the convoy began down the winding country road.

Attached: Searchlight.jpg (852x480, 10K)

----youtube.com/watch?v=lDQ7hXMLxGc----

>“900 litres of fuel left, Captain!” Sokolov informs me.

Glancing down at the fuel gauge, I confirm his readings. I tap the gauge twice, just to be sure.

>“Very well. Raise Volzhynsky, tell him we’re off to refuel.” I order.

>“Convoy, this is Monolith-7, we are approaching bingo fuel, over.”
>“Requesting permission to RTB and refuel, over.”

>“Monolith-7, this is Badger Actual, Permission granted.”

Sokolov informs us over the internal helicopter comms that we are free to RTB and refuel.

Banking ‘Veronika’ right, we begin to peel off from the convoy. The Ivanov twins continue to scan with their PKB-mounted spotlights even as I bring ‘Veronika’ to bear towards the airbase.

>“Too bad nothing ever happens.” Alexei says.

>“Shut up, you’re going to jinx something.” Anatoly retorts.

Before I or Sokolov could butt into their conversation, an explosion could be heard behind us, followed by a frantic radio call for help.

>“Monolith-7! Monolith-7! This is Badger Actual! We’ve been attacked! Get back here!” Volzhynsky ordered.

Performing another turn, I brought ‘Veronika’ into a attack run towards the convoy. The lead BTR-80 was aflame whilst green and red tracers exchanged fire. The white streak of AT rockets flew into the convoy from a rocky outcrop as 14.5mm tracers flew into the forest. The rear BMP’s autocannon laid high-explosive rain into the surrounding forest, firing wildly. Another barrage of white AT rockets struck multiple GAZ trucks carrying ammunition, causing them to cook off.

>“Sokolov! Suppress that outcrop! Alexei! They’re going to be on your side! Open fire!” I order, unlocking the master safe on the S-8 rockets.

>BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT

Attached: Tracers.jpg (3415x1862, 1.44M)

Yellow tracers fill my vision as the Yak-B fired, unleashing a 3 second burst. Alexei’s PKB started firing not long after, the green tracers bouncing off the rock, sending them flying in all directions.

I let loose 3 rockets from each pod.

>FWHAPF
>FWHAPF
>FWAHPF

The HE S-8DM blew chunks out of the outcrop as the S-8S flechette rockets airburst, sending thousands of tiny flechettes out into the forest. Sokolov let loose another burst of 12.7mm from the Yak-B chaingun as I passed over the guerilla’s position. Circling around for another pass, Anatoly began to fire his PKB, cackling like a psychopath.

An alarm began to blare in the cockpit, a red light indicating that there was a Stinger missile inbound. With superhuman speed, my hand found the button to eject magnesium flare decoys. Launching 3 sets of flares, I watched the heat-seeking missile dip down, and go after the decoy.

>“Sokolov! Did you see where that came from?! Anatoly!?” I yelled.

Anatoly’s laughing was all I could hear from the cabin, as Sokolov frantically searched for the origin of the MANPAD launch.

>“There! By that clump of trees!”

A burst of yellow tracer fire punctuated his sentence. Sure enough, I spotted a faint vapor trail above where he fired. Once again bringing ‘Veronika’ to bear, I unleashed a barrage of S-8DM rockets, flattening that area.

All three guns firing, I made another pass over the rock formation that the guerrillas were spotted at, and dropped a FAB on it. The 250lb bomb sent chunks of rock flying into the sky, some potentially striking our Krokodil.

Attached: Mi-24.jpg (900x506, 107K)

Much of the fighting had died down, the guerillas melting back into the forest. About 30% of the convoy was destroyed, with another 4 vehicles disabled.

Another warning alarm beeped, clamoring for my attention. It read ‘Fuel low’.

>“Sokolov, tell the convoy we must RTB.”

>“Badger Actual, this is Monolith-7. Come in, over.”

>“Monolith-7, this is Badger Actual. Thank you for the assistance, you saved many lives.”

>“Badger, we are black on fuel and munitions. We cannot remain in this airspace any longer. We are returning to base. Over.”

>“Good copy, Monolith, Badger out.”

------

And that's my rendition of Project: Red Sunrise. I've been working on some stories that grandfather told me in his time as a child soldier in the CIA-funded SGU.

Attached: Mi-24_3.jpg (1500x1000, 235K)

I wanna Grippen! But wouldn't it be Saab that's lewd, since they're the ones that make the Grippen?

I thought Jane was from the '30s. Shouldn't she know about the telephone? Still, good stuff. How's that AI holding up?

Please don't give up. I gave up the writefaggotry before, and haven't really been able to get back into it since. It's fun, but you don't have to despair.

I wanna read it!

Nice! Glad the Western and Eastern allies aren't too bitter about the Cold War. There's medieval equipment, but is there anything from Cold War?

What about the six and eight wheel drive vehicles the Germans had? Didn't they have all wheel steering as well?

Phrasing!

(That concludes posts meant for last thread)

It's pretty good. I enjoyed how you showed the combat. Maybe the Colonial Marines can learn something from it.

Pretty nice. A few things I think I noticed. The gunner's cockpit of the Mi-24 is really tight. Can't even scratch your leg. It'd be hard for Sokolov to turn around and wave if he was buckled in. Guess he could if he wasn't strapped up yet and the cockpit was open. And if I remember correctly, the Mi-24 cockpit warnings are a woman's voice. But other than those, I really liked this, even though it's commies beating up Wolverines.

Attached: 1513431801910.jpg (800x1034, 1.19M)

Yes. From the late pre-war era. I don't think a phone was in EVERY house at that time in Germany, however from the statistics I sifted through after looking at the phones popularity to come up with a justification to deflect with, it appears that in America at the time, there was one phone for every five americans, and AT&T actually stands for American Telegraph and Telephone company, which I did not know. Bottom line, the phones ring differently than they used to. Used to be that beep, now they're a much higher beep, we used to have an imitation rotary phone that had an actual bell, real rotary phones had an even faster bell that I think made a lower ring, my dad had a party line when he was a kid... good times.

Attached: image.jpg (1000x1343, 116K)

Bump

Attached: 1522109788405.gif (500x500, 2.41M)

Still, though, I'm finding it a bit hard to believe a German woman from the late '30s freaking out from a modern phone. If her family didn't have one, she must have heard of one. But, it's probably you and I imagining the situation a bit differently. A different sounding bell may actually have startled her. Or maybe it played that bar from Gran Vals. I'd be surprised if a box that started randomly playing digital beeps in different tones didn't surprise anyone from the '30s. Anyway, it's a very minor thing and isn't detracting from my enjoyment of the story. Isn't everyday you get to talk about literature you enjoy with the people who write it.

Attached: 1513262110544.jpg (1280x671, 304K)

the privates are censored
hehehehe

We're you asking for me last thread JD? What's up friend?

i think he meant this alabama

Attached: 1519338372438.png (5120x5120, 2.1M)

nope, excuse me, that would be Nevada. Here is bama

Attached: 1519340336637.png (3400x4100, 2.58M)

Ah... Well that's embarrassing.

Southern Magnolia blossom in her hair is a nice touch.

very much so

>writing page up and page down, wishing i could draw instead

The amount of insanity going on is quite the fun right!

Fuuuuuuuuck, can't wait for the action to begin! The hype is growing.

Nice to see this story continues to be worked on. Its nice that it's different from the other stories that get passed around here.

Very good stuff, JD. A good war story, even as fiction, is an enjoyable read...even if you're writing from the enemy's perspective :p

I wish I had artistic talent too. I could never draw much. Have a few friends that are very good. I've heard so long as you keep practicing you will continually improve, like singing.

Funny you should say that, when i tried my dad said the UN has a relolution against torture

Attached: please end my suffering.png (514x370, 230K)

resolution* for fucks sake

damn son, higurashi sure is spooky
ep12 right now and i still have no clue whats happening. and the 'resetting' really doesn't help

might as well post this again
>pastebin.com/Y9eLEvJB
new chapter of night at the kriegsmuseum, for anyone who didn't see it at the end of the last thread

thanks bb
are you putting this in your pastebin?

Just remember; it's based off of a multiple branch visual novel. It's very trippy, but I really enjoyed it. It helped me to think of each reset as a parallel universe. My mind processed it a bit better. I think it is a better anime adaptation of a multiple branch visual novel.

I refer you to:

Attached: 1513521471089.jpg (3500x1602, 2.2M)

i don't see why i can't put cold war geists in there somewhere. i'll just need to read up on the cold war first

Yay! I can't wait to see X Cold War Geist arguing with Y Cold War Geist about various points of whatever. But they can't physically fight, unless it's boxing, because Cold War and Rocky 4 or something...

Attached: 1513588551797.jpg (2400x1903, 1.64M)

Uh yes hi , you got a +2 greatsword and some potions of bull's strength?

at long last, chapter 4 is finally here. sorry about the long delay guys; hope you didn't forget me or think i quit.

current chapter paste
pastebin.com/bmVA3Xib

for those wanting to start at the very begining
fanfiction.net/s/12830548/1/A-Mandate-from-Heaven

-----

The next morning I gathered all the supplies I had and needed for a ten day expedition in-country. Our team was going by its new call sign now, Jian-one. Jia's Jian. It was a very apt play on words, fitting for our current mission.

Our first mission was planned to be a boring one. Hei Bai was to provide overwatch on a farming village where there was a high chance of a terrorist raid taking place. In other words, we were to baby sit Hei Bai for a few days while he was glued to his binoculars and directed the cavalry over the radio in the even that anything actually happened.

Nevertheless, I made ready for our excursion. I packed light – not that I had much to pack anyway. None of us did. One of the few things that almost all experienced members of the military have in common is a strong sense of perfectionism and a type-A personality. Keep everything organized. Less is more. It was also one of the things that set Hei Bai apart from the rest of us. I have never seen a more type-B personality in my life. He went into the field with us carrying a fully loaded rucksack with enough useless equipment for just about any scenario possible. I didn't think someone so wiry could carry so much weight, but somehow he managed it. It seems obvious in retrospect, but maybe we should have all had our eyes opened when we saw this. It was the first red flag about Hei Bai. We all should have seen the others after it.

Attached: 1463026221821.jpg (670x503, 38K)

We rolled out of the FOB at 0830. We took a modified truck designed to withstand buried mines; mines where becoming an increasingly popular weapon for the enemy in these parts. The top half of the satomobile had been removed – the Jians found that in the case of an ambush the trucks armored canopy turned it into a cramped death trap. Odds were better to just bail and retreat on foot. Still, riding in one feels incredibly exposed. I rode to the rear of the vehicle, keeping my rifle level and scanning for threats. Next to me sat Peng, who kept to himself. He wore a large yellow-black checkered bandanna, wrapped around his neck like a scarf. It was combat memorabilia, just like my gloves; a reminder that he had fought sand-benders in the Si Wong desert. In the dessert it kept sun off your neck, but out here it kept the biting flies off.

And how the flies bit! They were completely silent but would come round and round to pinch with their mouth-parts. These flies were relentless and impossible to deter. It felt like being stabbed with a redhot needle. I take immeasurable solace in that their bites did not itch afterwards as a mosquito's does.

"How do you bear it?" asked Buno of all people at long last. "I've tracked up and down the brush of this land my whole life and even I still cannot bear these flies"

Though he did not open his mouth, Chang's shoulders heaved in laughter, "you may have been born here, but to these flies you are still all foreigners. I suppose your blood is like a delicacy to them."

Peng lit a cigarette, took a puff, and then passed it to Chang. "The smoking does help, too," Chang said, "they hate the smell more than I do."

Two miles from our OP we disembarked and hiked our way through the dense tall grass to the top of the hill; it was important that not even the farmers we were protecting knew of our location. The first thing we did when we got to set our equipment down and begin clearing a space to camp with our machetes. Hei Bai and Chang worked together to set up a large thermal imager on top of a tripod. He got on the radio when we were done and said, "Jian-Actual, this is Jian-One. We are grey on the rock."

This was spec-ops jargon that is fairly irregular among even those who have served in the military. The 'grey' dealt with the level covertness of an operation. White-Ops were completely overt. Grey-Ops were ops that were not illegal or operation outside of one's jurisdiction, but a low profile was still required. Black-Ops were operations that were completely covert. There was also another color code that would be added in front of the white-grey-black color code if the situation was called. That was Red, like the color of blood – guess what happens on Red-Ops. Lastly, there was the phrase 'on the rock.' The 'rock' simply referred to the ground, meaning that a unit had successfully infiltrated and was in position for the operation to begin.

"What do you mean, grey?" said Koko, looking genuinely disappointed.

"Grey," said Hei Bai, "like in between but neither black nor white. Like, grey."

Koko pouted, "Ah, man. I was hoping we'd get some action, sir. We're not gonna go on a whole deployment without getting' to dispatch some baddies, are we?"

"Not up to me. That's up to the baddies," Hei Bai said. "You're not bored already, are you?"

"No, sir!"

"good." He turned to the rest of us, "If you want to keep yourself busy, you can go freely anywhere on the hill. Stay within range of radio contact at all times. There must be at least two people on the OP at any given time. Maintain noise discipline at all times, and maintain light discipline after sundown."

It wasn't just a nicety that he was extending to us. We weren't in enemy territory; the more we moved around the hill the less suspicious and more civilian we'd look. It'd also be a lot harder for the enemy to sneak up on us if we were constantly and randomly moving.

Nothing much happened that night. Hei Bai maintained unwavering attention to the villages through the sights of his thermal imager. Koko zipped around the OP on her air-scooter, or used it to sled to the bottom of the hill. Chang field stripped and cleaned his rifle. Peng sat away from everyone else and smoked.

Me, I watched Jia's sunset. It was strong and shimmering, a proud red sun surrounded by a heavenly gold halo as it crawled across the faded purple pastels of the Jian sky, setting behind the countryside's fertile green hills. I think maybe I understood why so many had come here, why so many had run away from their previous lives to start over.

The next three days were uneventful. Buno and I had one thing in common: we slept at all times possible. On the fourth day I woke up to find that Buno had completely disappeared without anyone seeing him leave. Three hours later he returns with four freshly killed possum-chickens.

"Hiro, Koko: get to work on a fire. Make sure there's no smoke. It needs to be out before sundown," Hei Bai ordered.

While we started the fire Chang and Buno got busy with skinning the possum-chickens. We roasted them on a spit over the open flame. Not exactly gourmet, but if you've spent the last four days eating freeze-dried hermetically sealed 'food' that was packaged before you were born and isn't set to expire until sometime after you're probably dead, then chicken-possum is delicious.

"So," Koko asked Chang, "don't you live in a village like this one?"

"Yes, my family does. The government has just answered our request to start a farm of our very own. It will be good for us to own our farm; there are even some Water Tribe member only a few klicks from us if we have trouble with irrigation."

"Aren't you worried," I asked, "with all this trouble going around?"

"It is troubling, but I have tought my wife to shoot and look after the home in my abscence. she can take care of herself. Besides, I am of an important family in my tribe. Now that I can own a head of cattle, I can finally show off my status to the other villages. It's common in my culture to take a second wife to show this as well, but," he laughed, "a farm seems like much less trouble to be in."

"Don't be so sure," said Buno. "these criminals that claim to be fighting the Water Tribe have hurt or killed a lot more of their own people so far, all in the name of the greater good."

The greater good.

It's amazing how meaningless that could be, and how both sides at any given time could invoke its name to ward away evil spirits.

Contact came at 0700 the next day

The first things we heard were the distant sounds of gunshots. It wasn't an unfamiliar sound, and every one of us did a double take at the noise.

"Go time, people!" shouted Hei Bai. "Everyone on me."

Hei Bai jumped onto his thermal imager and began looking at the village below, then took a reading with his laser range-finder. Chang started looking through his set of binoculars

"They're… They're killing the farmers!" said Chang. "We need to do something! We need to get down there!"

"Hold your ground, Chang." Hei Bai said. He turned to his radio. "Jian-Actual this is Jian-One. We have confirmed sighting of fifty plus hostile foot-mobiles in village to the South-East of our location. How copy?"

*Bzzzzt* "Solid copy, Jian-One. Reinforcements are on their way – ETA five minutes. Wolf-bats are already in the air and are being redirected to your location. ETA one minute. You are to remain at OP and direct Wolf-Bat till reinforcements arrive. You will then direct the landing zones for reinforcements to provide stops and a sweep line. How copy?" *Bzzzzt*

"Solid copy, Jian-Actual. Jian-One out." He turned to us. "We're going to hold this hill and call down the pain on the insurgents."

I looked over my shoulder and saw it coming in low and fast. A small powered glider, armed with rockets and machine guns – the wolf-bat. From our OP I could see tactics the Jians used in action. Jian-Actual had patched in Hei Bai to speak directly with the wolf-bat's pilot. Hei Bai guided it in over the hilltop straight to the heart of the insurgent's current position. a wispy trail of smoke fwooshed from the wolf-bat as it fired a rocket at roughly the middle of the insurgents on the edge of the village. The wolf-bat fired another rocket at the same target and a dense purple smoke marked the area. The wolf-bat came around for several more passes at the stunned enemies with the staccato bursts of its machine guns.

Two minutes passed. I looked up just in time to see a fleet of aircraft pass over head. These ones were called auto-gyros. They had a propeller in front, just like a regular powered glider. However, instead of two wings, they had three. These wings were on top of the fuselage instead of the side, arranged like spokes on a wheel. They were free to spin like a wheel as well. As the propeller pulled the auto-gyro forward, the wind passing through the wings caused them to spin, generating lift. They weren't very fast, but then again that was the point. They could go so slow without stalling that the squad they were carrying could jump out of them from low altitude and remain unharmed. A lot cheaper and safer than riding in a 'humming bird,' too.

The doctrine followed by the Jians would make an airbender proud. The soldiers assigned to counter-insurgency were lean, light, fast, and highly mobile. The first auto-gyro to come in was a gunship. It carried a machine-cannon – a weapon similar to a machine gun but firing 20mm exploding shells. This weapon was operated by a door gunner and mounted on the left side, meaning that the pilot could only make left hand turns it engaged the enemy. The gunship saw the smoke, pulled up to an altitude of three hundred meters, and began orbiting the battlefield. The gunner fired his cannon at fleeing troops in bursts of three. As he fired there was a noticeable delay between the report and the impact.

*DAKADAKADAKA*

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

*DAKADAKADAKA*

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

After action assessments were studied meticulously and they showed a consistent behavior among the insurgents. Once reinforcements showed up, they would 'bombshell,' scattering in all directions and then escape to regroup later. The Wolf-bat's job was to scare them long enough for the reinforcements to get into position and use the smoke to mark the center of their bombshell. The pilot of the gunship used this to figure out the best center of orbit, but the pilot had to be very skilled to succeed: AAAs also found out that the insurgents moved at an average of 150 to 200 meters per minute. The pilot had to constantly widen the center of his holding pattern.

Next came troop transports. They came in low and orbited the perimeter of the town at an altitude of only ten meters. One by one, Hei Bai radioed the first four and told them the best places to set down their troops. These troops were to form stop lines. A panicked fleeing enemy would, in most cases, try to follow the natural terrain such as ditches, riverbeds, or the valleys between the foothills. The next two transports carried the troops that would form the sweep line. This line would start at end of the village and slowly work its way across from one to the other, killing or capturing all insurgents that were trying to hide or were caught inside the village by the stop lines.

Once they dropped off their troops, the transports would fly away to closest incoming convoy of reinforcements, scoop up some riflemen from their trucks, and fly back to the village to get them to the fight even faster. It was remarkable to me how quickly the Water Tribe came up with these tactics, and let no one doubt that in practice these tactics were devastating to the troublemakers. But nothing was ever perfect. And nothing ever went according to plan, either. Five minutes after the sweep line set down, we got the call.

*Bzzzt* "Jian-One, this is Jian-Actual. The sweep line has taken a casualty and is requesting aide to fill the line. Move rapidly to grid-square provided and continue the assault according to our time-table. the gunship and wolf-bat will take over as combat controllers and forward observer, respectively. How copy."

"Solid copy, Jian-Actual. Alright boys and girls, it's show time!"

Koko charged her rifle, "lock and load baby! Woo hoo!"

The five of us leapt to our feet and began vaulting down the hill, heed to the sound of gunfire coming from the village below us. Wait, did I say five? There should be si—

"Out of the way, pretty boy!"

dodged to the side just in time to avoid Peng as he raced down the hill at break-neck speeds using his earthbending like a mountain board beneath his feet.

I looked at Hei Bai. Hei Bai looked at me.

He shouted, "Koko!"

"On it, sir," she responded. She summoned an air-scooter and flew down the hill to catch up to Peng. I guess two is one and one is none, after all.

Fifteen second later, the rest of Jian-One reached the skirmish line. Koko and Peng were taking a knee and securing the area. With a wave of his arms Peng had erected an earthen berm to provide us cover.

Hei Bai spoke, "Form a line. Three meter spread. Guns up. Keep visual contact of the people on your left and right at all times. We'll move as fast as we can while staying together until we catch up with the line. Be ready for anything."

The pace was slow. One step at a time we waded through chest high grass. The insurgents could be anywhere at any time. We could hear the sound of sound of gunfire all around us, but these were just ambient noises like the sound of cicadas in the summer. Then I heard a snap and everyone instinctively dropped to their knee. The bang of gunfire isn't what you need to watch out for; the snap, however, is the sound of a bullet flying past your head.

We continued moving forward through the grass in a duck walk. Every so often, one of us would stand up and take pot shots at figures running through the grass. Then things go frantic. Point blank range, two insurgents lying in wait leapt at us from the grass. The first was cut down in a hail of bullets. Just as I was caught reloading my rifle, the second lunged straight for me with a knife in one hand and the other hand in an open grasp. I threw my rifle behind me to keep him from grabbing it and put my hands up in front of me to counter. He came straight for my face with the knife. I leaned my head to the right. He slashed again. Leaned to the left. He stepped back. I shot a blast of fire at him. The earthbender blocked it with a wall of dirt and then lunged straight through it.

This time I parried his knife attack. A large windmill motion with my left hand pushed the knife away from my body. I followed through with the sweep, wrapping my arm around his, securing his between my armpit and elbow. I twisted my torso upward and there was a sickening crack as his elbow hyperextended. His head shot back in pain as he gasped, and I gave a chop with my right hand to his exposed neck. I shoved him away from me and got back into a defensive fighting stance. Immediately the man was tackled by Buno, and in quick succession Chang plunged his kukri straight through the man's heart.

"That was a close one," I said.

"Alright everybody," said Hei Bai, "let's get back on the line."

*BZZZZT* "This is Stopline Three to Jian-One. We just routed several insurgents. They look like they're headed you're way" *BZZZZT*

"Yeah," said Hei-Bai, "We're already well acquainted"

I turned around to grab my rifle and… it was gone.

Peng said, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I looked ups to see him holding my QBZ.

I walked over to grab it, "Thank you."

I held out my hand to accept it. He held the rifle out with one hand as if to hand it to me then dropped it at my feet and started to walk away.

"Peng! Hiro!" shouted Hei-Bai. "Do we have to start doing trust falls? Both of you get back on the line, now!"

The rest of the sweep remained unremarkable, though Buno made sure to put himself between the two of us from thereon out.

The rest of the evening felt excruciating in the sun. We swept with the line thru the village. every house. every shed, every drain, and every stone were cataloged and inspected for any signs of hiding insurgents. I wiped the sweat from my eyes, cursing myself for not working on my tan before coming here. And then the commander made us do it again. after about seven hours he felt satisfied with the inspection.

Police and gendarme had come from all over, intermingling with the military personnel, while ambulances awaited the engineers to fully clear roads to the hospital for mines. We had taken a few casualties, but the boys would pull through and be ready for action again in a few months time. A farmer and and his wife had been shot, both in critical condition. It didn't take the police long to figure out the ones responsible and drag them off to who knows where.

Those terrorists that had surrendered and survived were bloodied and sitting in a patch of dirt on the outskirts of the farmstead, surrounded by armed guards. There were about twenty or so of them. Hei Bai and Buno handed their weapons over to us and made their way thru the guards to the terrorists. squatting down at their level, Hei Bai produced his canteen and gave a particularly delerious looking captive a sip. Buno scanned each of the prisoners with his piercing eyes, looking for some clue or sign related to his police work, though I knew not what.

With the remaining water, Hei Bai gently teased it from the opening of canteen and floated it onto his hands. He coached a prisoner to lay supine and Hei Bai then laid his hands on the man, the water glowing as he began healing his wounds. It was certainly unusual for a male water bender to possess healing hands, but I don't know why that would surprise me anymore.

"Hei Bai, this man is the enemy," I had protested to him.

"Those we can convict of crimes will be punished. That's how it is. But many of these troublemakers are only fighting because their families have been kidnapped or they've been tortured for refusal. You know those machine cannon rounds the gunships shoot?"

"What about them?" I asked.

"We don't just fire in bursts to prevent accidents, we fire in bursts because at the end of the day they're expensive. It cost twenty thousand yuan for every insurgent we killed today, counting the fuel, the bullets, the maintenance, medical bills, and everything else. Yet we haven't managed to hurt our real enemy in the slightest, only his proxy."

Putting it in that perspective, I realized that our flawless military victory today was still a strategic failure.

"So the reason I am here is this," said Hei Bai. "I have not come to kill our enemy, but to persuade him. Give me the budget of just one single Fire Nation battle tank, and I will give you a pacified province."

I went to bed uneasy and exhausted, thinking about what Hei Bai had said. I was thankful to be sleeping on a cot instead of solid granite and I was grateful to be alive another day. But in Jia, it was just another Wednesday like any other.

-----

that's all folks!

Attached: islam.png (384x288, 136K)

I'm sure it wasn't that bad.

Phew, good shit. Hei Bai's leadership was pretty good.

Attached: 1486713930655.png (1285x646, 143K)

I want to write more, before writer's block sets in, but it's cold outside of my blanket. It's warm in here, and I don't wanna get up.

Attached: 1518500964649.jpg (850x1202, 140K)

Not bad...

I dunno if it was bad or not but who the fuck tells their 12 year old child their singing amounts to torture

A feel I know. I even decided I'm ruling without name for now

Attached: 1486714115072.png (1737x1309, 2.6M)

My dad and I give each other crap like that all the time. Granted I'm 25, but still.

>I dunno if it was bad or not but who the fuck tells their 12 year old child their singing amounts to torture
People who aren't urbanite yuppies that treat their children like invalids and shelter them from everything?

Uhhh, meaning everyone who isn't a yuppie says it's shit?

Attached: 1486930418797.png (2108x2000, 1.2M)

War Stories from 'The Secret War' - As told by my Grandfather.

He never spoke of the war much around me, but I caught a few snippets here and there. This is what I could piece together from what I heard.

This is dedicated to him, and I hope I do him justice.

“I was just a boy. My father, and my father’s father, and his father before him, were simple farmers. We only knew how to till the land, and to hunt for the family. We never had much, or anything of value. So when the communists came, and told us the ideals of sharing the wealth, that communism would make everyone equal, many agreed. But later, in the dark of night, Vang Pao’s men came. They told us the truth. That the communists told lies, that they would use us to gain wealth for themselves. It split the village.”

[Laos, 1962]

Many days had passed during our trek through the hav zoog. Led by three of Vang Pao’s men, about half of our village followed behind. We left our homes with only what we carried on our backs. We had heard stories of other villages burned down by the ‘[Pathet Lao]’.

>“There it is, up ahead. Do you see it, Cher?” My uncle asked.

>“The mountain?” I asked.

Shaking his head, he pointed towards the plateau, ensuring that he didn’t drop his sleeping four-year old daughter clinging onto his back.

>“No, the plateau. That’s it. Long Cheng. That’s where Vang Pao is.” He said.

Sure enough, I saw a massive plane take off. Even from this distance, I could see it was painted green, and it’s 4 engines spewed transparent black smoke.

----

There were people I had never seen before, people of white skin, neeg mikas, with blue eyes, and blonde hair. Some spoke in broken Lao, and some even in Hmong Der. I met with Xiav Ntuj, ‘Blue sky’. He was a pilot, one of those who flew the planes. I was told to report to the barracks at the end of the day. Every male from my village was told this as well.

Attached: Long_Tieng.jpg (800x641, 381K)

We were given housing in drywalled homes, the homes usually reserved for the rich. Even though it was communal housing, with a family of 12 in one room, it was luxury to us. We have never before seen cushions of this quality, nor could we afford them. We were provided with food from the American supply runs, and the women had begun working on stalls to sell commodities.

At sundown, they had all the men line up by the ridge by age. My uncle, the oldest of us at 20, was first. The Americans didn’t even measure him. They handed him an M1 Garand. We all watched curiously, as they instructed him on how to use the rifle.

>BANG
>BANG
>BANG

>PING!

We were all eager to try our hand at this.

I was 12 at the time. The way they determined what rifle we had, was by measuring us compared to the rifle. I was taller than the M16A1, but barely taller than the M14. They gave it to me anyways. They instructed me how to shoot it.

>“This is the safety. You need to take the safety off to shoot, or else it won’t fire.” The interpreter said.

>“This is for fully automatic. You shouldn’t use it unless you are in an emergency.”

>“Calm your breathing. Line up the sight through the hole. Breath.”

>BANG

>“Good job! You hit it!” I was told.

Little Kao, my nephew, was only 7 years old. He wasn’t even as tall as the M16. They gave it to him, and instructed him how to use it too.

>“Look uncle! I’m a man too, just like you!” He said to me.

A smile crossed my face. We were going to be the best fighters in Laos! No communists would ever be able to hurt our village with us around!

Attached: soldiers.jpg (779x549, 67K)

bump

>Hei Bai's leadership was pretty good.
in what way user...

Attached: 1485551735300.jpg (866x671, 288K)

Attached: 1487345373162.jpg (750x1144, 202K)

Dutiful little wheelgat was my first CCW when I got to NC.

She is currently enjoying her new life.

Attached: DSC00592.jpg (640x480, 125K)

Attached: 1487910769031.png (800x1779, 1.57M)

Requesting a fanfic where a nine month pregnant Anne Frank gets rescued by Task Force Ranger while the 160th SOAR blasts Hell's Bells by AC/DC from their MH-60L Black Hawks

Attached: AnneFrank_001-ALT.jpg (687x1117, 531K)

Huh?

I liked this installment. Description of the Not!Fireforce tactics was well done. Peng's being kind of a pointless dick there, but I guess it's part of his nature. Good job, I say.

Boof opens a munitions factory, specializing in high explosive shells.

Really good opening. I'm hoping to read the next part soon.

Attached: 1513552216672.jpg (1661x975, 651K)

Attached: 1484964569155.png (944x609, 110K)

"Sometimes I wish I had a fifty cal with a PVS-27. What do you mean other Paul? I mean it'd be nice to have a heavy rifle, maybe a stopping rifle, with a fucking dedicated day optic and a clip on. But wouldn't that most likely blow out the tube? Maybe. I don't know."
Talking to yourself is a comfort out here. There's exactly fuck all in terms of other people to talk to anyway, one may as well talk to themself. Not like someone's gonna walk up on you and call you crazy.
"What about a nice Marauder D750? I'm sure we got one of those lying around. Maybe several. Hell, might even be a one o'seven A-one. Maybe a QDL."
>As I sat, I looked on toward the other houses nearby, and I saw one just a couple hundred yards to the north, it was perfect. It was a two story house with a roof that had a low slope angle, it seemed pretty tall and overlooked nearby cornfields, a minty fresh new park
perfect turf for a hog to be roaming in.
>One of the things that I learned very early on is that these hogs can kill people armed with guns... and they don't seem to be scared of gunshots when they're up close.
>It was a night like any other, I was trying to figure what the panic was about when I heard the last of the motorvehicles, a chinook flying away over my head and off to the horizon, I heard shooting in full auto and screams just a few hundred yards down the road.
>I moved from alleyway to allyway as the number of guns decreased, the screams became silent.
>The sun was already down, but that didn't stop these ones. Maybe they'd stumbled upon the soldiers, but I couldn't tell.

Attached: image.jpg (337x562, 73K)

>I waited for the sounds of pigs devouring so nearby to die down. I waited about an hour and a half before I walked out to the post and found the desicrated and thoroughly dismembered remains of what appeared to be a squad from the national guard among dozens of dead pigs, judging by the inactive PVS-14's that were left in their active positions, and the PVS-7's, some of which were stowed, and had tripped their auto shutoff as was intended when their ancient and well worn mounts had been designed.
>The thing about PVS-7's though, is that they didn't have one hour shutoff timers like their counterparts a decade newer, instead, they had four hour shutoffs, so the PVS-7's donned and active at the time of the men's deaths still glowed with that P43 green hue, illuminating eyes and sockets among heavily disfigured patches of skin atop shredded and bloody bodies.
>If one really wished, they might be able to distinguish their blood trails from where they'd been dragged around by the hogs, but I didn't really wanna spare the attention span to pick those out among the sticky red goop that'd practically come to stand in the hudred yards or so of road surrounding them.
>It was one of those things I tried to simply never think about. But in the end, one thing is always evident.
The need for a way inside from a roof.
The pigs could never collapse a building... or at least they didn't, but they could certainly tree me, and had a couple of times. In one of these instances, I nearly fell weak from exposure when I was forced to spend days atop a roof, and outstayed my meager food and water supply that I'd brought with me.

Attached: image.jpg (850x1020, 113K)

Some houses had skylights, others had balconies, but one thing I've found I can rely on is detcord and blasting caps. It seems like a cure all for any situation at this point. Need a way into a house? Make a frame charge from detcord and blast a door in the roof, need a cat out of a tree? Need to loosen up a locked gate? Need something to break down dead hogs? Works okay for that too. The only thing det cord doesn't seem to do, besides exist in limitless quantity, is talk to you when your feeling lonely, or cuddle when you're cold at night.
>I looked out into the field and saw more animals yet approaching, something looked like a wolf, maybe a stray dog, couple sheep. The cows had long since died off, being that the cow is an animal more domesticated than even a dog, it wasn't surprising, then you just account for them being left in their pens. They weren't exactly going to make it in the wild anyway.
>Somewhere far out to my right I could see what looked like... a deer?
"Maybe. I've seen stranger things."
>I sighed to myself, thinking of the meat that I could be preparing all morning before collapsing into bed if only I'd brought the MK20 and the CO mini. I'd be able to hit it from here... only maybe... seven hundred and thirty yards? Buuuut then I wouldn't have full auto for the walk home and... yeah I still wish I had the MK-20.
>Time passed, and eventually I find that it's five something in the morning of july thirty-first. The horizon is brightened but not yet intruded by the sun as I flip up the nods, which turn off by themselves, fold the tubes to the sides, and begin making a sprint for home before the hogs come out in herds.

Attached: image.png (1024x768, 949K)

i can never tell if its different people or just the one, really persistent guy

I tend to file these (as well as some other repetitive stuff-) under "retarded meme posted by a retard" and leave it at that

*those

Attached: 1488667268733.png (1220x1160, 1.27M)

Judging from the filenames it's 3-4 anons who post it a lot and then a few bandwagoners who do it occasionally.

Attached: 1491164290292.png (541x787, 523K)

Attached: 1521913906034.webm (720x404, 1.88M)

updates to, i guess the sticky will follow trough the day

Attached: 1491177248575.jpg (450x578, 27K)

Attached: 1491198877546.png (643x865, 315K)

Attached: 1491232052239.jpg (1362x1554, 502K)

Attached: 1485110754871.jpg (423x720, 61K)

bump

Attached: 1491234133029.png (1440x909, 204K)

Attached: 1491242343944.png (1067x665, 263K)

I'm all for slotting commies, but this seems s little exploitative

I keep notepads and pens on my nightstand. I also keep my laptop in bed sometimes.

That was a good bread.

Attached: 1436021267314.jpg (991x630, 168K)

Bump

cyoot

Attached: awoo through the jungle.png (1000x998, 732K)

What do you mean by that?

Attached: 27867850_1896640803981365_6871710722878321897_n.png (922x480, 179K)

I love Indiana Jones movies

Attached: 1491271973115.png (933x1967, 284K)

I mean, killing commies is a good thing. but random people showing up and saying 'yeah you gotta kill these commies they're bad trust us' and rounding up every male and training them to fight in a proxy war of which they understand nothing about seems like some pretty communist tier tactics to me

bump

Welcome to the Grand Chessboard. The Green Berets exist to do basically that.