The greying Lieutenant Webb grimaced at the map and took a stiff drink from an unmarked flask, before placing back at its position on his belt. The man looked about as his grimace did: worn, weathered, and tired. He muttered about something tasting like leather as he scratched a rough patch of leather that had been sewn to his right cheek, the white tendrils of badly healed scars peeking out from under it.
"Well, there's our orders gentlemen, from the pen of those who'll never see the frontlines themselves. I don't know who or how you pissed someone off up top to get you this position, and I frankly don't care. We're running a skeleton crew for this as it is, so I'll take who I can get. We hold the town like the powdered wigs want."
"Sergeant White and Mickenzee, I'll leave you to delegate who gets to babysit, but bring along one who knows their way around a shovel. Fifth kept a hand on their tools before they shipped us, so you can borrow those if you don't have your own. I want barbwire around the fields and the entrance trenched, and some soldiers of yours can take position in the church belltower, it should give you a good field of view and sight range. Eyes on the forest, and fall back if you have to. Our main priority is to keep them from getting past us, not to be farmers or militia because some stuffed shirt can get better marks from our work."
"Reconnaissance is appreciated, both of the town and past the forest. Send who you won't miss, it'll take half a days ride to reach that hill. The rest of us will be making the main line, I want trenches, emplacements, and barbwire everywhere before I blink. The hills will be a good spot to start to the south, they can provide cover from enemy fire and makes taking them by force a fools task. With the west being mostly plains, it'll make the digging easier, but otherwise unremarkable."
He capped off his speech with another swig from his flask.
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Topic: Civil War: 23rd Regiment of the Damned - Day 1, 03:00 (Read 6039 times)