Early Morning, June 25, 1915
Somewhere off the coast of Gallipoli...The captain of the
HMS Stapleton looked out across his deck of his steamer, pack from stem to stern with young soldiers. He was modestly dressed in a tattered pullover. His face was worn by the wind and covered in stiff stubble that was red, fading to grey. It was a cold, wet morning as the small fleet of conscripted civilian vessels steamed across the strait towards the coast of Turkey... And their doom, so he insistently thought to himself. His apprehension was not unfounded. The British task force had failed last month to force the strait and taken heavy losses trying to outgun the Mehmet forts. The waters were mined, though he had been assured that the devices were designed to detonate only against the metal hulls of warships. Never one to take a person at their word, he remained skeptical, though he decided there was nothing for it. He was a loyal citizen of the empire after all, even if loyalty meant probably being shot to hell by machine guns. He cast a thoughtful glance through the glass ports situated at the front of his cockpit, looking towards the infantrymen standing shoulder to shoulder; there was no room to sit down.
At least I'm not a submarine captain, he thought to himself. He heard a few of them had been caught in the anti-sub nets and never came back. The admirals were angry that the Turks wouldn't even admit they had taken the crews prisoner, despite the fact that it was known they were shelling the open waters.
The captain's thoughts were pushed aside as a growing murmur nudged it's way to the front of his mind. He swung open the door to the cockpit and stuck his head out. The noise had been taken up by the soldiers on deck, just audible over the sound of the engine. Some of the men were leaning over the port rail and staring across the water. Shouldn't there have been a vessel just beside us? The captain was about to admonish the soldiers, one of them might fall overboard, when someone called out at the top of his voice. "Jesus Christ look there!" The old sailor turned in the direction of the noise directly aft of him. The fleet of small troop ships was flanked by a horizontal line of battleships meant to fire on the Turkish shore defenses once the battle began, and they were themselves flanked by destroyers on the watch for German subs and surface vessels. He was just in time to see the
Prince of Wales enveloped amidships by a massive black tentacle, almost as thick as the vessel it clutched. The noise of the warship's bells and whistles calling its crew to action floated out across the water, and there was the crack and flash of gunfire as the sailors on board attacked the monstrous limb with abandon. The steamer was silent as everyone aboard was overtaken with awe at the sight before them. Then, the tentacle could be seen to flex, though from this distance it only seemed to shift slightly, but its strength must have been immense as the warship slowly began to sink beneath the water. The captain shuddered, then sighed fearfully. "Why, she displaces 15,000 tons..." As the last of the battleship's citadel vanished below the surface of the water, the men on the steamer slowly began to come back to life. The whole event transpired in a matter of minutes, but it felt much longer. The smell of piss hung in the air as more than a few men had relieved themselves in horror. Someone somewhere began to sob. "My god, my god-" The captain repeated, his eyes wide and hands involuntarily kneading his clothes. He hadn't taken his eyes off that empty patch of water. "
My god."
You are the Australian Imperial Force, 29th Division, 3rd Brigade. You are Anzac; men from Queensland, South Australia, Western Australia, and Tasmania. Some of your officers are old British warriors, such as the 3rd Brigade CO Colonel Ewan Sinclar-Maclegan, a veteran of the Boer War, but most of you are young men who enlisted for the promise of adventure and travel abroad.Name:
Appearance: [What do you look like? Males only.]
Rank: [Private OR Lance Corporal (choose LC if you want small command responsibilities)]
General Combat
You may use one "weapon" per turn.
Rifles can target one enemy per turn at any range.
Pistols can target one enemy at long range, or multiple enemies at short range.
Machine guns can target any number of enemies up to 12 in a designated field of fire.
Each weapon consumes 1 unit of ammo for its type.
Firearm Accuracy
d6 is rolled for accuracy. 1 success = 1 hit. Rifles can only make one hit per attack, but multiple successes lead to critical hits, which can cause massive damage.
Rifle: 3d6; long range: success on 1-3; short-range: success on 1-4
Pistol: 6d6; long range: success on 1; short-range: success on 1-3
Machine gun: 12d6; long range: success on 1-4; short range: success on 1-5
Throwing (Grenades
Roll 1d6.
1 = thrown object falls short
3-5 = object lands on target
6 = object sails past target
Grenades are powerful throwing weapons and are in limited supply. You can also throw things to other players and if the item lands on target, they will catch it. Throwing range of a grenade is approx. 50 yards if you want it to explode when it's on the ground but they can be thrown further if you want them to explode in the air.
Melee and Wounds
Both participants roll 1d20. Whoever rolls highest lands a strike on the other guy. If you have an entrenching tool or a bayonet, this will end the fight because the target will be dead or maimed. Assuming it's human of course.
Luck
You start the game with 3 Luck. If you are shot or struck or otherwise experience a deadly force that could wound or kill you and there is a plausible scenario by which you could survive, roll 1d6 against your luck. If you MEET or roll LESS than your Luck stat, you survive. Otherwise you are appropriately hurt or splattered. Each time you roll to get lucky and survive, your Luck decreases by 1. I might decrease it by 2 or 3 if you really REALLY should've died.
Reloading
You may load one loose round in the first turn you load, plus two (for a total of three per turn) each subsequent turn you spend loading. The bonus dispels as soon as you are finished loading, or you start firing the weapon, or you start loading a different firearm. Thus you may fend off an enemy with your bayonet, then go back to reloading your rifle without dropping the bonus.
Ex. In TURN ONE John starts loading loose rounds. He loads one round into his rifle. In TURN TWO John loads three rounds. In TURN THREE John stabs a beholder in the eye. In TURN FOUR Jonn decides to keep loading and loads three more rounds.
You may load your rifle with as many rounds as are in a charging clip you use. This takes one turn.
Loading charging clips or magazines is subject to the same rules as loading rifles.
These rules are subject to change.
I intend to make this game as believable as possible but I am not a historian, so excuse me if some details are altered for ease of storytelling. If there are experts out there feel free to advise me in PM, but please do not pester me in the thread about a turn that has already been written.