Craig watched as 'Green bullet' or so he put it began the introductions between the group. To Craig the idea of a false name was stupid, it wasn't like he was anybody before and if he actually done something in the war effort he'd probably become sort of pub legend at his regular pub. How he yearned to have a game of pool with the lads and knock back a pint in between games. 

That time was long gone now and the terrors of war overtook. The only person he'd practically ever talked to in his first few weeks in the trenches was a young Polish lad named, Jarik. Jarik suffered around the same amount of racism as Craig had and they got on stupendously. Jarik was a little dumb at times though, and find English a hard language to master which made conversation a little hard. The only word that Jarik really knew fluently was 'Sausage' something Craig liked to joke about regularly.

"Metahumans, is that what they're calling us?" He grinned
"My names Craig, I don't have one of them other names so just call me Craig." He adjusted the sling on his gun so that it wasn't pointing into his side, it was now hung on his back.