(OOC- is it okay if Maxwell , your character due to their ANZAC origins is with Scott's section? Could also have Poly too, if you want your character to tag in. Also, Dimitri is in Alexios's section I believe.)

[quote=Sturmgeschutz]Leaving Bailey to bark his orders at his more impressive collection of soldiers, Myles turned to his own. "Sergeant Harris, take a section of men, and man the southern-most point of the line," he said with slurred but loud speech,."
[/quote]

Scott clutched his STEN tightly, looking up to Myles, the British officer somehow still not accepted in Scott's mind. This was a man he had heard a lot about. The fighting on Crete had begun recently, and had heard bad things about him. Scott was of course, afraid to die. Like every man was, he was fearful that his life would be extinguished, and a letter would be sent home to his mother and father, telling them of how brave a soldier he was. But his CO was somehow driving him fucking insane. He looked like the kind of man that would put others to die for him, and never fight himself. He didn't know if he'd entirely survive this ordeal. But if he did, he would make sure that that fucker was 

 The lorry had been a piece of shit all the way, but that wouldn't stop him. He had a few men under his command, including Private Maxwell, and four others of the section including himself, one Bren, one PIAT and two Lee-Enfield armed soldiers. It would do, and they needed to stop flankers, which was exactly Scott knew they oculd pull off.
"Lads, on me! There's a set of sandbags we can entrench behind, at the bottom end of the Bofors batteries- post up and shoot fucking any German you see!" He yelled at the top of his voice, knowing his four would understand perfectly well what that meant.

The New Zealander was almost accustomed to the Cretan heat, but it was kicking today bad, and even in his rolled up sleeves and Boonie hat, it was still killer when push came to shove and they were moving quickly to the end of the battery. Quickly running behind a sandbag, the sight of paratroopers ahead and above was a sight to see, albeit one that did put some fear into Scott's heart. These men had serious fucking nerve.
"Contacts, straight ahead! Lay down fire!" Scott yelled, aiming down the Sten's sights at a set of paras that were coming down, noticing that they didn't have their weapons. They'd been dropped separately, under differently colored parachutes, and this wave was now right in the open, unarmed. They didn't carry their weapons on their parachute harnesses- they were either attached separately on bags under their legs, where many paratroops would suffer broken ankles if not conducting the correct PLF, or the weapons come separately. Two came down almost immediately on landing, like a sack of potatoes dead with 9mm rounds, as .303 fire, automatic and bolt action fired, went down range towards the falling men, Scott's section opening up all weapons.

--

Being with the old man was not something that pleased Dimitri entirely, but he knew that he perhaps was a little better versed in war. Looking back, he shook his head, but looked to the Fez-wearing Greek, then looking to the gun.
"Can't be that hard, we need a healthy supply of 40mm shells and to man the cranks." Dimitri said, then looking up, the sight of planes and paratroops coming down, as he stepped into the small battery, looking at it.
"Fucking hell." He simply said, looking to Alexios, then back up at the sky, as he put his Bren down at the front.
"Borrow this if you need to, fire on anything that pisses us off sufficiently. Let's fire this thing up." He said, grabbing the cranks, quickly moving them into position, about 60 degrees the sky, towards the landing area's direction.
"Load shell...fire!" He yelled, aware that they had to fire off a lot of these, the flak attuned to go off at about 500m or so- a close by shower that would kick off any low flying transports.