The boat creaked and swayed in the water. The French Navy had blockaded their prodigal son, and were waiting patiently, knowing that Algeria could not provide for itself and an army forever. Behind the cannons however, lay boats filled with soldiers, guns, horses, tents. Everything needed to reclaim the country that had rebelled. Non-commissioned officer Hans Weber was feeling queasy, his stomach rolling and riling with every turn of the boat. His men were next to useless, as much of the Foreign Legion were, but nonetheless, he only had two years of leading these sods before he could become a Frenchman himself.
"Guns at half cock for now! If you waste powder in this boat I will personally jam your bayonet so far up your arse that you will wish that one of those soldiers got you!" His French was heavy and accented, but it was distinct, and that was an advantage no matter who you were. He fiddled with his revolver, checking that it was fully loaded once more, and then he heard the bell that signified it was time to get down onto the landing boats. "LET'S GO!"
Let's get going on this bloody, horrible mess folks!
"Guns at half cock for now! If you waste powder in this boat I will personally jam your bayonet so far up your arse that you will wish that one of those soldiers got you!" His French was heavy and accented, but it was distinct, and that was an advantage no matter who you were. He fiddled with his revolver, checking that it was fully loaded once more, and then he heard the bell that signified it was time to get down onto the landing boats. "LET'S GO!"
Let's get going on this bloody, horrible mess folks!