DAY 1
RED BASE CAMP FOXTROT
0800 hours
Dirt...that's all she could see for miles and miles. Just dirt...and rubble.
Lieutenant Major Helena Sheppard sat at the rickety wooden table beside her tent, field stripping and cleaning her 1911 before reassembling it with a sigh, somewhat muffled by the bulky respirator over her face. Eight months, four days, and twenty seven hours, that's how long her squad had been traveling through this god forsaken wasteland until they even made it to the base camp, and not to mention how long she had gone without any sleep. With the Yellows and the Blues giving them hell at every turn, it was difficult to get any shut eye, that and hearing her squadmates bitch and whine because one guy's gun was better or they didn't want to sleep...next to Crazy...
Sheppard couldn't blame them for that though...
With tired, bloodshot eyes, she looked through the smoky lenses of her respirator at the rotted wooden sign next to a couple of tents. Slapped dashed on it in white, chipping paint:
-CAMP FOXTROT-
Accident free for 12 days
A gunshot suddenly rang out amidst the howling wind, followed by rancorous shouts of, "GOD DAMMIT! AHH MY FUCKING FOOT!! WHO THE FUCK DID....?! FRIENDLY FIRE, YOU GOD DAMN SON OF A BITCH!! OWWW!"
The soldier standing post by the sign glanced over then scratched the "12" off the sign with a piece of chalk.
Helena slammed her head against the table groaning. A seasoned veteran with a kill count to boot, a warrior who cut her teeth on the battlefield, and here she was..."babysitting." She groaned whacking her face against the table again and again.
This was gonna be one hell of a day...