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Post by Merriell "Snafu" Shelton on Apr 24, 2010 22:55:10 GMT -7
From what Snafu could infer from his makeshift foxhole dug haphazardly a few hours before, the relentless pounding of shells exploding somewhere in the distance wasn't going to let up anytime soon. At first, he had taken to looking at the lights that seemed to slide in between the trees and sink into the grass. But that had soon grown tiresome, and Snafu had concluded that the stream of colors wasn't going to stop, no matter how hard he stared at it.
Much to his annoyance, however, the other men nearby didn't seem to hold the same mindset. A few of them had quietly dozed off and were peacefully snoring, but the large majority of anxious Marines sat in shivering and forced silence, but their rapid and nervous breath was still loud, and Snafu couldn't seem to ignore it. He had half the mind to tell them to shut their mouths and breath through their goddamn noses, but he couldn't quite bring himself to speak.
He took to counting the breaths that the men beside him took, watching the rising and falling of a marine's chest of to his left. It wasn't as good as sleeping, but it was better than watching the lights as they died in the sky.
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Post by Eugene Sledge on Apr 25, 2010 11:57:33 GMT -7
[/color] His voice croaked, quiet, but gained volume as his sentence progressed. He licked his lips, chewing on them, before looking down at his book again. Snafu never failed to go on and give him the heebies with his wild-man stare.[/ul]
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Post by Merriell "Snafu" Shelton on Apr 25, 2010 19:19:17 GMT -7
After a sufficient amount of staring, Snafu found himself digging a few fingers into the dirt underneath his aching body. Maybe he was trying to unearth something in the caked ground, a thirsty worm or maybe a hunk of deteriorating bone. He wasn't quite sure what he was trying to do, but that was a pretty common sentiment these days and he didn't think anymore of it.
A crinkling noise diverted Snafu's eyes from the dirt and to his side, where the constantly jumpy Sledgehammer was messing around reading his book of some sorts again. He squinted for a moment, trying to read the text as the dancing lights would pause to illuminate the pages, but he couldn’t seem to understand more than a word or two. He diverted his eyes back up to the boy’s face as he let out a croak of a sentence.
Snafu knew better than to consider Sledge’s prediction, and he was pretty sure that the boy didn’t believe his own words. The constant shelling would never stop, he knew. Wouldn’t stop until they killed every last one of the Japs.
“Readin’ that book again,” he commented dryly, running his tongue across the top of his teeth. Absentmindedly, he reached a hand into one of his pockets to feel at the gold teeth that collected amongst the lint. It had become somewhat of a habit to make sure they were still there.
“Gonna tell me what’s so interestin’ about it?” he said slowly, leaning his head against his stretched arms. "You just keep lookin' but you don't really read," he noted, blinking a few times as a light exploded somewhere nearby.
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Post by R.V. Burgin on Apr 25, 2010 20:03:10 GMT -7
A sudden shell burst from a ways off snapped R.V. out of his sleep, if you could call it that. Blinking a few times, the young man looked around, and could hear Snafu speaking. R.V. figured it had something to do with Sledge. Snafu had a thing for busting the red heads chops, and had a feeling he was at it again.
R.V. removed his helmet, which had been cushioning his head from the stone pillar he was leant against, running his hands through his short hair. The air was thick. Thick with what, the male didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't like it. Maybe it was the stench of the dead mixed with the dirt and gun powder. Sniffing the air, R.V.'s nose crinkled, but he continued to tousle his hair.
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Post by Eugene Sledge on Apr 26, 2010 4:50:10 GMT -7
[/color] He sighed, angling himself for a better speaking trajectory. The colors in the sky were loud, and he was easily drowned out by them. "It's a collection of Kipling's poems." He brushed a thumb over a withering page, eyes fluttering tiredly. "Ever heard of the movie Gunga Din? That's Kipling's. They turned his poem into a film." His voice was over-powered by a particularly large blast, and he winced. Wondered how many men caught the brunt of it. You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din. That's what he had told Sid once, in a letter. Truer words couldn't be said better by a saint. He fumbled the book closed and rested it against his knee, minutely thinking of how the other men he'd met were fairing. He lifted his gaze again to Snafu, spine shifting uneasily at the look the man sported. "Care ta read it?"[/ul]
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Post by R.V. Burgin on Apr 26, 2010 5:14:55 GMT -7
R.V. cast Sledge a small smile when the male's gaze caught his eye, and he ceased to try to fix his hair, which there wasn't much of to begin with. That Eugene kid was pretty smart, he had to admit. Didn't see that one coming from someone in their platoon, seeing as most of the other men were either just out of highschool, or never even went.
Shifting against the stone, R.V. just listened, not in the most talkative of moods. He had finally been getting some sort of rest, be it superficial, and thanks to the stupid Japs across the way, everything was ruined. Those damn Japs ruin everyhing, R.V. thought, and he was pretty sure his sentiments were shared by the rest of the men, be it the whole United States.
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Post by Merriell "Snafu" Shelton on Apr 26, 2010 15:16:43 GMT -7
ooc; Just letting you know, I haven't seen episode 7. So, if I'm missing like some major piece of characterization or something, I apologize. O__O
Snafu blinked a few times, his mouth now slightly ajar. He never could quite understand the Sledgehammer’s strange habits… he was always reading or writing or pondering this or that. Sniffing around in the dirty pages of a book when everyone around him was praying or cursing. Carrying it around like it was worth some sum of gold. He didn’t see how the boy had any time to pay attention to anything but fear.
“Poetry?” Snafu questioned, now shifting his weight so that he was resting on his elbows. “What d’ya need poetry for out here?”
“Naw, I haven’t seen no poetry movie,” he cracked his neck sideways, gazing directly at Burgin across the way. “Last flick I saw…” he began, searching his mind as he stuck a finger back into his pocket to feel at the teeth, “was I think that one with the pretty girl…” he said vaguely. “Can’t recall the name.”
Snafu bit down on his lip again, his restless eyes glancing out at the illuminated trees above his head and then back towards Sledge. Maybe he was right. Maybe it would all let up soon. The explosions were growing quieter, he thought. Or maybe the breathing around him was just getting louder.
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Post by Eugene Sledge on Apr 26, 2010 18:18:33 GMT -7
[okay! don't worry, you're not :3 you've actually got him pretty smack dab!] [/color] He went to make a thumb-over-shoulder gesture, before he realized there wasn't any beaches that way, but there was a sea. Sea of deceased, rot, bullets and blood. He set his gaze back to the rubble under their feet, lips pressing tight and thin together. He pushed a hand along his jaw, back into his hair and scratching at the ruddy scalp, dirt having found it's way under his helmet, through the red strands and lodging on his scalp. It was disgusting, in all rights of such words. "It's good. If you... ev'r get bored or summin'." He had the book that Leckie had given him, too, lodged somewhere in his bag, forgotten for now until spared time arose and gave him gracious chance to do anything about tucking into re-reading the gained book. Lights trembled in the sky and danced over his page, a deadly reminder of where he was, what was going on. "Gunga Din is about a British soldier. Kind of like us." He trailed off, catching onto the realization of how he sounded, and closed the book completely. He returned it to the breast pocket of his uniform, a chill making his neck cold. He twitched, and looked from Snafu to Burgin. "You read it?" He was beginning to think most of the men here were allergic to fine reading, but then again, it wasn't a popular past time amongst men. Especially out here. What d'ya need poetry for out here? He hadn't given a strong answer to it. But he had it now. It kept him sane, reminded him he was literate. He was going to be somebody, if he lived. The explosions were becoming clockwork sound to him now, and would until they stopped entirely.[/ul]
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Post by R.V. Burgin on Apr 26, 2010 18:34:00 GMT -7
R.V. blinked once as he realized Sledge was talking to him. " Nah, I haven't. Sounds good, though." he said softly, though it was actually quite loud, before heaving a heavy sigh. He liked to think he was a smart man, even though he didn't read as much the rest of his graduating class had. He did read, though it was mostly popular books that most people had already read before he even figured out it existed.
" You read a lot?" he asked, leaning forward and propping his chin on his knees, looking across at the red head. Eugene could have been a college graduate, for all R.V. knew. But something told him he wasn't. Something told him he was just a kid, just like R.V. was himself.
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Post by Merriell "Snafu" Shelton on Apr 26, 2010 22:05:22 GMT -7
ooc; Okay, good. I'm honestly just making a character up at this point... I feel like I don't know enough about Snafu to be comfortable with who I'm playing. It'll come, though.
Snafu retreated from the conversation after a moment of listening, his eyes still fixated on the red head in front of him but his mind lingering somewhere in the trees above.
If you... ev'r get bored …
He was bored, that was for sure. Maybe not in a way that Sledgehammer’s book could fix. He didn’t see how words on a piece of crinkled paper could distract you from any of this, anyhow. Maybe it was different for a poetic mind, like Sledge’s. Maybe he could make something peaceful and calm out of the ink, but it wasn’t that way for Snafu.
The dirt seemed to calm him more than anything else.
He didn’t remember the last time he read a book. But he didn’t remember the last time he drove in a cab, or the last time he’d talked to his ma, either. He dug a fingernail across his lip. Maybe he’d glanced at a comic book a few weeks ago. That seemed about right.
As if provoked by the silence to a point of taking action, the sky exploded once again in flames. He hadn’t been paying much attention, but he could tell that the bursts were growing closer.
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Post by Eugene Sledge on Apr 27, 2010 14:29:13 GMT -7
[/color] He nodded, voice softer now. He wasn't sure if he was heard over the bomb cry in the back. His sigh wasn't, for sure. He gingerly stretched out his legs, like he didn't want to touch anyone, and rubbed a this knee-caps. Every single one of his bones ached from moving so much in one day, but he wasn't about to verbally complain. His gaze skidded again to Snafu, watching him for a moment longer. He looked haunted, the type you'd expect to be a proverbially pit-bull with a temper to match. At least, that was Gene's first impression. He didn't know the man. He couldn't judge him. He had no right. Dirt was under his nails, in his nose, scattered across the flesh of his face. It wasn't the type of dirt he was used to, in the name of fun and goofing around in the hideaway spot, where it was so normal. A growing habit. Something teenage boys turning into men did. This war wasn't what he expected. He licked his lips (ignoring soil grains), and nodded at Burgin, trying to give at least a smile (even if it was tight-knit). "Yeh. It passes the time, if you read slow." He pushed the tips of his fingers to his hair-line, feeling dried sweat coated with that damn dirt. He frowned, scritching until it gave and fell away in filthy flakes. "You?" The conversation was slow, but it blocked out a minor amount of the pesky noise. The lights gave him a hand with identifying faces, and he glanced back to the ever stoic seeming Snafu, brow pinched in a way he feared was permenant. "Maybe I was wrong." As he spoke, he gestured behind him to the flashes looming behind them like the wrong type of shadow.[/ul]
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Post by R.V. Burgin on Apr 27, 2010 14:51:58 GMT -7
Burgin shook his head, a small smile appearing across his face. " No. I mean, I read a little, but not when there's other things to do, like...physical things." He didn't necessarily mean women, thought that was the way it sounded. He meant things like fishing, or playing basketball, or baseball. Back home, R.V. could be found out and about, climbing trees, swimming, you name it. He loved the outdoors, and taking in all the sights, sounds and smells. He missed it dearly, after having seen such atrocities there in Peleliu. Sure, they were outdoors, but it wasn't the same. Instead of green, fresh grass, there was dirt, and mud, and odd formations of rocks. Instead of lakes of blue water, there were only puddles of dirty, germ filled muck that had been filled with dead animals by the Japs.
Burgin shifted in his spot again, leaning back and hitting his head against the stone pillar he had forgotten was there. Reaching back, he felt the back of his head, and could feel a wetness. R.V. bought his fingers to his face, only to see a small amount of blood on them. " Damnit." he cursed lowly.
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Post by Merriell "Snafu" Shelton on Apr 27, 2010 15:33:48 GMT -7
The Marines around him were still trying to avoid noticing death, Snafu figured, but they weren’t doing a very good job. He noticed their quickened pulses and twitches, and the familiar thud of skin hitting rock was certainly a final clue. Whatever thoughts they were trying to think to curb their fear were gone now, he knew. He used to think that way, too.
Snafu slowly took hold of his helmet, holding it loosely by the thumb as he awaited the moment when he’d need to snap it on. Couldn’t be long now until something would happen. Maybe a few Japs would pop out from behind the shadow of the trees and they’d be done with it fast and quick. But an air raid would likely follow, and Snafu wasn’t ready for that kind of chaos again. Maybe they’d get lucky and just have to push their lines back for a while, but he doubted the probability of any sort of retreat. It was probably just smart to be ready for any one of the yellow slant’s many methods to try and kill him.
He eyed the men around him, again focusing his eyes on Sledgehammer. Wasn’t as scared as he used to be, Snafu noticed. Didn’t look so much like a little boy, straight out of reciting his lessons at Sunday school. His brows furrowed as he examined his face. He didn’t have the same familiar panic in his eyes. Exhaustion was the great enemy of fear, after all.
“Suppose it’ll come any minute now,” Snafu commented as the voices around him silenced.
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Post by Eugene Sledge on Apr 27, 2010 16:02:42 GMT -7
[/i] He wanted to say, but figured it'd be wasted breath. Figured R.V would get the idea of hitting his head and put the damn thing on. He hugged his gun tighter, and took the risk of looking over his shoulders. Fire burned along the hills in the distance, dancing with purpose, and the loud rage of aircraft made itself known as it passed in the same relative distance. When nothing was illuminated, it looked almost peaceful. He wished he could be as naive as that, but it was such a hope that fell upon deaf ears. The Lord wouldn't, not after he made the commitment to crash head first into heated battle. "Suppose so," When it went quiet, he felt three things. He felt his stomach drop. He felt his skin shift with a shudder. And he felt the ground quake as it took another strike, and firepower kicked into action, spitting angrily at the line. He cringed away at first, but after someone's hand against his shoulder blade, he was thrusting himself up against the lip of his cover, weapon shouldered and firing. The barrage, hopefully, wouldn't last long. They were shooting blind, anyway.[/ul]
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Post by R.V. Burgin on Apr 27, 2010 16:41:33 GMT -7
R.V. sighed as he felt around on the ground beside him for his helmet, only to feel the dirt crumbling beneath his fingers, and no helmet. His expression twisted into a frown. A helmet less soldier is a pretty big, and easy, target. Especially for those damn Jap snipers, who seemed to pop out of nowhere and take several soldiers out at once. Damnit, now I'm-, flashed through R.V.'s mind, but his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the all too familiar sound of incoming fire.
R.V. pulled his rifle, which was slung lazily on his shoulder, up and was beside Sledge in a matter of seconds, firing in the same direction as the rest of the men. His aim was definitely off, though, as he kept his head as low as he could, hopefully just out of the range of any Jap snipers, who seemed to be able to see in the dark. With only his eyes and forehead visible, he continued to fire.
" Where's my fucking helmet?!" he cried over the sounds of several firing weapons, hoping one of the other guys had seen it.
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