Barracks & The Run

The Barracks were simple and wooden. Cots were placed at even intervals in the room, as well as lockers for the Marines to share and stow their gear, and finally footlockers in front of the cocks to stow smaller items of less importance. There were no lights, meaning that the Marines would have to get creative to illuminate their barracks. Because of the entire MEU using the base, the lieutenant would be sharing the barracks with the enlisted.

He stepped in and surveyed the scene before him with a frown. He had been expecting better accommodations for their stay. Of course he realized that they were deployed and not on a luxury vacation, but he still had hoped for better. He was more than certain the U.S. Army would be getting better quarters to use and sleep in. It even appeared they didn't have air conditioning, making things much worse for them during the day.

"Try to wear light clothes in the barracks guys," the lieutenant cautioned. "I don't want anyone passing out from heat exhaustion."

He then moved to the back of the room, where his rack would be located, and immediately began to strip down into his skivvies and stow his gear in the locker that he would be sharing with Staff Sergeant Hobbar. Afterwards he stowed some of the sunscreen in his footlocker and used a quarter of a bottle on his own skin, rubbing it across all exposed areas. While he may have looked silly to some of the Marines, he didn't care. He was not planning on contracting skin cancer at age twenty-four. It just wasn't on his list of things to do.

Walking in to the wooden barracks, Sergeant Walker could instantly tell they were only a few days old. The large room divided up in to platoon-sized sections would house the two thousand or so Marines in the MEU. That was a lie, actually, as a lot of non-vital people would be based on the Amphibious Assault Ship, and the upper-echelon guys on the ground had air conditioned barracks for themselves.

Every so often, a bathroom came off the side of the room, and windows were just square holes with a hinged flap propped open from the outside. The cots were standard, with mozzie nets hanging from the ceilings. Walker moved to the near the end of the area, grabbing a bed next to Staff Sergeant Hobbar, an appropriate place in the hierarchy of the room. Ditching his ruck on the floor, he flipped open his locker and quickly emptied out a lot of the contents, his spare uniform and kevlar filling the locker, and more personal items went in the footlocker. He wasn't sure whether or not they would have to go through the bullshit of daily barracks inspection, but he made it look neat anyway.

He quickly ditched the boots and ACU, slipping in to his PT shorts and a shirt with the unit logo emblazoned on the front. He grabbed an almost full rehydrate kit and began slapping suncream all over himself. Once he was happy he wasn't going to bare any resemblence to a tomato, he walked outside, sunglasses still in place.

David wandered into the barracks laughing to himself, though the only outwards sign was a small smile. "thank christ I'm not actually a member of 5th squad" he thought to himself as he dumped his stuff by his bunk, and collapsed onto it. "It's far too hot out here". He stripped off too his skivvies, changing into lightweight clothes and wiping off the sweat with a towel.

He started stowing his gear into his locker a few minutes later, and chuckled out loud as he pulled out the sweater and gloves. "Yeah, like I'm, gonna need those." He stowed them all the same along with all his other gear, apart from his SINCGARS set, which he put next to him on his bunk. He fiddled with it for a minute, making sure it was working properly.
"I can't wait to get a signals list Lt. See what dumb-ass names they've decided to give everyone in code. And see what bull-shit support they're giving us." He frowned, knowing how badly an exercise could go without proper support. He hoped they'd be getting all the right stuff, F-15's and M1A1's. That would be cool.

He lay on his bunk, thinking about artillery for a minute with a stupid grin on his face before jumping up suddenly. He grabbed his SINCGARS and shoved it in his pack, before looking over at the Lt.
"Hey Lt., I'm gonna go mess with the POGs in the local radio shack, that ok?"

ooc. walker its not ACU. ACU = Army Combat Uniform. Marines use MARine PATtern or MARPAT or Marine Corps Combat Utility Uniform (MCCUU)

and according to ur gear list, you never mentioned bringing PT gear


Michael walked into the barracks, he was quite surprised. Back in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Marines were situated in a large tent, not a building. This was going to be a nice change of pace. Michael was glad he was higher up the chain of command, he wasn't subjected to 5th squad's new squad leader demanding the squad do some mid-day PT in the currently humid weather. The squadbay was becoming somewhat divided between ranks. The Lieutenant and NCO leadership situated to the back of the room. That's all fine, the top dogs generally wanted to stick together and stay away from their subordinates.

"Try to wear light clothes in the barracks guys," the lieutenant cautioned. "I don't want anyone passing out from heat exhaustion."

The two seemingly gave very different advise. Michael had been warning his Marines of the night weather and how it was to be...rather cool. But for the time being, the LT was right, it was warm and no one wanted to be passing out in the barracks.

"Yeah, like I'm, gonna need those."

Michael looked at the private, "Keep them in reach, you never know when it can get cold."

"Hey Lt., I'm gonna go mess with the POGs in the local radio shack, that ok?"

Before the LT could respond, Michael responded, "Yeah go ahead, have fun." Michael chuckled as he finished unpacking his gear. He threw his uniforms and clothes into the locker, well didn't throw, but it wasn't the neatest locker in the world. The Lieutenant was applying sunblock on. Michael tried not to chuckle too much. Michael looked at the LT's weapon. "Sir, do you want me to camo that baby up?" Michael opened his day-pack to reveal a few cans of spray paint. Michael promptly then made the announcement throughout the whole barracks, "Any one want their weapon cammied up?"

Arriving at the barracks was a sight for sore eyes. He'd expected hastedly erected tents, but the MEU was graced with wooden barracks. The only thing missing was an AC unit and lights, nothing some "torches" as the Marine Corps called flashlights wouldn't fix. Not like they'd need to be able to see at night, Adam planned to sleep whenever they had downtime. If this operation was anything like the officers made it sound any minute of sleep would be savored and not wasted making stupid youtube videos.

Right about now Adam was a bit pissed at his new Sergeant. He was making them get ready to run and PT. Right about now he was regretting not listening to Hobbar to bring a moisture-wicking shirt. Maybe someone would be willing to sell theirs. Adam thought of a solution, he just took one of his OD-skivvies and sliced the arms off and cut slits down the back and front. Not too long that would ruin the shirt, but enough to keep himself a bit more breathable. After modifying his shirt, he finished unpacking his gear. He found a rack right in the middle of the barracks, surrounded by a few of his fellow squadmates whom he conscidered his closer friends of the platoon. He organized his gear into the locker. Adam suddenly realized that he didn't bring any PT gear. In fact, he didn't think anyone in the platoon figured to bring any. Shit...Adam thought, Now I'll have to run in 'Boots 'n' Utes' Adam didn't want to question his Sergeant, but he thougth, why was he pushing the squad so hard? Did he want to get into combat?

ACU, MARPAT, why can't you all wear the same thing? NZ DPM is so much simpler And i'll edit my gear list accordingly

Walker overheard Private Heinlien complaining about the heat, and Walker knew he wouldn't be the only person with doubts on the idea of running. "It's hot out there, yeah, but we're going to be out here for months. Do you think it's better if we spend all day inside because of the heat? The shit's gonna go down around here soon, Marine, and I want to make sure nobody in my squad dies because they can't perform in the heat."

It was a harsh but justified technique. They all needed to get used to the heat, and this was the best way. "If you guys don't have PT Gear, boots, trousers and t-shirts. Make sure you all have fluids with you and get outside quickly."

Corporal Patterson groaned as he went from one brief to another. It seemed everyone had something they wanted to say. He knew it was because they were surrounded by boot motherfuckers, but it was still annoying for most of the boys who'd been there to listen to. When the Sergeant had ordered the men to get ready for a PT run, he shot the man the dirtiest look he could muster.

"Someone ain't gettin' the Sergeant of the Year Award," Marcus said, knowing Walker would probably just shrug off his comment. They were being told to go on a run in the most humid fucking place he had been at in a long time. Although he knew that was gonna change. The temperature variated a lot in the South American countries. It would go from balls sweaty hot to ass freezing cold at a moments notice.

God, he loved his job. The only thing that seemed to bring him any shed of hope for their situation was the barracks, which was a wooden building as opposed to the normal hastily erected tents that he had grown so accustomed to in Iraq. He shook his head, however, when he entered inside and noted there were no AC units nor was there any lighting. So even having an actual barracks came at a price. Typical fucking Marine Corps fashion.

As he made it to his rank, he saw Lance Corporal Booke, he would be sitting in a cot across from his. He smirked, absentmindedly placing gear in his footlocker while clearing his throat to gain the attention of the Marine. "Yo Booke! Fuck My Life, huh? Best fuckin' post on Facebook!" He chuckled and gave the Marine a playful grin. "Looks like the Big Green Weenie don't like us, huh," he inquired, this time addressing both Booke and Siegfried.

William walked up to their barracks along with the other Marines. He was quite happy to see some real buildings instead of tents. God he was sick of tents, and how often they had used them and lived in them when he was over in Iraq and Afgan. It was something else to get to sleep in a real building now. Though by the looks of it, it was made as cheaply as possible. Of course, and whats more they had no lighting. Oh well he couldn't complain so he just shrugged it off, and pushed foward step after step on the nice dirt road then onto the nice soft grass. Another thing William was happy to see. All he was used to was rock, sand, and more sand. Though he did get to see the odd tree, and over growth in Iraq and Afgan. William laughed to himself as he remembered some of his friends who were now out of the Corps and into the civilian world.

When William entered he looked around and saw the area he was supposed to sleep in. William sighed as he saw Patterson enter, and notice his new Sergeant getting ready for their 'Death run' as William was now calling it since it was so fucking hot outside. He was pissed at that worse yet he was sweating worse that Patterson when he saw two hot chicks (OOC:Sorry had to add that XD). And that was a lot. His amazing features were soaked in sweat. Although if they hit the cities after the war, and head to the ocean he'd be able to pick up a few ladies with his looks. William chuckled at that thought, though he knew it was true. He was always picking some hot chick at the beachs in the US. William shook his head quickly and headed over to his cot, where he threw his stuff down. God it was hot, it was so hot he just fell flat on his stomach on the cot. And it hurt like hell yet at the same time it felt good. William knew however he had to get up, and put his PT shit on. God he was one lucky SOB to bring that stuff. Manly because he did do some workouts. Though he did them when it was colder and when you couldn't die from the heat. If there was one thing he learned in the Middle east it was never run in the afternoon, and alway run either near sunset or sometime early in the morning. Sadly though they were running in the heat. William could understand what their Sergeant would do, but maybe it wasn't such a good idea right now. William just shrugged and started to get changed into his PT clothing. "This better not result in Anderson having to come out running to carry one of use back." William thought with a smile.

After he was all changed and ready to go he looked over to see Patterson talking to Booke. William laughed quietly and made his way towards the two. "No, I think he likes us, its just you I don't think he likes you man." William replied jokingly. "So you two ready for the 'Death Run'? I know I am. I have my water, and PT gear ready to go. Though I'm pretty sure I'll end up laying in the dirt half way through it." William said laughing. He enjoyed talking to his fire-team and Patterson. It was fun, it also often ended up with them coming up with some funny jokes. Maybe here one of the Marines would make a Youtube Video and have 5th squad do some crazy or wild thing like they did in the Middle east. William smiled at this thought, but soon dismissed it. William then looked over to see Hobbar and his LT getting their stuff all settled in. "Hey Staff Sergeant, LT you two joining us on our nice blistering hot run in the beautiful hot afternoon?" William asked actually wondering if they did. Though he knew they wouldn't. You'd have to be crazy. William then looked at Patterson, and Booke. "Don't forget your sunscreen, and suntan lotion Marines!" William reminded all the Marines, but was sarcasitic with the Suntan stuff. After saying that he began to apply some to himself. After doing so he took all his reydration gear, and a bonie and got ready to run at the entrance. "Come on Marines, we want to look sexy and tough to the ladies out there... wait their is none." William joked as he ran outside to join the Sergeant.

"Hey Staff Sergeant, LT you two joining us on our nice blistering hot run in the beautiful hot afternoon?"

Michael simply looked at the Corporal. He shot him a pissed off glare then simply announced, "Fuck that. I'm going to get some fucking chow." Michael laughed as he changed over into his Under-Armor. He didn't really care the Marine Corps banned the shirt for being...flammable and all. The moisture-wicking shirt was a godsend in the humid heat. His body stayed cool and dry. On top of that, Michael switched out his regular MCCUUs for FROG variants. The FROG2 blouse has moisture-wicking properties as well being a bit lighter so it was much more comfortable to wear. Michael also grabbed his boonie soft cover plopped it atop his head and slid on his sunglasses. After changing, Michael grabbed his rifle, slung it over his body and exited the building in search for the chow hall.

Walker did a quick headcount, and checked the entire squad was outside. While he'd been waiting, he had had a word with a PT NCO who had confirmed that a running track had been established within the confines of the base. It was essentially a small gap between trees with a reasonably smooth ground. Shaded, so the sun didn't burn everyone who was running.

"Alright Fifth Squad," he called out as they finished stretching, "I want a formation behind me as we go through the base, but you can spread out when we're on the track. Keep an eye on each other and if anybody is about to go down call everyone to stop. Let's go."

He began moving off, two columns of marines behind him as his feet started pounding the baked ground. He followed the directions, running parallel to the airstrip. It wasn't hard to find the entrance to the track, there was a wooden sign pointing down which some joker had already written "Path of the Dead" on.

As Sergeant Walker plunged in to the shade of the trees, he called out behind him, "Last one back buys in drinks!"

Cantrell took a look around in the barracks and sighed. "I hate this place. Why the hell did I have to come to Kommiefornia? I fucking hate Kommiefornia. At least the barracks aren't as bad as the ones in Afghanistan." He started taking sips from his water bottle. It seemed like the more he drank, the more he sweated. But it sure beat being dehydrated.

Cantrell was dressed in the MCCUUs, uncovered and debloused. Under his shirt was a wife beater style under armor shirt, and next to his rack was his M14 that he had been working on. The cam pattern of the synthetic stock had been perfected, blending in to his uniform. The parts that he had to finish up were the boot group, trigger, and muzzle.

The Lance Corporal took the rifle and a few cans of spray paint. He lay down the rifle on some pieces of cardboard that were outside the barracks and began finishing up the paint job. First, he locked open the bolt of his M14, taped the edges of the ejection port with masking tape, and let the bolt slide back home. Then he applied a layer of a dark gray suppressive paint to the bolt. While waiting for this to dry, he stuck a few wads of cotton into the muzzle, and applied more of the surpressive paint to the flash hider.

He looked back to admire his work, and saw the scope. He pondered whether or not he should paint that too. He decided to go for it. He covered up the lenses with cloth and tape, and set out to lay a pattern that matched the stock.

Marcus sighed as the squad formed up and began their 'spirited' march towards the running track that had been hastily (and rather poorly) constructed for the Marines on the base. He glanced over at Siegfried and shook his head, then continued to push forward. He kept his breathing steady, preferring to breath in through the nose and out through the mouth to keep it regulated. Last thing he needed was to run out of breath during a run out in the most humid fucking weather he had been in in years.

He actually thought the humidity topped any country he had so far visited in his time as a Marine. That irked him greatly. But was he going to complain? Hell fucking yes he was. He was a Marine. It's what they did and he was proud to keep that reputation alive and kicking.

"Man, it's more uncomfortable than Booke when he sees a fat chick out here!" he exclaimed, shooting a glance back at the Lance Corporal with a smirk. He wasn't sure if the man would have a retort, but he sure as hell hoped he did. However, before anyone could respond the Sergeant piped in. They had just arrived at the track.

"Last one back buys in drinks!" he said, causing the entire pack to break out of formation and start pushing themselves harder than they had before. As Marcus sprinted past the Sergeant, he said, "Fuck that! You're buyin'!" He laughed and kept going until he was far enough away from his squad leader to slow down without worry of being caught up to and began pacing himself. He realized that this was going to be a long run.

"Path of the Dead"

Adam groaned, "Who's the fucker who wrote this? I'm going to fucking destroy him." Adam followed the Sergeant as he began the run. Already, the humidity was killing Adam's legs, his legs were beginning to sweat and stick to his trousers.

"Man, it's more uncomfortable than Booke when he sees a fat chick out here!"

Adam thought to himself, its much too hot to return a smirkey comment, but what the heck. "Fuck man," Adam started, "fat chicks make me wanna..." Adam mockingly stuck his finger down his throat and mimicked puking, "Now, Patterson...you're the kind of fucker who likes fat chicks cuz there's something to hold onto." Adam held his hands out and outlined an hourglass, "I go for the skinny ladies with that hourglass figure."

"Last one back buys in drinks!"

"Fuck that! You're buyin'!"

Adam laughed out loud. "Yeah, Sergeant, I'm but a lowly Lance Coolie, I ain't got no money. Corps doesn't pay me enough for that shit."

The Marines quickly finished their lap and returned to the barracks.

ooc. just closing this thread down.

The Marines returned to the barracks where the Lieutenant and Staff Sergeant were waiting for them.

"Have a seat and listen up Marines." Staff Sergeant Hobbar said. The Marines all gathered around in a semi circle like formation. "You have the stage Sir."

"Thank you Staff Sergeant." Lieutenant Garber said. He looked at his Marines and greeted them, "Good afternoon Marines."

"Good afternoon sir!"

"I hope fifth squad enjoyed their little run." Garber grinned, some of the Marines murmured in disapproval. "Well, you'll have some time to rest, but I just got word from Captain Klemens that squads of Marines are being sent outside the wire to patrol and do a little bit of recon on the outlying cities surrounding Manaus, the Capital City of the Brazilian State of Amazonas."

Some Marines nodded in approval, finally a real mission.

"These will be mounted patrols so we'll loading up onto Humvees, we'll separating by fireteams with platoon leadership spread between. 5th Squad mounts up at..." Garber checked his watch, it read: 1500, "1600, that gives you an hour to rest, and get ready to head out. Good to go?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright then, dismissed."

"Aye-aye sir."

occ. I will start a thread for the patrol soon, but for now continue to post here.

David waits through the briefing, thoughts running through his head. He waits for the Lt to leave before he pipes up.
"Hey, guys. I've heard some scuttlebutt over at the radio tent. The teams that have been going out already have been coming up against some real shit, heavy contacts all round. Just to let you know. But it sounds like we have full support, air, arty, that sorta thing." He sits on his bunk, beginning to pack his backpack.

"I hope this is all legit" Cantrell said to no one in particular. "Nothing sucks quite like being told something like this, and then it never happens. All the anxiety and none of the excitement." He thought back on the days when he was a Sergeant and lead a fireteam of his own in Afghanistan. Sometimes there were up to 13 firefights in 1 day, at other times not so much as a gunshot would be heard for weeks.

Cantrell quickly checked to make sure his M14 was operating properly by doing a quick dry fire multiple times. When he was satisfied, he put aside his weapon and lay on his rack a bit to rest his tired body.

William sighed in relief as they finished doing that painfully hot run. God how he hated the sergeant for making them do such a thing. Yet he somewhat respect what he was trying to do. That being seeing how well the guys could hold up in this heat. After all if they thought that was bad just wait till they were in full combat gear running around trying to avoid incoming fire from the enemy. William was one of the few who just took a good long drink of his water, and walked around as if he hadn't just ran around in this hot whether. The reason was due to his experience with the heat in the middle east. He'd done far worse runs over there than here. So William was okay with this, it didn't tire him out in the least, mainly since he had the right wear for this kind of thing, and a few water bottles ready for him, and anyone else who would need it. That and one of those packs that allowed for drinking water on the run.

William listened to what was being said, and he nodded and smiled at the end. They were going on their first mission. This wasn't going to be William's first recon mission. He'd done a good bit in Iraq during the invasion. He also had a good bit of combat experience that hopefully help in some ways. Either way he was happy to be getting a mission finally, and he knew some of the Marines were dead tired after that run, but they'd get not only that one hour, but another few hours on the ride over to their destination. So all in all they should be fine with that, it was more so if a lot of the new guys would be ready for this. He'd seen some guys who thought they were who ended up laying against cover frozen in fear. It took a bit of yelling and shaking to get them out of that state. William hoped that wouldn't happen to his Marines.

After getting the orders and being dismissed William headed back to his bunk. He began to get changed out of his sweaty PT clothes and his runners, and began to put on his uniform. After a bit he was dressed in his uniform, and ready to put on his combat gear at a moments notice. He made sure his weapons were also ready, and he made sure that he had a book with him when they headed out. He wasn't sure if there was going to be any combat or not, so having a book with him wouldn't be bad. He knew he wouldn't really need it Because once his Fire-Team loaded up in the transports there was going to be a lot of jokes. So after getting his shit together he fell flat on his cot, and fell asleep.