Really well written man, I enjoyed the heel out of it.

The only thing I would change at all is the unit designation.  The real
parachute infantry regiments are the 505th, 325th, 504th, 501st and 173rd.

At least those are the ones I know about.

Oh wait, 325 is called an Airborne Infantry Regiment because they used to
have the gliders.

> -----Original Message-----
> From: Jim Davis [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]
> Sent: Thursday, September 28, 2006 12:59 AM
> To: CF-Community
> Subject: Writing Critique Wanted - Military Views Appreciated
> 
> There's a contest for an upcoming video game to write "a gritty war
> journal"
> of "one or two pages".
> 
> The game is set in 1951, but no WWII occurred.  Instead a mysterious
> invasion force (aliens, we think) has crept from Russia to take all of
> Europe.  It's July 11th, 1951 and the American forces have hit the Western
> shore of Britain in a massive offensive.
> 
> Okay - it may be silly, but I gave it try.  What do think?
> 
> I'd like to be as authentic as possible without losing drama.  I know the
> whole damaged radio thing is probably a Maguffin but I wanted to force
> one-way communication.
> 
> Anyways, here it is.  Be gentle.
> 
> Thanks in advance,
> 
> Jim Davis
> 
> 
> 
> 
> [Transcribed from Radio Communication Logs.]
> [Identification logged as Private First Class Wilson Jacobs, U.S. Army,
> Company E, 217th Parachute Infantry Regiment.  Current status: MIA.]
> [Multiple Responses attempted, no success.]
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 02:34]
> 
> "Not sure of location... drop zone was Manchester but we started taking
> heavy fire as soon as we hit the coast. We dumped as soon as we could.  I
> think we drifted south.  My best guess is someplace north of Liverpool.
> 
> I won't be able to hear you.  The ear-piece was blown off with most of my
> left hand.  Sniper.  I think I lost my ear too.  I'm not sure; I haven't
> been able to look yet.  I'm not even sure if anybody's hearing me.
> 
> Most of us were taken out in the air.  I don't know how the bastards could
> be so accurate.  They use some weird kind of tracer round - it glows red
> and
> hums.  Damn things look like orange sparklers.  They got some of the boys
> before they could even open their chutes.  I don't know how they could see
> them.
> 
> If I had to guess I'd say that less than one man in 50 made it to the
> ground
> alive.
> 
> I lost most of my equipment during the drop.  I've still got my sidearm
> and
> my bayonet.
> 
> I was one of the first ones out so I think I was at the tail end of the
> drop.  I'm going to move East and try to reconnect."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 03:17]
> 
> "No friendly contacts.  Ran into an enemy squad.  They had one of our boys
> hung upside-down by his own chute.  They were cutting on him and throwing
> pieces to some animals they had with them.  I thought they were dogs at
> first - they were about that size - but they didn't move like dogs.  There
> was no barking either.
> 
> I hope he was already dead when they started.
> 
> I was able to flank them without getting noticed and kept moving East.
> 
> We heard all sorts of stories from the Irish refugees about demons and men
> from Mars.  They talked about burning blood and giant monsters like
> something out of 'King Kong'.
> 
> Command told us that the enemy was using some new gas weapon that could
> make
> you see things.
> 
> I couldn't see that clearly, and I don't think I've been gassed, but I
> swear
> those bastards didn't look human to me."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 06:48]
> 
> "I'm not sure what time it is - my watch was blown apart with my hand.
> It's
> lighter; a little after dawn but still cloudy.  Hazy.  I think I've moved
> about four or five miles but I still don't know where I am.
> 
> Saw a fire-fight from the top of a ridge a little while ago.  I think it
> was
> our boys - I recognized BAR fire.  The enemy squad was small - I only saw
> six men - and they used those weird tracer rounds again.  They really
> ripped
> into our line.  But those boys held their own: I saw at least three of the
> enemy go down.
> 
> They sent a pack of those dog-things at our boys - they're definitely not
> dogs but I'll be damned if I can say more than that.  Things move like
> cockroaches.  A grenade got most of them before they hit the line.
> 
> The enemy seems strange.  They move differently... like they have too many
> knees or something.  But they're fast.  Damn fast.  The uniforms are
> bizarre.  With feathers or spikes or something across the back - it makes
> them look a little like movie Indians.
> 
> I'm holed up in a shed - a pig pen or feed house or something - about
> two-hundred yards from a farm house.  My head is starting to ache and my
> missing thumb is itching something fierce.  I'm going to rest here for a
> bit
> and then try to hook up with that squad."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 14:07]
> 
> "I must have fallen asleep.  Or passed out.  I think it's early afternoon.
> Cloudy still.  It's been quiet.  I was hoping to hear more noise - that
> would have meant more of us made it to the fight.  Or maybe I landed
> farther
> off the mark than I thought.
> 
> I was able to use my bayonet as a mirror.  I couldn't see the back but my
> head is messed up pretty good.  I could see skull showing through above
> where my ear used to be.  I don't know what they hit me with but it seemed
> to somehow seal the wound - like it's burned closed.  There's not much
> blood.  Lots of pain. The mother of all headaches.  But only a little
> blood.
> 
> At this point I may as well sit tight until nightfall.  That squad I saw
> is
> probably miles off."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 20:23]
> 
> "I fell asleep again - I think I might be going into shock or something.
> One of those dog-things was working at my boot when I woke up.  I still
> had
> my bayonet in my hand and I slashed at it.  It was softer than I thought -
> it splattered like a bug.
> 
> They're not dogs.  About the same size as a poodle but nothing else like
> it.
> More like a weird squid or crab or something.  I've never even heard of
> anything like it.  I don't know if it was just the smell of the thing or
> the
> head wound or both but my stomach couldn't take it.  I couldn't stop
> heaving
> until I got away from that thing.
> 
> I can't see any other movement but there's a small light, like a candle,
> at
> the farmhouse.  It's probably going to be a mistake but I'm going to head
> down there.  They told us to look for help from the natives."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 20:57]
> 
> "I should have left the farmhouse alone.  As I came around the corner of
> it
> I ran into two enemy soldiers.  We saw each other at the same time.  I was
> able to squeeze off a few rounds and took one out before I ducked behind
> the
> chimney.  I think that saved my life.  Whatever they're using cuts through
> wood like butter but the brick offered at least some protection.
> 
> I heard the other one running toward me and I jumped out firing when he
> got
> close.  We collided and I passed out.
> 
> I woke up with him on top of me.  Dead.  They're heavier than they look by
> about half.  Lanky but really solid.  I broke at least two ribs running
> into
> him.  They stink just as badly as the crab-things.
> 
> I figured if anybody else was around they would have made an appearance by
> now so I went into the farmhouse.  It was small.  The embers in the
> fireplace were still glowing.
> 
> I found the family in a bedroom... along with two more of the crab-things.
> Feeding.  I took them out with my last two rounds.  The family - I think
> there are three of them, maybe four - had been dead for at least a few
> hours.
> 
> I might have been able to do something if I had come down earlier."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 21:28]
> 
> "I think I passed out again but not for long, the embers are still hot.
> The
> pain in my head is getting worse and the cracked ribs aren't helping.  I
> found some brandy in the cupboard; it took the edge off.
> 
> I'm going to scrounge some gear and get out of here.  It's too hot.  I...
> I
> don't think I'm going to go into the bedroom again."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 22:28]
> 
> "I tried to strip the enemy bodies but I couldn't figure out how in the
> dark.  I grabbed up the weapons - heavier than they look as well - but I'm
> not sure how to use them yet.  They don't look like any gun I'm used to.
> I
> was able to drag one of the bodies into the farmhouse and risked building
> up
> the fire a bit for light.  I covered the windows as best I could.
> 
> Maybe they did gas us, or maybe it's the head-wound making me loopy, but
> this guy just isn't human.  The blood is green.  It doesn't burn but I've
> got a nasty rash and it's raising boils wherever it hit my skin.
> 
> Their faces... their faces are hard to describe.  Six eyes.  Six.  In a
> line
> across the face.  The mouth is like a lizard's - something out of
> 'National
> Geographic'.  Sharp teeth, big fangs.  No real nose... just holes where
> one
> would be.  Those feather/spike things that I thought were part of the
> uniform are part of them - like spines.  They've got claws on their hands
> and-- wait.  I hear something."
> 
> 
> 
> [11 JUL 51, 22:31]
> 
> "There's a troop coming up the hill.  I don't think they saw me yet.  Two
> of
> them look enormous.  At least 15' tall and carrying cannons the size of
> Buicks.  I've got to run.  The radio's too heavy for me now and the
> battery
> won't last much longer anyway, this will be my last transmission.
> 
> I'm going to circle around and try to meet up with that squad if I can.
> If
> not - I hope somebody's listening - please tell my folks that I did my
> best
> and I'm sorry I let them down."
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 

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