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Gunnery Sergeant Arthur Brosmius Part. 1
Posted By: Sgt. Hardick<thug13669@yahoo.com>
Date: 5 November 2006, 2:06 pm
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"Hell yeah we finally get to see some god damn action, now that's what im talking about"... That's all I can remember hearing after the briefing. Marines who had never seen action, never known what it felt like as hundreds of plasma shots whizzed by your head, striking friends and fellow soldiers. My name? Never really thought it was that important, but for the record its Gunnery Sergeant Arthur Brosmius. This is my audio log, figured I'd leave something behind incase I die.
The date is January 27th, 2547. My platoons stationed on the destroyer, Homers Odyssey. Where part of a task force being sent to retake some back water colony no one onboard has ever heard of. The air smells of the marines typical gun-ho attitude towards danger.
My Lieutenant's a new guy fresh from the academy on Mars, odds are he wont be alive after our first engagement. Were only four days out from our objective, but the men act as though we'll be fighting in a few hours. Everywhere I look marines are bragging about how they'll become the companies best soldier, get the most kills, or be the first person shot. God damn if people would just take this war seriously then we might have a chance. End Log.
It is now January 30th, and it has been two days since my last entry. Not much has happened since then though. In two hours we'll have a mission briefing, which will just help to remind me of the bad things that will happen in the next 72 hours. I've done everything I could to prepare my squad for combat.
Seems like im the only person on this damn ship that's had any combat experience. That's the problem with fighting these damned alien empires, they train from birth to kill humans. Ha, well at least my sense of humors intact. Ah well I can see the lieutenant coming so I guess ill just end there. End Log.
February 1st, 2547. We've loaded onto our D77-TC "Pelican" drop ships, and are awaiting the go order. Command wants us to land in an enemy held city, retake it street by street, then defend it until the boys in blue can beat back the Covenant fleet. Well I don't think anyone bothered to ask what happens if we lose the space battle. As I scan the faces of the men around me, none of them show fear, that's how you can distinguish between rookies and the battle hardened.
Those of us who have seen action are scared shit less. "Codeword Romeo, I repeat Codeword Romeo. All units are to commence orbital drop now. Good luck boys, gods speed.". Well here we go, it would figure some smart ass just put on the marine anthem. I would have preferred to die in silence. [Static Disruption Detected: Further Transmissions may be inaudible.] Heading down... Triple A everywhere... [Noise removed do to deafening loudness.] Shit... last...hull breach... crash-landing... [User currently unconscious. Ending log.]
February 1st, 2547. Our bird hit hard, pancaking into the surface. We've got two men dead and 3 wounded, so all in all its not a very good start to a botched mission. Thankfully we retrieved the field Med kits before the bird caught fire, so we should be able to help the wounded. Cant raise anybody on the M3542 comm packs, damn pieces of shit never work anymore.
Got two scouts out right now trying to find the rest of our platoon, but for now where on our own. Im gonna pop a Stimulant pack and have a smoke. End Log.
February 2nd, 2547. We found the rest of our company, minus the 24 guys who had already been killed. We left behind another 11 guys at a field medical tent we passed. According to the Captain at the Med tent the landings had been this bad all over the surface. The boys upstairs where taking losses, but they were still fighting. Ah the damn Lieutenants coming, so ill be signing off again. End Log.
February 2nd, 2547. Its around 4 hours since my last message, so far there hasn't been any heavy action. We ran into a small Covenant patrol party, but it wasn't much. Im getting uneasy feelings about this whole mission, but all I can do is make sure I don't die. If all goes well over the next 2 hours then we should be boarding warthogs and proceeding towards the city of Mocha. Odds are that's where I'll die. Im gonna go try and catch at least some sleep, every minute counts in the service. End Log.
February 3rd, 2547. We entered Mocha late last night. The streets are riddled with civilian corpses. Men, Women, Children it doesn't matter, their all dead. Lieutenants got us taking shelter in a UNSC recruiting center of all places. Powers out in most of the city so were just using glow rods right now. Don't wanna light our position up to any Covenant basterds who might be listening.
The windows and doors all of combat barriers outside of them right now, so if anyone attacks us we can just move their and fight them off. We've got both of our M247 gunners on the rooftop, at least those guns give you a false sense of security. The lieutenant actually ordered me to catch some sleep, and that's one order im not going to complain about. End Log.
February 5th, 2547. Sorry that I missed a whole day, but all hell broke loose yesterday morning. A covenant banshee took out most of our warthogs, before he got shot down. Apparently the covenant had been secretly herding us into a rough square, as thousands of their troops now had us surrounded.
Lieutenant sent me and 4 men out to deploy Antilon anti-personal mines and Lotus anti-tank mines. We also set C-12 charges in surrounding buildings, incase we need a quick exit or the enemy occupy them. The 26 of us here have some pretty good firepower.
Last count was 24 MA5B assault rifle with a around 200 magazines, 2 M90 shotguns with 100 shells each, 2 S2-AM snipers rifles, and my favorite toy of all time, one M7057 Flamethrower. And to think its all mine.
Add to that the varying grenades and we should be able to hold out for a while.
Enemy movements are getting close to our position, so ill have to let go for now. Shit "Fire, Fire, Light those Covenant SOB's up.[Rifle fire detected around user, system shutting down to protect user.] End Log.
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