A Word Too Far

Hmm....Nice. My first fanfic reading and well...I'm a little lost as to whats actually happening.

*checks back* yay, I'm a private XD ...somewhere.

Keep it up, and post! I want to know what happens next!

I will not be held responsible for someone being bitten in the face.

Anyway, I might do some next week or today ... maybe. But I always say that.

*has been waiting for far too long*

*shakes fist angrily*

Hurry up, damn you! I hvae no patience, gaaaaarhh I just want to bite someone in the face! But ... that would have nothing to do with your stalling. No, absolutely not.

This is great Jack! Can't believe I only just found it... that's what I get for just looking at the posts from after I last logged in.

Hehe, and I'm a sergeant! Um... I have absolutely no idea how ranks work or anything, but it sounds good.

*waits for next installment*

You are Sab! *looks up details* You're a Sergeant in Fox Company.

Dude. this is amazingly amazing. I'm loving it too much to be a (in the words of Mesh) Crazy-editor.

I am assuming I will be mentioned in it too? If so I would love to find out what I am.

Dude it's totally me. You're mad cuz you die later in mine

I wrote a couple of paragraphs for the next chapter, so expect an update this week ... maybe.

Someone dies! Who will it be?

Hehe, Dono, I'll make sure I get some done come the end of November.

DD >> Thanks

Hey Jack -- did you ever flashy-thing me? ^_~

This is awesome. Way too awesome. I love it.

If you don't write more of this after NaNo, I would watch your back, Jacko--you know YWS loves a good FanFic.

That was really long, but great! I'd love to see more!
Pandora

Yay i mentioned heh and like how you made that comment about me member everyone wants to shoot heh. Keep it up i'm enjoying this yay i'm mention .

Tsk tsk, Jack. Those are not excuses! I demand to see more! *Slams fist down on desk*

Just kidding. Take your time; I know how busy life can be.

Uh, I'll have to find some time. Between interviews, jobhunting, staying at my girlfriend's house and planning for NaNoWriMo, my time has disappeared.

However! I must do another chapter sooon.

That post was almost two week ago. Get a move on!

I had a bad day yesterday, and then I went out and had a good night (hence: no writing time). Updates this week some time ...

What's taking so long, dammit! Hurry up, there's a war going on!

When I say "every" member, I mean a member that's been here a while and I know them at least by name. Every other member I don't really know is automatically a Private.

If you do have it written, go ahead and send it to me, it might help for future fan-fics.

Heehee, this is awesome!

And do you really have every member listed out? 'Cause that's crazy (not entirely bad, either! ;P).

(If you didn't guess) I love this!


If you ever want nit-picks, I'm more than glad to do so, but I'm enjoying this too much to be crazy-editor at the moment.

OMG I love this story!!!!!! You're so talented at everything Jacko!!!!! Geez, from dramatic poetry to fanfic you've got it all! *applauds*

Wiggy

P.S. Can't wait for more!

One can't but admire the chapter titles.

Dno likes being a BAMF...lovin this Jacko!

Sweet! I'm in this one!
And I have a machine gun!
And I didn't die!

Very nice. I've always liked your action stories. You describe things very well. (Action scenes are so hard for me to write.)

Claudette backed away (slowly) and worked her way next to the machine-gunner, Waffles, as the column crossed a small road. They darted across and then passed through a crack in a stone wall.

"So you been at YWS long?" Claudette asked, hoping to talk to somebody normal.

"About a year."

"That's nice."

"Yeah."

"Mhm."

"Uh-huh."

Lol, DQ's finally seeing some action. So, is YWS fanfiction what we all turn to now, when we need to break writing blocks? If thats the case, then I'm overdue. Seriously.

Good Work, fast paced and amusing.

Nice, funny and with action. Sweet job, with everything so far.

So intense!

I like how you start every chapter (so far) with just a "he" or "she", so we don't know who it is at first. Very cool.

Mmm. I agree about the chapter titles, Imp. ^.^

More, Jack, more!!

One can't but admire the chapter titles.

"So what?" Sureal quipped back.

"I swear I didn't fire that mortar, Captain," quirked Sureal, with a grin.

2. Where Authors Dare

He winced in pain. The bullet that had entered into his leg meant he couldn't crawl fast without effort. He was lying down, the wet grass brushing against his skin. Risking a glance behind him, he saw no movement. But he had fought enough to know they were simply waiting for him to stand up before opening fire. Trapped. He kept his head low, and surveyed the surroundings before him. Just two hundred yards in front of him, he knew, was the entrance to the sewers. In the same instant he knew he couldn't use it. They'd followed him the whole way, bullets zipping behind him and beside him. To simply lead them in the direction of the YWS headquarters would be devastating.

No. He couldn't use the entrance, yet he couldn't move. An old-fashioned stalemate. He couldn't radio in for support either, because he'd give away his position. The best thing to do was to stay low and stay still. Unfortunately, though, his time wasn't unlimited; as soon as the morning soon began to rise and dawn began anew, his position would be compromised and he would need some cover. He wished he could get to the entrance without them knowing it. It seemed an impossible task, but he knew no other way. If they did by any chance follow him, hopefully their arrogance would lead them into not contacting anyone else the location, and a YWS force could overwhelm and kill them.

He knew there were at least four. The four that ambushed us. Private Nai and Arvy were missing, presumed dead. Colonel Nate had been captured. He, Sergeant MetalHead, was the only known survivor of a hit-and-run attack that had caught them all by surprise. They had worked their way toward their destination as soon as nightfall fell, the small party the Colonel had selected as protection. Three tough, experienced soldiers that had fought as good as or better than anyone else. The Editors had known exactly where they would be. There was no other explanation for the high-precision ambush that had left them bewildered. They'd encountered constant fire from two directions, one a heavy machine-gun that had caught Nai in the shoulder, the other a party of several firing into them. One had entered his leg. The other had smashed through Arvy's spine. The Sergeant had retreated with the Colonel to a ditch beside a road, but they were completely and outnumbered, unable to match the enemy's stronger firepower.

MetalHead remembered pulling the Colonel from the ditch as a grenade exploded. Shrapnel had caught Nate in the leg and he'd collapsed. MetalHead had paused, and considered dragging him, but a repositioned machine gun had laid down ferocious fire toward him and he'd been forced to run. A run which had led him to here: cold, wounded, trapped, just two-hundred yards from his escape route which he couldn't use.

He felt a pain of regret for not saving Nate. He was their leader, the man who had started it all, the one who had stood up and refused to back down. Everyone loved him. And there he was, in the hands of the enemy. He realised if they were going to have any chance of saving him, it would have to be this night to stage a counter-attack. But he needed to get to the base first.

Something snapped to the right of him.

He immediately drew up his AK-47, but refrained from firing. He couldn't work out exactly where the movement occurred; besides, he might kill one, but the rest would kill him.

Rifle fire burst from somewhere, lighting up the darkness for a few brief seconds. Who the heck was that? They weren't firing at him. He decided to stay low, since it might be a trick to try and force him to stand and give away his position. Shots were heard again. And again. It was all happening to the right of him again. There were two different parties firing at one another, and Sergeant MetalHead saw his chance. With them pinned down, he began to crawl. The pain in his leg tried to prevent him from moving, but he pushed through it, grimacing all the time. He made slow progress, but he felt relief at finally being able to move. The firefight was still alive. It eased a little. Now it seemed like there was only one person firing, solitary rifle shots ringing out. He heard a cry, and the rustling of branches. Another shot. Then silence.

He still didn't know who was winning, so he kept crawling, the entrance hole only one-hundred and fifty yards away. Something told it was safe though, and he went up on one knee, his eyes keen and his trigger finger ready.

Then a call. "Pat!"

MetalHead grinned. "Buchanan!" he shouted back, suddenly recognising the caller was Nai, shot in the ambush. Did he just kill all of those Editors?

Sergeant MetalHead stood up, and hopped on the spot as the weight on his right leg was too painful. He managed to balance himself, barely, and saw a dark figure dart from the trees, across the road, and onto the field.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," MH said.

Nai smiled, his face dirty with soil and blood marks. "Right back at ya. Now let's get home, before some other son of a bitch decides to shoot at us."

***

Everyone was either shocked, angry or upset when MetalHead briefed the news to the nearest officer, Captain Dono. That didn't mean that every soldier nearby hadn't crowded round. Nate was the figurehead of the YWS. He was YWS. Without Colonel Nate, they were nothing.

Dono was all action. "Lieutenant Grif! I want every member of 1st Platoon of Easy right here, right now."

Frenzied calls echoed through the room. Before long, thirty or so soldiers had fallen in in front of Captain Dono.

"I need eight soldiers. We're going to get him back. We're going to have to move fast, and under heavy fire. I don't want any heroics. I'd ask for volunteers, but we're all volunteers anyway." He spoke confidently. He was in his element. "Lieutenant Grif, Sergeant Smaur and Bob, Corporal Sureal, Private DQ, Waffles and Fontroy, you're with me. Weapons and ammo only."

With the exception of Waffles, who carried the Bren gun, an old light machine gun; every other soldier carried small arms, mostly rifles, but with a few submachine-guns. They stocked up on grenades. Although tiredness could be seen on all their faces, they were lit up by a new determination. Saving Colonel Nate would be worth it, whatever casualties.

Captain Dono was grabbing extra ammo when Claudette stepped up next to him. "I want to volunteer, sir."

"You're the new one?"

"Yeah." She looked at him with hope in her eyes.

"You don't have any experience."

She took a nearby pistol, loaded and cocked it in one impressive move, shoving it into her holster. "I have some basic medical skills. I trained to be a doctor before dropping out."

Dono froze. "Fine, Private, fall in." Claudette grabbed some bandages and some morphine.

The nine of them exited the base, grim looks on all.

Ten minutes later and they had made it outside. They walked in a standard tactical column, with DQ as point and Sergeant Bob at the rear. The first signs of light could be seen on the horizon, red and orange glows dispersing the darkness. The squad kept close to cover and avoided too much open ground. It was possible the enemy had anticipated a quick counter-attack and had prepared an ambush. Claudette, positioned in the middle of the column, was taking deep breaths.

"You never been in combat?" Corporal Sureal asked, as he chewed some gum.

"No."

"Well, here at YWS we have an initiation ... custom," he said, in a serious tone.

"And what does that entail, Corporal?"

"We give you a chance to back out. This is the point of no return. You choose to stay on, you can fight with us. Otherwise, you go back to base and become a propaganda writer, or something like that." Sureal stopped for a moment, to check in the distance. "Basically, you got two choices."

Claudette nodded.

"You can take the red pill, or the blue pill." With that he burst out laughing.

Private Fontroy walked up to Sureal and punched him on the arm.

"You messing with the newbies again?"

"So what?" Sureal quipped back.

"That's against literary rule #6."

"What! That's only to do with writing."

Claudette left them to their arguing, and moved forward slightly, to see Sergeant Smaur and Lieutenant Grif having an intense debate about punctuation.

"Clearly, a healthy mix of semi-colons and commas is the best option," Smaur said.

"I find semi-colons to break the flow of the piece. More commas is always better."

"Excessive commas just make too many run-on sentences!"

"Nuh-uh!" said Grif.

"Yeah-uh!" replied Smaur.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Shut up, you too," said Captain Dono, breaking up the argument. "Everyone knows when Smaur talks about grammar, punctuation, writing in general, Canada or kitten cuisine, everyone else should listen."

Claudette backed away (slowly) and worked her way next to the machine-gunner, Waffles, as the column crossed a small road. They darted across and then passed through a crack in a stone wall.

"So you been at YWS long?" Claudette asked, hoping to talk to somebody normal.

"About a year."

"That's nice."

"Yeah."

"Mhm."

"Uh-huh."

DQ as point stopped and raised a clenched fist. Everyone dropped down to a crouched position. They were at the side of a field, covered on the left by a wall and a canvas of trees, while on their right they were totally open. Captain Dono worked his way slowly along to the front to talk to the Private. All Claudette could hear was hushed whispers. Captain Dono followed DQ's pointed arm away toward their right. Claudette looked to.

As they sat there, with the morning beckoning, light brightening the sky, there was a whistle and then a short explosion twenty yards in front of them, throwing dirt into the air.

"Get in cover!" screamed Dono, and the squad without reluctance threw themselves over the low wall beside them. Two more explosions rattled beside them, this time closer. A machine-gun opened up, the tracer evident still in the low light. The bullets smashed against the stone cover.

"Keep your heads down! Keep your heads down, goddamnit!" shouted Dono, pushing Fontroy's helmet towards the ground.

"What do we do, sir?" shouted Sergeant Bob.

"Wait till they reload!" he shouted, over the noise of the machine-gun fire. A few more mortar shots exploded by them, one just in front of the wall, tearing it apart. Waffles, exposed by the destruction, dived to his left.

The machine-gun suddenly went silent. "Grif, take half the squad and pull them back to that ditch," he commanded, pointing backward to the other side of the field, where the ground dipped beside the road. "Covering fire!"

Waffles set up his machine-gun with Fontroy and they opened up, the bullets tearing across the field toward where the enemy's machine-gun had pinned them down. Dono threw his submachine-gun and pulled the trigger, with Bob and Grif providing extra fire. Grif pulled back with Claudette, DQ, Sureal, Smaur toward the safer ground.

"Keep the machine-gun firing, you two! Give us about ten seconds to leave and then go yourselves!" Captain Dono ordered.

They dropped back, leaving the light machine-gun to pin down the enemy machine-gun, which had managed to open up again. They quickly met up with the rest of the squad at the ditch. They all watched as Waffles and Fontroy left the wall, and sprinted across the field. The squad was beckoning them, gesticulating for them to get back as quickly as possible. An explosion ripped in front of them, knocking both Privates off their feet. Dono jumped up and ran over. Waffles was back on his feet quickly, but Fontroy was down, blood seaping from his left arm.

"Help me get him back!" commanded Dono, and together they dragged the wounded soldier back to the ditch.

"Claudette! Get over here."

The new girl pushed through, saw the blood, and immediately got into action. "Put some pressure on his wound, Captain," she said, and Dono did what she ordered, gripping both his hands on the Private's arm. Fontroy groaned in pain. Claudette unwrapped a bandage, moved Dono's hand and tightened it up, and then gave him some morphine through the thigh.

"He's gotta get back to the base and be treated."

"Private!"

Fontroy sat up slightly, stretching his eyes open as if he'd just woken up. "Cap'n?"

"Can you make it back to base on your own?"

"Sure, sir," Fontroy replied, "I'll be okay."

The wounded soldier put his helmet back on, grabbed his rifle, and climbed out of the ditch with some help.

"You know, he once won the award of Member You'd Most Like To Shoot," Captain Dono murmured, with a smile.

"I swear I didn't fire that mortar, Captain," quirked Sureal, with a grin.

They retreated further back, and then aimed for their original destination: the co-ordinates given to them by Sergeant MetalHead; they looped round the enemy's position to avoid a further firefight, and walked a fast pace.

Cool!

I like this a lot. YWS Fanfiction forever!

Just a little error. .5% is 5/1000 , not 5%. A little more certain.

Well, I needed to pick one new person to fill the role and she seemed the most well-know newbie!

SPEW has found a more edifying end in life than eating kittens. Ha - thanks to Jack. ^_^

'Love it. Poor Claudette is suddenly in the middle of everything though, isn't she? The difficulties of making an impression.

"We gotta stop trusting those literary agents, I'm telling ya. Give me a squad, we'll grab one of them at gunpoint, drag their ass back here and beat it out of them."

Oh yeah, I had to have an Easy Company XD

There's much more to come!

Hahahaha, ZOMG we rule! You just made my day, no my week.



Heehee, Easy Company makes me think of Curahee.

I laughed really hard at the exchange between Xan and Snoink over pretty images.

So, yeah this is... erm AWESOME, and by awesome I mean the old version of awesome.

All she had found was a possible locations

Until a short, unexpected e-mail had landed in her spam folder, with no name attached.

Ooooo...I'm an officer! Sweet! A fanfic by Jacko? This should be...hm...what's the word...AWESOME.



I'll come back and read this more in depth when I'm not sitting in class with a stats teacher glaring at me.