If the Reds were bored, then that meant they would soon be upon the Allied lines. Marcia figured the Russians and their cheery friends would have had a ball raping, looting and pillaging any towns and villages they came across, if the propaganda was to be believed. To be honest, if that were the case, there would be a hell of a lot more smoke billowing in the distance and crying refugees piling in.<br/><br/>"Can't say, Corporal Perry," Marcia replied without missing a beat. She had no orders last she noticed, so besides the unsettling "you're on your own, good luck" to keep her company, the lieutenant was forced to think on her feet. "Personally, I'd like to stay put and hold the line. We have our lines mapped out and we know who's on them, so in that regard, we have the advantage." Marcia patted her kneecaps and stood up to look towards the east. "Buuuuuut... The best defense is a good offense. Between you and me, we don't know what's out there. A recon pa-"<br/><br/>She shot a double-take towards the approaching Colonel, and once Marcia realized who he was and why he was talking to her, she swiveled on her heel and snapped a crisp salute with great speed and precision as expected of a novice officer amongst bigger fish.<br/><br/>"Sir!"<br/><br/>This man was Colonel Micheal Joffre, or<i>'Napoleon'</i>to those who knew him better. Apparently he was a Major a while ago before command bumped him up. Marcia hadn't read the man's file; she only knew of him from what the others said. But now that he was here and barking orders at her, Marcia found herself standing there in stunned silence. The Frenchman told her to clean up this trench/dugout position, dispose of the dummy machinegun that Perry rigged up and... besides blather on like a lunatic itching to bust a cap in some incompetent officers, wherever they were, basically told her to use her influence to get her people together.<br/><br/><i>What the fuck?</i><br/><br/>And then there was this FFL woman wandering after the Colonel like a lost puppy, or more accurately, like the old man's caretaker (which wasn't fair, considering the man looked to be in his mid-thirties). Though she outranked Corporal Perry there, the way she... Marcia felt bile build up in her system as her head spun. Her immaturity threatened to shine through, but professionalism demanded to be in control.<br/><br/>"Yes sir," Marcia replied. She could see shuffling in the distance and noticed some logistics or rear-echelon personnel bringing up an M240G, a 7.62 MG, for her- or rather, for Perry- to take care of along with boxes of ammunition. "Thank you sir. We'll deploy the MG as soon as this fighting position is cleaned up."<br/><br/>Thank goodness the Lieutenant didn't hiss anything under her breath. She was tempted; devilishly tempted. She didn't want to get on the Colonel's bad side, but at the same time, she questioned his order. Surely someone else needed that M240G, and Perry's dugout seemed perfect to her untrained eye- a big shining target for the enemy to waste their munitions on and reveal their forces. But on the other hand, should things get worse, the fighting position could do with some firepower. In the end, Marcia was a Lieutenant following orders, and she had little insight to how others around her thought.<br/><br/>Marcia took a few steps forward to stop the Colonel before he could get too far away.<br/><br/>"Sir! Permission to send out a reconnaissance patrol?"