So the Sargeant and Private banded together like brothers to carry out the Lieutenant's orders. Marcia wanted to smile at that- she really did- but with all the doom and gloom and grand speeches being flung about, the woman settled for a tired, relieved grimace. She plucked a few strands of chocolate-colored hair and tucked them behind her ears before turning back to her post and to logistical reports, radios, documents and runners with much to talk about but very little to say. But there wasn't anything new to mull over, and with the threat of an enemy invasion looming over the heads of every soldier, even if there was the opportunity to double-check notes and logistic reports, there were better things to do. Even a Sargeant and Private could see that- perhaps they knew it all along and jumped at the opportunity to get out of this Observation Post.<br/><br/>In due time Marcia would have to seek out her weaponry hanging near the exit. She had fired her weapons many times before, but she had no combat experience. Perhaps in the coming hours that would change.<br/><br/>"Colonel Joffre?" Marcia was only able to hear the tail-end of what the French colonel had to say before the man stormed outside. She wanted to follow him and perhaps get a little advice out of him, but from the way he moved and brandished his cigarette it seemed clear that he needed a moment to himself. "Hmm. Well, aren't we just a smorgasbord of countries?"<br/><br/>The colonel had assumed command, and with his gruff nature and assertive personality, Marcia supposed he was the best man for the job. She also heard about his order- sending out a few patrols to find men and women who had turned their radios off- and thought about going out to find some more sergeants who could see all that through. Hell, with how little things were changing at this point, Marcia had the urge to pick up her guns and attach herself to a patrolling squad. Before she knew it, the Latino had her pistol in hand and was making sure that she didn't have a round chambered.<br/><br/>As she stood in the tent flap opening, Marcia caught sight of a ghost. It was an average blonde thing with pale, peachy skin, and though anywhere else it would look alive, out here the thing looked dead. Marcia could tell this woman was American, and like the young private from before, this was someone from the Marines. A veteran from the looks of things too, as no woman could pull off that tired, numb look without having seen a lot of shit. And yet here she was as a Corporal while an obviously green Lieutenant looked on. It was almost humorous.<br/><br/>"Corporal?" Marcia spoke to the blonde as she lowered her weapon into its holster. "Corporal," she tried again, "how are you holding up?"