{This Style Is} Warfare {New To Me} [Mature Content]

|| This style is new to me, so setting & outline may be crap ||

Another war has been started in Vietnam, with all of the modern equipment, planes, bombs, machine guns. Gruesome. Another load of british troops have been sent in, and are currently raging through the forests looking for cover. As the young men flee for their lives, guns heavy on their chests, the enemy planes are flying over, pinpointing each and every one of them. Deafening bangs as bombshells are exploding behind them, many good soldiers are losing their lives. And outside the forest it is not at all good either. Tanks are storming the sands and the roads, native people are being evacuated. So many good men dying, this place is certainly not good to make friends. Those words slipping from almost each and every one of their lips. "Tell my family I love 'em."

The army are training up more volunteers, the age minimum eighteen years of age, just what they need, young fit men. And though this war was not ours, we still joined, and now we are another added enemy to these people. After all, it was us that invaded them in their war. Will this war ever end? Will anyone get out alive? If they do, surely they must get bravery awards, for just surviving, but does the system work that way? I think not.

As the war eventually draws to an end, the men are taken into a hospital to be treated before flying back over to their home country, many of them having taken shots for fellow soldiers. Their Sergeant is seriously injured, having lost many of his limbs, and as for these young men, will they ever get back to a normal life? Will they ever decide to become part of another war?

|| Here are a few rules etc:
1. Try your very best not to power play
2. To make this a war, I suppose we really do need two sides, so you will have to just state which side you are on, the English or the people of Vietnam.
3. Men must be over 18, and sadly this is not a role play for female characters, as they tend to not be sent over to war, though is you really wish, you may be a female.
4. Try make it somewhat realistic ||

The heavy boots of Craig Taylor slammed against the ground, he was one of the English invaders in this war. His medium length, deep brown hair flicking as he looked from side to side at his fellow soldiers. Each and every one of them running for their lives. The voices could not be heard as the planes flew overhead, the ground shaking as the explosions erupted.

His body hit the floor, arms struggling in front of him as he 'army crawled' through the mud and cover. His camouflaged uniform soiled and bloody. They were approaching the river. As her crawled, one of his legs was being dragged, he had been shot, and certainly not treated, there was no time. Sweating like hell, he rolled beneath a tree and some shrubs. Staring up above him at a plane. The earth groaned. He had to get up, or he would be engulfed in fire. Breathing heavily, he skidded to a halt, the planes flying ahead to the other side, no more currently coming.

Craig could see the tanks storming around, the men falling, the fire. His dirty face frowning, but he was so very relieved he had made it out alive. And though his fellow men had not, he would at least be surviving another couple of minutes. He was as safe as he could be beside the river, though he would be much safer in the hidden base camp. His leg needed treating, but for now, it could wait.

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