Post by Matthew "King" Walker on Jan 30, 2010 19:41:22 GMT -6
Basic Information
Name:Matthew Walker
Call sign: “King”
Radio Call Sign:
Age: 26
Rank: Sergeant
Branch: British Royal Marine Commandos.
MOS Marine
Date Of Birth:24/07/1990
Place Of Birth:Poole, England
Country Of Origin: England
Appearance/Other
Height:183cm
Weight: 106KG
Hair Color:Brown
Hair Style:Short, #2
Eye Color:Blue
Personality: Walker is a fairly laid back Marine in the barracks, but takes discipline and obedience very seriously.
Likes:
- A good and proper British meal
- Reliable soldiers
- A reliable rifle
-
Dislikes:
- Disobedience
- Laziness
History
[/center][/color]Bio: With the global war taking off and the American invasion, support was sent from all over the world. Walker is a Platoon commander in the Royal Marine Commando’s, 42 Commando, which was sent over to America as the initial British assistance.
After a few months of hard fighting, the experienced Sergeant Walker was offered the chance to join the Special Forces taskforce. He leapt at the chance, becoming SNCO of Team 2 of ITF-120.
Weapons/Other
[/center][/color]Primary: L85A2. SUSAT 4x, L17A2 UGL
Secondary: L107A1 (P226)
Melee: 7 ¼” Knife
Other Equipment:Extra 5.56 and 9mm ammo. Binoculars, smoke and frag grenades.
[/left]
Those words were the first coherent thoughts to cross his mind as he crawled atop the small hill and peered over. His personal mantra was the second. "If the attack is going well, you've walked in to an ambush."
He lowered the binoculars, turned around, and pushed slightly, sliding down the muddy incline. He held his M4 high off the ground, to make sure no mud got in to it to screw the weapon up. It was a reliable gun, but it didn't pay to tempt fate.
The platoon was at the bottom, making a loose circle using bushes, trees, rocks, anything that could provide cover. He took yet another look at the weapons. The bulk of them were M4s or M16s, but a trio of M249s and a pair of mortars would give help.
"Enemy are dug in, small rocky outcrop. I see about two squads, 4 machine guns." He stopped for a second, reaching round to his canteen and dropping two large gulps down his throat.
"First and second squads. Move on the right flank. I want as much cover as possible, right?" Nods and confirmations. "Mortars, I want you to put down suppression. Whyte, PFC Andrews, take a Minimi go to the top of the ridge and direct the mortars. Zero with HE, smoke, the more HE. Third squad, with me."
"Move!"
The command was a harsh whisper, and silently the men set to it. The three squads formed up behind behind their respective leaders, and began moving towards the brow of the hill, keeping low so nobody on the other side could see anything.
The mortars were pointed in the general direction of the enemy, and the M249 at the top of the hill set in to position, boxes of ammunition stuck on the bipod to hold it in position. Walker signalled towards the PFc manning the gun and an order was called out, "Fire!"
Two rounds went flying in the air, and Matthew began moving, his squad behind him as he vaulted the top of the hill and began running down, his weapon over his chest ready to fire. Machine gun fire began hither and thither, both from the "Allies" and the enemy, but he kept moving, zig-zagging and using the sparse growth as cover. His boots were slipping a centimeter or so in to the mud with every step, but he carried on, before stopping abruptly, crouching behind a rock. He picked up the small personal radio and slipped his binoculars out from inside his armour, and had a quick look at the enemy position.
"Mortars. Three degress, counter clockwise. Slight increase in elevation"
A brief confirmation and two explosions rang out, with screams confirming a hit. "Smoke!"
Two large clouds began billowing from just in front of the enemy position. Walker took occasional glances at them un til he was satsisfied they were big enough.
"Go, go, go!" He moved with his squad, leaping through the mud, panting with the effort but getting over the open field towards the enemy position. The rocky outcrop was awash with smoke, but as soon as they arrived, sparse rifle fire came on to them, two men were hit, screaming horrible sounds and collapsing in to the mud. Matthew bent down quickly, pulling a grenade from the chest harness of one and pulled off the safety ring. He kept his fingers tight around the handle to stop the fuse beginning and pysched himself up. He let the handle out, stood up and twisted, letting the small explosive package land in the midst of the enemy. He dropped down again, pulled his M4 in to his shoulde and signalled for the men behind him. The second it exploded, he stood up and walked through the smoke. He fired a few quick bursts at bodies on the floor, unsure if they were dead or wounded, but there was no confusion by time he was done. [/size]
