Halim 'China' Liu Li Wen, callsign 'Abnormal Survivor' was just looking over to the far western horizons from his seat. The Asian-American soldier was sitting at the passenger seat of the UH-1 Huey, the transport chopper for the United States' Armed Forces, more specifically, the 1st Cavalry Division, most known by the name of 'Air Cavalry' in the ranks. The twenty-one year old soldier stared blankly at his standard issue AR-15 rifle, occasionally playing with the safety lock of the said long, black rifle.
He could hear several chatters from his own team, a division from the 222nd Army Battalion, the B-Company, or the Bad Company, dubbed by most of the veterans out there. The battalion had the highest mortality and MIA rates out of all the forces out there, both the normal Infantry Division and the South Vietnamese Army combined, since the division itself was mostly consisted of poorly trained soldiers, hell-raisers, trouble-makers, and others that're deemed 'expendable' by the main force, 'The first ones in, and the last ones out', 'Cannon Fodder', and many other monikers were called out to 'honor' this battalion.
The Bad Company was even worse. Most of the US Marine Corps' recruits went over here to get their 'first taste of battles against the NVA', hence the many happy-go-lucky FNG idiots scattered around and about. Most of them are spouting about they're going to set the forest on fire with their guns and flamethrowers or what not... the next second and, boom, they're gone, either by mortar fire, knife to the throat, fire on their body, or a bullet deep in their heads. Those who're lucky enough to survive their first contact would be transferred to the main force. One's transfer to the 222nd could be considered as a death sentence or a punishment.
Bad Company was more like a shock-trauma team for the rookies out there, a 'test' if you wish. Live through a patrol through the jungle, then, you pass, die, you fail. Simple as that. Well, anyways, welcome to the 1960's 'Nam. A place where one could call hell and heaven at the same time. I mean, there're forests to burn, guns to fire, villages to be destroyed, government to be conquered, bitches to be fucked, dead comrades to be cried over, shit to blow up, and more blood to spill on the field. What more could you ask for?
The Indonesian-Chinese-American Sergeant mopped his dirty, tanned face with his free, but also dirty gloved hand, trying to get a better view of his surroundings. Aside from the chatters and some jokes of his team, he could also hear some bits and pieces of the Creedence Clearwater Revival, abbreviated CCR's Fortunate Son, a rather popular song in the force, played through the open radio channels of the USAF, but most of them were left unheard, because of the loud whirring noises of the Huey chopper.
The sun was already rather low in the skies, coloring the high ceilings of the world with an unimpressive orange blotch. Clouds were hanging low, more dull gray with some water particles stored inside them. It was going to rain, and soon, but he still carried out his orders. Breaking his staring contest with the skies, he averted his gaze to the jungle grounds below, he could still smell the gunpowder and the gasoline that was used in the F-4 Phantoms' Napalm bomb strikes. A firefight had happened near the area. It was to secure the AO to make an outpost of the USMCs.
The region's name? Khe Sanh River. For now, the base was secured, at least by 'living standards' of war-torn officers, although the base itself still received some flak as well as mortar fires, and finally, not forgetting the occasional raides from the NVA more times than he could even count. At least, the main force could still come and go through the airfield. Still, there has to be at least one casualty per day in the Khe Sanh.
"Alright, you lazy-ass greenhorns, listen up!" A gruff, commanding voice entered his ears, even though Abnormal Survivor knew that the order was not directed at him, he still raised his head. His brown eyes fell upon a dark skinned supposed leader of the infantry unit, and his CO, First Lieutenant Samuel Redford. "Quiet down! Quiet down!" He barked, silencing the chatters inside the UH-1, also prompting the pilot to mute the song on the radio.
All mouths were zipped at the command. Most of the rookies turned their faces towards their commanding officer.
Redford shot all of them a sharp look of his own. "Okay, I want you guys to listen to me carefully. I'm sure that most of you've been briefed already back at the base, but I'm also sure that most of you were to busy jacking off to naked pictures of Viet Cong women."
Some chuckles and suppressed laughs, courtesy of the newbies broke out. Even the Huey pilot himself was smirking, amused at the comment. Liu simply raised an eyebrow, although this went unnoticed, as his eyes were still covered by the reflective goggles he's wearing, but refrained from reacting whatsoever to the 'joke' his leader made.
"Shut up, now." The African-American raised his free left hand to silence the chopper's passenger once more. "Okay, so, I'm just going to repeat what the guys back at the FB said, we're supposed to patrol the surrounding area of the forest. Our objective? Simple, circle around the same damn spot for thirty minutes until sundown. The Huey will be back to pick us up." Explained the lieutenant. "Any questions?"
A hand was raised by a random private, but before he could answer it, Redford puts a finger up to his lips.
"See any NVA? Kill 'em. Simple as that." He answered plainly, automatically answering the unasked question as well. A collective nod and confident smirk were seen on the rookies' faces. "Alright, we'll be arriving at a clearing soon, get yourselves ready, you sorry-ass FNGs!"
China couldn't help but smile a bit on how his CO acts. Among the many soldiers who wished to be just transferred after their time in the Bad Company, Liu and Redford were the only ones who stayed in the squad, effectively making them the 'senior' of the team. Redford treated the Asian as if he was his own little brother, despite the racial differences and the almost ten years age gap between them. Of course, the Sergeant Major himself gave his major respect to the dark skinned lieutenant.
Just a minute later, the UH-1's skids touched the grassy ground of a clearing, dropping down the soldiers inside it. Everyone plopped themselves out of the chopper to an actual land. A seven-man squad, which consisted mainly of rookies assembled on the ground. The Huey took several seconds in, checking the area for any Triple-A flak guns. After making sure that the coast is clear for them to take the skies, the engines of the UH-1 soared back to life.
"This is Vulture 1-1, be advised, Bad Company is on the ground. I repeat, Bad Company is on the ground, RTB to refuel and resupply." The pilot stated over the radio. "Be advised, ground patrol, an hour in, same place for the LZ. Be there, Vulture 1-1 out."
Redford nodded. "Copy that Vulture 1-1, get out of here." He then looked over his assembled squad, and his eyes were planted deep on the Asian. "China." He called out, gaining the attention of the said soldier. "C'mere."
The quiet Sergeant plopped his green, woodland camo'd cap back to cover his short black hair, before walking towards his CO. "Sir?" He asked.
"I want you to round up three guys and scour the East. I'll take two and go to the West, you hear me?"
There was silence before the response. "Sir." Was all the simple and flat reply that came back to him, not even a nod, he turned to leave his lieutenant, but before he was out of reach, Abnormal Survivor felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned back to see his CO, eyes narrowed, slightly glaring at him. "Sir?"
"Look I know that you're still down after what happened today, but I need you to focus for now, alright?" Requested the African-American, which ironically sounds more like a demand to him.
A soured look was visible for a split-second on Liu's face. "I know, sir." For good reasons, he despised the moniker Abnormal Survivor, a title he had earned for surviving many battles while he's in the Bad Company.
"Good kid." The taller dark-skinned man patted the Asian's head. "Alright, Kowalski, and you uh... Pete, right? You guys are with me. Check your weapons for any jams, we'll leave in five for the West, Ooah?"
"Ooah!" Cried the two marines, doing as ordered.
The Asian walked over to the other side of the group. Three young American greens, and their lives are his responsibility for now. "Preston Marlowe, Terrance Sweetwater, and George Gordon Haggard Jr., right?" He questioned, pointing at them.
"Sir, yes, sir." Marlowe, was the first one to respond, making a small salute. "Private Preston Marlowe at your service, Sergeant Major."
Sweetwater's reaction to his name being called was much more laid back compared to Marlowe's. "Yep, that's my name. Short, sweet and falls out of the tongue nicely. Nice to see a new face as our squad leader for a change." He chuckled dryly.
Haggard... he was similar in many ways to sweetwater. "In the flesh, boss. Your demolition man is here to blast some NVA shitheads to kingdom come."
There was some kind of an awkward silence for a few seconds. "...Right... I'm Sergeant Major Liu Li Wen, first name Agung. You guys can call me China."
Sweetwater's eyes sparkled a bit at the introduction. "Whoa, Haggard, look! Our new Sarge's being openly racist, on himself, no less!"
His conversational partner smirked as both of them drew themselves closer to their new, but shorter, leader. "Hey, you're right! So we can call you by nicknames, Sarge? Well, I think I got a good one for ya. How 'bout shortstack? It sounds cool and really goes with your height, too!"
Marlowe was quiet, unsure on what to say on the matter at hand. But deep inside, he liked the whole 'shortstack' thing.
The Asian promptly placed a palm on his face. "Okay, okay... just slow down, people. China is just my universal nickname throughout the field, I'm not trying to be racist whatsoever. Secondly, yes, you can call me by nicknames, but please, no shortstack."
Haggard clicked his fingers. "Oh, but what about-"
"...No midget, shorty, height-lacking, loli, and anything that could potentially insult my physical height. Please." Liu replied with a deadpanning tone.
"Awh, you figured it right through us...!" Groaned the glasses wearing soldier, Sweetwater whilst also dropping his head down slightly, signalling his disappointment.
The more quieter private, Marlowe, cleared his throat to gain some attention. "So... uh, Sarge? What should we do now? Do we have our routes?"
The bearded bombardier, Haggard, pumped his China Lake 4x40 Pump Action limited production grenade launcher ready. "I know! we blow stuff up, then kill ourselves some NVA bastards!"
"We'll have their brains for dinner!" Sweetwater added, cheerily for some reason. "And their sluts for supper!"
A cold sweat ran down from Liu's forehead, as a horrified look was also visible on his face for a couple of seconds. "Uh... no." He shook his head. "Listen up, guys. We're gonna go to the East side of this trail. It's gonna a long road, so I want you guys to stay close to me at all times, alright?" A collective nod. "Good. Now, should we encounter any NVAs, wait for my signal to open fire, we can't just blindly shoot someone right off the bat."
"What if they're armed?" Marlowe asked, slightly tightening the grip on his M16A1.
"Still a no. We need to ID them first as a Charlie before we can gun them down." The Asian-American answered. "Just stay low, keep close to me, don't fire any blind shots, and be very, VERY quiet if you want to survive. Clear?"
"Uh-huh." ; "You got it, boss." ; "Yes, sir."
A satisfied nod was given from the young Sergeant. "Right, Marines, time for Oscar-Mike. Ooah?"
"Ooah!" Cried the rest of the team out loud.
"Damn it, Sarge, no one ever told me about this, the itch is just killin' me!" Groaned Sweetwater, scratching multiple parts of his body.
Haggard also seems to be supporting the idea by doing the exact same thing, complaining. "This shit is way more worse than eating ten spoons of cinnamon powders!"
Although the young Marlowe did not say anything on the matter, he did stretched his body at some point, probably the itch getting the best of him.
The detachment squad of the Bad Company was scouring the thick forest near the clearing, just searching for some NVAs, who knows, maybe they've set up a small camp nearby, or using it as a guerrilla's base, waiting the perfect opportunity to strike, or maybe just some scouts near Khe Sanh, trying to get some intel by watching the base from afar; of course, to get the layout of the base, and deliver them to the mortar crews at the far ridges. Although the squad looked like they could take more than twenty NVAs at once, they were not prepared to face one true enemy of man...
Mosquitoes. A lot of mosquitoes.
Liu's reaction was nothing more than a shrug with an indifferent look plastering his face. "Just bear with it. You'll get used to it in a few days. Besides, it's a tropical jungle, what'd you expect? Some sexy girls?"
"Well... kinda..." Admitted Haggard sheepishly.
"God, what did I do to deserve this..." Muttered the Sergeant quietly under his breath.
Sweetwater raised his head. "What was that, Sarge?"
"Nothing~..." Liu innocently looked straight forward to the thick bushes, ignoring the question.
Marlowe suddenly stopped. "Guys, I can hear something..."
This caused the whole squad to go alert and stop themselves dead in their tracks, and assumed a crouched position, concealing themselves behind the thick foliage the area provides for them. Liu instinctively gave a hand signal for the group to stay quiet, in which they sternly complied. Even Sweetwater and Haggard turned serious after the alarming statement from Marlowe. Whole members of the detachment squad readied their slung weapons, also turning off the safeties.
For once, silence seems to be taking over the group. The only thing that made the noises were the bushes, the strong breeze and the almost infinite amount of bugs surrounding them. One could not even hear their nearly non-existent breathing. As a scout, Liu had spent much time honing his senses, starting from his vision, and down to his ears. A few seconds in, and nothing disturbing seems to be entering his ears. He was about to call off the assumed battle formation of his team, and say that it was only a false alarm, until some noises of thick foliage being shoved out of the way broke the nearly deafening silence.
The Asian narrowed his eyes even further, trying to concentrate on the source, true to him and Marlowe, the noise turned louder and louder with each and every passing second, down to the point where Sweetwater and Haggard could also hear them, strangely, they couldn't hear any sounds of machinery, not even soft footsteps. Just some rattling bushes. If it were really the NVAs, they would be more smarter to conceal themselves as well, but this was just asking for a death wish.
The noise was getting dangerously near to them.
"Guys... on my mark, we'll storm them, alright?" Whispered the Sergeant carefully, loud enough for his squad to hear, but not enough for the one who caused the noises.
"Shit, Sarge, are you crazy...?!" Sweetwater protested, releasing the safety lock for his M60 heavy machine gun.
Marlowe frowned. "But... but what if it's a vehicle?"
"Highly unlikely, but if it's really a vehicle... then, Haggard, I need you to stand by with the LAW, understand?" The young Sergeant shot the bearded private a sharp look.
The said bombardier nodded. "Loud and clear, Sergeant Shortstack."
"Alright... One... Two..." He trailed, before suddenly storming off from their cover with his AR-15 ready in hand, and his finger rested on the trigger. "MARK!" He yelled, not half-a-second in, his squad was aiming their weapons down on the same general direction of their lead. "FREEZE! WE HAVE YOU SURROUND-" He suddenly stopped when he saw the image in front of him. "-ed...?"
What they saw afterwards shocked the shit out of them. They're watching a group of girls, eleven girls, to be more exact, just strolling, or rather floating, with some kind of weird ass contraptions on their feet. All of them looked freaking young, they can't be older than 20, probably on their early to late teens, to top their heads off, they are not wearing any kind of pants, sure, they're still wearing their undergarments, but still... walking around half-naked in a war-torn Khe Sanh jungle isn't the most typical thing ever. They also noted that their attires were used during the era of the second World War, finally, they're carrying guns. Big ass guns from the second world war. They could identify some of the antiques that were used, such as MG42s, Type-100s, and the list could still go on. But there's this one thing that Liu can't miss while watching them, although some of them were indeed Asian like him, they're not Vietnamese, and the rest of them who were not Asian're either Europeans or Americans.
After the sudden breach through the shadows, there was just silence. The members of the Bad Company were just too shocked at the view of eleven under-aged girls that are carrying big guns of WWII era and walking around half-naked in the jungle, that they kept a straight face on, while the group of floating girls were also surprised at their sudden entry. All of their eyes were still widened as they were just purely stunned at the whole situation that's unfolding before their eyes.
The silence and shock lasted for at least twenty seconds, until the girls decided to take the initiative first by raising their weapons at the US Marines, although some were seen hesitant on doing so. A red-haired woman that looked like she's on her twenties yelled something in a foreign language, Japanese, summed the Sergeant. Looks like she's the one holding the strings here. The hostile action snapped the Bad Company back onto their reality, and they realized that they're outnumbered.
"What the fuck?!" Sweetwater snapped, although he contained it in a bare whisper. "Shit, are we really seeing this?! This is just so FUBAR, man!"
Haggard gulped as he also switched to his 870 Combat shotgun. "Sweet Mother of God... I'm... I'm dreaming, am I?"
"S-S-S-Sarge? Wh-why are they half-naked...? A-and why are they carrying the guns of World War II...?" For once, someone ACTUALLY understood the situation they're in.
Liu was still dazed at the confusion, but he forced his composure to go back inside him. The lives of these people are his responsibility. "Squad, just shut up and let me do the talking, alright? But what whatever you do, DON'T let your finger go from the trigger." He ordered. "U-uhm... Hello?" He awkwardly began, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
The girls did nothing but kept their aim on the group of males.
"Shit, this isn't fucking working..." Muttered the Asian Marine. Then, he got an idea. He cleared his throat, and calmed himself down. "Hello?" This time, his voice sounded dry, but it was definitely Japanese.
The girls were taken off guard by the Sergeant's knowledge on the language. The red haired girl was the one who reacted, though. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"I could ask you the same thing, ma'am." Replied Liu, letting the sights of his semi-automatic weapon to fall upon the said girl. "What are you guys doing here at a war torn jungle, half-naked, and carrying big guns?"
"Answer my question first, then I'll answer yours." The girl hissed. "Do it, now."
The Chinese-American soldier sighed. "Alright. I'm Sergeant Major Liu Li Wen of the United States' Armed Forces' 222nd Army Battalion, dubbed Bad Company. This is my squad." He paused. "I've filled my part of the bargain, now answer mine."
The girl was mostly confused on the answer she was given. "United States? Bad Company? What?"
"Yes, ma'am, we're from the USAF, the USMC, to be more exact."
The girl went even more confused. "USMC? What are you talking about? Where are we?"
Liu was simply thrown into confusion at the question directed at him. 'Where are they?' Are they really that oblivious? They're currently standing at hell on Earth right now!
The said Sergeant only calmly dropped his assumed battle position, lowering his gun as well, shocking the ones who're watching his moves. "You're at Khe Sanh... Vietnam."
For What It's Worth
A Strike Witches work of fiction
Quote of the Day:
"There's battle lines being drawn; nobody's right if everybody's wrong." - Buffalo Springfield's For What It's Worth, 1966. [Song]
Author's Notes:
Hello there, people, I doubt you have seen me before, so, hello there!
I'm presenting you my first M rated work, For What It's Worth, with the title was based on Buffalo Springfield's song of the same name. I was just trying to mash something up with the already fantastic universe of Strike Witches, I've seen others mashing things up with real life modern timelines, but I've never really seen one fic that featured the Vietnam War in it, so I decided to make one. But since the Vietnam War's shrouded in pretty dark things, I've also decided to make this fic to go to live up to the more darker times on the war.
So be warned, there will be massive number of curses, brief mentions of nudity, and moderate number of gores inside this fic.
Note: I don't plan any lemons or any Yuri pairings as of now, though. Maybe brief and light sequences, but nothing that could make this fic go out of bounds.
Oh, and I will also be taking some things from some well known games and movies, first of: characters.
The 222nd Army Division and the B-Company is fictional, Redford, Marlowe, Sweetwater, and Haggard are the characters from Battlefield - Bad Company 2, since they're inside the Bad Company, they'll be the major supporting characters for this series, and yes, all of them (Marlowe excluded) are indeed made for comic relief. Copyright goes to DICE and EA.
I only own my OC, Agung Liu Li Wen.
I will also be referencing a lot to movies, for example, Apocalypse Now and Games, like Battlefield and Call of Duty: Black Ops, but don't fret, most of the storyline will still go purely original. And finally, yes, since this is a mini real-life insert, this is obviously an AU.
So uhm... that's it? I hope you kinda... enjoyed this stupid story of mine.
I'm gonna go and do some FUBAR'ed things now.
EX: FUBAR - Fucked Up Beyond Any Recognition, a popular slang in the military.