I had no idea locusts would do something like this. My squad and I were captured fighting a large swarm of locust drones. My name is Sergeant Jacks and I have no idea where I am.
My crew and I were dropped in a small base a few days ago in the middle of a huge wasteland. The creatures told us that we'd be dead within days, because the Wretches were coming. They gave us our guns back, saying it wouldn't help us anyways.
This small base has four watchtowers, each in one of the bases' corners. The base has catwalks around the base so that soldiers can look over the walls without exposing their bodies too much. The inner of the base is at ground height. Ramps lead up to the catwalks where the troikas were placed, one for each wall. More useless weapons according to the Locusts.
There are thirty-one soldiers in this base. There are three snipers in every tower, one man on every troika, and the remaining soldiers switch off patrolling and scouting nearby areas.
The locusts gave us plenty of food and water, saying that if we died before the Wretches got to us the locusts would have no entertainment.
Yesterday one of the scouts recorded swarms of Wretches running in our direction, being guided by Drones riding Reavers. Thousands of Wretches will reach our small base in a matter of days.
The base fortifications started today. A young private approached me earlier with a genius idea. He told me that we had way more grenades than we would need. He proposed that we fill barrels with grenades, place them at a distance from the base, and then set all the grenades off when the Wretches get near them.
A group of soldiers placed seven barrels about 400 yards from the base's walls. They filled the barrels with as many grenades as would fit.
"Hey, Fin!" I shout at one of the sniper towers. A man wearing a cowboy hat pokes his head over the edge.
"What up?" Fin shouts back.
"Can you hit one of those grenades?"
"An idiot could hit ONE grenade,"
"Alright I want you to shoot the four in your range,"
"YEEHAW! Thanks Grif!"
"That's sir until we get outta here,"
"Yes sir, Mr. Griffin Jacks, sir,"
"Fin! I'm serious,"
"Alright!" Fin shouts as he disappears from sight.
"Hick," I mutter as I walk away.
"I'm so sick of digging,"
"Private! It's this or die, which would you prefer?"
"This, sir!"
"Damn right,"
"Why we doing this again, sir?"
"This trench is gonna be six feet deep, with spikes at the bottom,"
"All the way around the our base?"
"Yep,"
"Damn,"
"Yep, but it'll be worth it to watch those bastards fall on these," The soldier says picking up one of the spikes, which was just a three foot sharpened steel rod.
"Where did you get all the pipe from?"
"There were six original towers, remember?"
"Right…"
"It's gonna be six feet wide,"
"What? How are we supposed to finish it in time?"
"Work faster,"
"Yes sir,"