Secret Military Training Base, Just off the M1

12:33 Zulu time (Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean), 2nd September 1944

"Hurry the hell up, Topgun." Ryan's gruff voice shouted at Richard Topgun, the team's sniper and pilot. His Black-Sage Scout Armor wasn't built for flying but... eff gives.

"Ok, the fuselage is in perfect condition but if the engines fail then the plane will most likely not glide and kill us all."

"Very relieving, Top." Said Andrew Dunn, Sigma's Rifleman and Medic, his White-Cobalt Recon Armor wasn't built for medics, but was any? Beside him sat Jeff Clarke, the team's kiss-ass Gunner.

"Well then, start it up." Ryan ordered Topgun as he climbed into the C-47 "Where's the start button? Is it the red button saying 'START'? Oh, it is." The C-47's engines started and the team got in.

"Oh, ssshhhhhiiiiiiiitttttt!" Dunn shouted as the C-47 sank in the water just 20 metres away from the runway. But it wasn't very suprising since Topgun was flying. "Fuck you with every cell of my body, Topgun."

2 days later, same base

"All right, Team... after our Training session, I have decided that we-" Topgun interupted "Give us all Ponies?" "-Ugh, for fuck's sake, no! We retry basic training." The squad fell silent while Dunn broke the silence "Kack. I'll go get the helmets."

Dunn and Topgun stood in front of the assault course and started at the wall "Big, scary wall, my arse."

They climbed up the rope on the wall and jumped off it, ignoring how tall the wall was. "Jesus, that hurt."

They crawled under the barbed wire and went on to the Grenade Course.

They countinously threw grenades at a mock-up of a Nazi Bunker and Tank. Dunn then noticed Topgun's grenade hit the sandbags in front of them and cried out "Oh kack, Run!"

Ryan observed them from a guard tower as the grenade exploded, "Oh. My. God. These. Are. A. Bunch. Of. Fucking. Retards." As he repeatedly smacked his head into a wooden pole.

He then walked over to see Topgun shooting at the Firing Range, except instead of shooting the cardboard target he shot the Royal Air Force emblem of a Spitfire.

"What the fuck are you doing, Top?" Ryan asked Topgun's idiotic mind... if he had one anyway "Target practice, Sir!" answered Topgun, completely ignoring the exploding Spitfire "Ugh, what the fuck, just carry on."

Later, Ryan told the team to regroup "Alright, Sigma, I decided that... wait, where's Dunn?" "I don't fucking know... sir." Jeff answered.

"This is why wear helmets." Dunn said, as a grenade exploded next to him, sending him flying "My turn!" said Topgun as he ran to the stack of grenades "Topgun! Stop... ugh, what the heck, we're all fucked anyhow."

C-47 above Holland

15:47 Zulu time, 4th September 1944

"We are currently nearing our destination, remember, if your son is vomiting then make him throw up OUTSIDE the plane, thank you for flying with Ryanair."