January 2142-February 2142
Disclaimer: Same as before. This is the beat and words to Lili Marlene: cut and paste this link: ()
~ ~ ~ ~
Stan Eaker walked back into the barracks, stripping off his wet fatigues and throwing them beside his bunk. He would wash them in the morning. After he'd cleaned his weapon he decided to get some sleep. Ivy had written him again, he could tell by the envelope on his cot. He grinned faintly, crackling a layer of mud and camouflage face paint. He walked into the nearby washroom and silently thanked God for the Army Corps of Engineers as he washed it all away.
Sitting on his cot he put the shotgun he had cleaned and carried for the patrol on his knees. A soldier going out on patrol as lead scout asked him for it and traded his pulse rifle for it. Stan put the lethal tool of war close at hand as the trooper handed him his rifle magazines. He had only fifteen of the one hundred and fifty shells he had carried into the field to give the soldier, however.
"Thanks Stan, I'll find more ammo somewhere." The soldier replied. He was a boy of barely nineteen.
"You're welcome." Stan replied, with a tired grin. He opened the envelope from Ivy and started to read.
14 January 2142,
Dear Stan,
Sorry this one's a little late, I've been busy with cases and paperwork lately. I'm sorry you had to go through everything that you did in your childhood. I had no idea that's why you were so painfully shy. No one should have to go through that kind of treatment.
Well, things at ACME are stepping up. The ACME/OSS Reservation act came into effect and that means that the Office of Strategic Services is training all eligible detectives to be auxiliary field operatives. The training is no problem, the attitudes of some of those guys that train us though really gets on my nerves, thinking that we're just privileged whiz kids. On top of that we had another Biohazard drill where all civilians have to take cover in the shelters, fortified bunkers that are built around the city at strategic points defended by soldiers and policemen designed to shield civilians. It's stifling and kinda scary in there, crowded full of people, I feel like an animal penned up for slaughter whenever we have shelter drills.
Sincerely,
Ivy
~ ~ ~ ~
Ivy Darren thought that the day was never going to end. For one, there was a Biohazard drill that everyone thought was the real thing. An old man fainted in terror inside the shelter and had to be revived. Thankfully she knew a thing or two about field medicine and was able to help the paramedics revive the poor old geezer.
She was about to walk out of her office for the day when she noticed an envelope with Stan's handwriting on it. She picked it up, stuffed it in her jacket pocket and headed home. She boiled water on the stove, intending to make some tea as she sat at the kitchen table and opened the envelope.
15 January 2142
Dear Ivy,
Don't mind about the letter. I was on patrol when it arrived and when I got back at around 0200 (2 o'clock in the morning, military time) I found it there and stayed up another few minutes to read it. It feels great to have someone to write.
You don't need to feel sorry for me about my childhood. I made it through just fine, but thanks for caring. I really appreciated it. It's been a long time since anyone's even thought to do anything like that for me.
I know, shelters are scary. I remember once when we helped lead troops from the 11th Brazilian Light Infantry towards a shelter in a small town on the Amazon. We managed to drive off the attackers, only to find out they had taken over half the shelter with the survivors out of ammunition and cooped up in a few small rooms. Of the four hundred civilians this was bunker was designed to shelter, we rescued only one hundred and fifty. The others were either dead or infected.
Our patrol got trailed when we were out. It turns out that a Gollum tracking unit had been following us through the jungle a day after we inserted. We walked past a hiding spot then doubled back three days later. We lay in wait and saw six Gollums that had been following us. We sprang and ambush and killed them all, but then we wound up being attacked by what had to be a reinforced platoon of enemy troops.
We found ourselves in a running gunfight through the jungle as the sun began to set and night began to set in. We then split up so that the enemy would have a tougher time chasing us. It was the scariest night of my entire life, I remember bumping into zombies in the bush and barely having enough time to shoot them and run away. By the time I reached the rally point I had only fifteen rounds left. We got pulled out and went back to base where we reported the presence of at least an enemy advance element in our sector. I'm glad to be here alive and in one piece.
Cheers,
Stan
~ ~ ~ ~
"Hey Ive, another letter from Stan." Zack replied, "And you're the one who said that this Operation Pen Pal thing was a waste of time?"
"Zack, hand it over." Ivy replied.
Zack handed the letter to Ivy and right when it was in her reach he yanked it away. Ivy chased Zack a short distance then put him in a headlock, a playful one, but a headlock nonetheless, "Ow. Ow. OK Ive, here, sheesh."
"Oh c'mon, I didn't hold you that tight." Ivy replied.
"My neck might disagree." Zack replied as he walked to the living room to watch TV.
19 January 2142
Dear Stan,
My God, that sounds awful. I remember being friends with you at the Farm, but afterward you seemed to drift away. What happened to you there?
Anyway, expect a care package soon. My mom's a good baker and don't be shy about asking for seconds, she just loves to try and fatten us up. "Ivy, you've gotta get those hips wider for when you give me my grandkids."
Jeez, parents are weird. It's like they're expecting me to get married or something right away. I know that's not the case, but its starting to annoy me. Anyway, I've gotta run, I've got an Aikido competition in about a half hour.
Good Cheer,
Ivy
Ivy walked out to her car thinking had it not been for this war she might never have actually known the shy nice guy who worked down the hall named Stanley Eaker.
~ ~ ~ ~
Stan Eaker eagerly grabbed the letter from the home front that his sergeant had been presenting. Sergeant Aaron Wilkes was a Jewish man, a student rabbi, from Chicago, Illinois.
"What's with all the mail you've been getting of late." Wilkes said, with a knowing grin, "From a lady no doubt, a new girlfriend?"
"No sarge, a new friend, I used to work with her back when I was at ACME. We didn't really become friends until we started writing last month." Eaker replied.
"Mazeltov my friend, mazeltov." Wilkes replied, tapping him on the shoulder.
Eaker had just gotten off sentry watch at midday and before he was to take his noon siesta after lunch he sat on his cot, placing his rifle at arm's length and removed his belt kit which he laid on top of his reclining form. He opened Ivy's letter and read it and decided to write a quick reply.
22 January 2142
Dear Ivy,
I'm guessing the fact we worked in different departments and didn't see as much of each other as we did back at the Farm. That's my thought on the matter.
Yet another day gone by; and we're going out on patrol tomorrow. The same six guys, patrolling out in the South American brush to find the enemy, plus a K-9. Since I was a K-9 specialist in the Territorial Army I've been assigned a K-9 partner, a German shepherd named Quasimodo if I'm not mistaken. Victor Hugo never expected his work would extend to military dogs, eh?
We have some fairly eccentric characters in the unit. I know one who's a former member of the Colonial Legion, Arnot Biegard. Every time an officer gives him an order he replies with a brusque, "Oui mon capitaine!" and whenever the officer chastises him and tells him to speak properly he always replies the same, "Oui mon capitaine!" He's a weird fellow, usually he's fairly solitary by nature. He's also one hell of a shot, he'll sneak outside the wire just to go 'hunt to get the old juices flowing' and come back for roll call carrying personal effects of whatever creature he just killed. What kind of guy serves five years garrisoning the most miserable and distant outposts of Terran space, then enlists in the Army and runs its toughest course, Selection, and then goes to the bloodiest theater of war, voluntarily. None other than Arnot Biegard.
Cheers,
Stan
~ ~ ~ ~
Ivy was about to leave work to go to the gym when Tatiana caught up with her and handed her an envelope. Stan had written her again.
"Funny, you didn't used to like this idea." Tatiana replied, "So how is this Stan Eaker fellow?"
"He's a nice guy, he actually used to work with me at the Farm and he used to work down the hall with intelligence." Ivy replied, "He was the nice guy with a bit of a clumsy streak."
"I remember him somewhat." Tatiana replied, "He used to write the morning reports for the intelligence department. Real quiet, shy, timid kid. Rumor had it he was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown....remember a couple years ago when he wasn't at ACME for three months."
"Tatiana, that's just a rumor." Ivy replied.
"Believe what you want, but people said he was a bit crazy." Tatiana replied.
28 January 2142
Dear Stan,
So, might I ask why you were missing for three months a couple years back? I understand it's none of my business, but I'm just curious. Friends tell each other these things if they want to. Again tell me if you want.
This Arnot Biegard fellow sounds pretty bizarre. I watched a documentary on the Colonial Legion. Based on the old French Foreign Legion in all but name, it seems a pretty grim and dismal life. I know a couple ex-military fellows on the counterterrorist team which I'm hoping to join next year who could give this ex-legionnaire a run for his money. He wouldn't be saying "Oui mon capitaine" for long around them if they didn't want him to.
One of them is Maya Sipcowitz, she's from Tel Aviv, Israel. She may be twenty-two years old but she's really smart and tough as anything. She is probably one of the only sparring partners I've had that actually can intimidate me. She could scare your legionnaire easily.
There's an old song that's had some new life breathed into it. Lili Marlene it's called. It was an old German marching song from World War II that was so popular with the British Army that they had a version in English written. It's a soldier's song about a soldier missing his sweetheart. Annette Maria Chavez really makes this song come to life again, she sings it with so much passion. When I heard it on the radio this morning I thought about you. Is there a special lady that you think about under the mosquito nets?
Sincerely,
Ivy
~ ~ ~ ~
Stan Eaker sat down for a while underneath the mosquito net over his cot. He had just been working out on a crude set of weights out behind the barracks. It consisted of a steel bar with a concrete filled serving tin of beans on either end. There was also a punching bag hanging from a short, gnarly tree behind the barracks and he had also run a perimeter around the camp. He had washed off earlier and now sat upon his cot reading Ivy's latest letter and smiled.
Disclaimer: Same as before. This is the beat and words to Lili Marlene: cut and paste this link: ()
~ ~ ~ ~
Stan Eaker walked back into the barracks, stripping off his wet fatigues and throwing them beside his bunk. He would wash them in the morning. After he'd cleaned his weapon he decided to get some sleep. Ivy had written him again, he could tell by the envelope on his cot. He grinned faintly, crackling a layer of mud and camouflage face paint. He walked into the nearby washroom and silently thanked God for the Army Corps of Engineers as he washed it all away.
Sitting on his cot he put the shotgun he had cleaned and carried for the patrol on his knees. A soldier going out on patrol as lead scout asked him for it and traded his pulse rifle for it. Stan put the lethal tool of war close at hand as the trooper handed him his rifle magazines. He had only fifteen of the one hundred and fifty shells he had carried into the field to give the soldier, however.
"Thanks Stan, I'll find more ammo somewhere." The soldier replied. He was a boy of barely nineteen.
"You're welcome." Stan replied, with a tired grin. He opened the envelope from Ivy and started to read.
14 January 2142,
Dear Stan,
Sorry this one's a little late, I've been busy with cases and paperwork lately. I'm sorry you had to go through everything that you did in your childhood. I had no idea that's why you were so painfully shy. No one should have to go through that kind of treatment.
Well, things at ACME are stepping up. The ACME/OSS Reservation act came into effect and that means that the Office of Strategic Services is training all eligible detectives to be auxiliary field operatives. The training is no problem, the attitudes of some of those guys that train us though really gets on my nerves, thinking that we're just privileged whiz kids. On top of that we had another Biohazard drill where all civilians have to take cover in the shelters, fortified bunkers that are built around the city at strategic points defended by soldiers and policemen designed to shield civilians. It's stifling and kinda scary in there, crowded full of people, I feel like an animal penned up for slaughter whenever we have shelter drills.
Sincerely,
Ivy
~ ~ ~ ~
Ivy Darren thought that the day was never going to end. For one, there was a Biohazard drill that everyone thought was the real thing. An old man fainted in terror inside the shelter and had to be revived. Thankfully she knew a thing or two about field medicine and was able to help the paramedics revive the poor old geezer.
She was about to walk out of her office for the day when she noticed an envelope with Stan's handwriting on it. She picked it up, stuffed it in her jacket pocket and headed home. She boiled water on the stove, intending to make some tea as she sat at the kitchen table and opened the envelope.
15 January 2142
Dear Ivy,
Don't mind about the letter. I was on patrol when it arrived and when I got back at around 0200 (2 o'clock in the morning, military time) I found it there and stayed up another few minutes to read it. It feels great to have someone to write.
You don't need to feel sorry for me about my childhood. I made it through just fine, but thanks for caring. I really appreciated it. It's been a long time since anyone's even thought to do anything like that for me.
I know, shelters are scary. I remember once when we helped lead troops from the 11th Brazilian Light Infantry towards a shelter in a small town on the Amazon. We managed to drive off the attackers, only to find out they had taken over half the shelter with the survivors out of ammunition and cooped up in a few small rooms. Of the four hundred civilians this was bunker was designed to shelter, we rescued only one hundred and fifty. The others were either dead or infected.
Our patrol got trailed when we were out. It turns out that a Gollum tracking unit had been following us through the jungle a day after we inserted. We walked past a hiding spot then doubled back three days later. We lay in wait and saw six Gollums that had been following us. We sprang and ambush and killed them all, but then we wound up being attacked by what had to be a reinforced platoon of enemy troops.
We found ourselves in a running gunfight through the jungle as the sun began to set and night began to set in. We then split up so that the enemy would have a tougher time chasing us. It was the scariest night of my entire life, I remember bumping into zombies in the bush and barely having enough time to shoot them and run away. By the time I reached the rally point I had only fifteen rounds left. We got pulled out and went back to base where we reported the presence of at least an enemy advance element in our sector. I'm glad to be here alive and in one piece.
Cheers,
Stan
~ ~ ~ ~
"Hey Ive, another letter from Stan." Zack replied, "And you're the one who said that this Operation Pen Pal thing was a waste of time?"
"Zack, hand it over." Ivy replied.
Zack handed the letter to Ivy and right when it was in her reach he yanked it away. Ivy chased Zack a short distance then put him in a headlock, a playful one, but a headlock nonetheless, "Ow. Ow. OK Ive, here, sheesh."
"Oh c'mon, I didn't hold you that tight." Ivy replied.
"My neck might disagree." Zack replied as he walked to the living room to watch TV.
19 January 2142
Dear Stan,
My God, that sounds awful. I remember being friends with you at the Farm, but afterward you seemed to drift away. What happened to you there?
Anyway, expect a care package soon. My mom's a good baker and don't be shy about asking for seconds, she just loves to try and fatten us up. "Ivy, you've gotta get those hips wider for when you give me my grandkids."
Jeez, parents are weird. It's like they're expecting me to get married or something right away. I know that's not the case, but its starting to annoy me. Anyway, I've gotta run, I've got an Aikido competition in about a half hour.
Good Cheer,
Ivy
Ivy walked out to her car thinking had it not been for this war she might never have actually known the shy nice guy who worked down the hall named Stanley Eaker.
~ ~ ~ ~
Stan Eaker eagerly grabbed the letter from the home front that his sergeant had been presenting. Sergeant Aaron Wilkes was a Jewish man, a student rabbi, from Chicago, Illinois.
"What's with all the mail you've been getting of late." Wilkes said, with a knowing grin, "From a lady no doubt, a new girlfriend?"
"No sarge, a new friend, I used to work with her back when I was at ACME. We didn't really become friends until we started writing last month." Eaker replied.
"Mazeltov my friend, mazeltov." Wilkes replied, tapping him on the shoulder.
Eaker had just gotten off sentry watch at midday and before he was to take his noon siesta after lunch he sat on his cot, placing his rifle at arm's length and removed his belt kit which he laid on top of his reclining form. He opened Ivy's letter and read it and decided to write a quick reply.
22 January 2142
Dear Ivy,
I'm guessing the fact we worked in different departments and didn't see as much of each other as we did back at the Farm. That's my thought on the matter.
Yet another day gone by; and we're going out on patrol tomorrow. The same six guys, patrolling out in the South American brush to find the enemy, plus a K-9. Since I was a K-9 specialist in the Territorial Army I've been assigned a K-9 partner, a German shepherd named Quasimodo if I'm not mistaken. Victor Hugo never expected his work would extend to military dogs, eh?
We have some fairly eccentric characters in the unit. I know one who's a former member of the Colonial Legion, Arnot Biegard. Every time an officer gives him an order he replies with a brusque, "Oui mon capitaine!" and whenever the officer chastises him and tells him to speak properly he always replies the same, "Oui mon capitaine!" He's a weird fellow, usually he's fairly solitary by nature. He's also one hell of a shot, he'll sneak outside the wire just to go 'hunt to get the old juices flowing' and come back for roll call carrying personal effects of whatever creature he just killed. What kind of guy serves five years garrisoning the most miserable and distant outposts of Terran space, then enlists in the Army and runs its toughest course, Selection, and then goes to the bloodiest theater of war, voluntarily. None other than Arnot Biegard.
Cheers,
Stan
~ ~ ~ ~
Ivy was about to leave work to go to the gym when Tatiana caught up with her and handed her an envelope. Stan had written her again.
"Funny, you didn't used to like this idea." Tatiana replied, "So how is this Stan Eaker fellow?"
"He's a nice guy, he actually used to work with me at the Farm and he used to work down the hall with intelligence." Ivy replied, "He was the nice guy with a bit of a clumsy streak."
"I remember him somewhat." Tatiana replied, "He used to write the morning reports for the intelligence department. Real quiet, shy, timid kid. Rumor had it he was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown....remember a couple years ago when he wasn't at ACME for three months."
"Tatiana, that's just a rumor." Ivy replied.
"Believe what you want, but people said he was a bit crazy." Tatiana replied.
28 January 2142
Dear Stan,
So, might I ask why you were missing for three months a couple years back? I understand it's none of my business, but I'm just curious. Friends tell each other these things if they want to. Again tell me if you want.
This Arnot Biegard fellow sounds pretty bizarre. I watched a documentary on the Colonial Legion. Based on the old French Foreign Legion in all but name, it seems a pretty grim and dismal life. I know a couple ex-military fellows on the counterterrorist team which I'm hoping to join next year who could give this ex-legionnaire a run for his money. He wouldn't be saying "Oui mon capitaine" for long around them if they didn't want him to.
One of them is Maya Sipcowitz, she's from Tel Aviv, Israel. She may be twenty-two years old but she's really smart and tough as anything. She is probably one of the only sparring partners I've had that actually can intimidate me. She could scare your legionnaire easily.
There's an old song that's had some new life breathed into it. Lili Marlene it's called. It was an old German marching song from World War II that was so popular with the British Army that they had a version in English written. It's a soldier's song about a soldier missing his sweetheart. Annette Maria Chavez really makes this song come to life again, she sings it with so much passion. When I heard it on the radio this morning I thought about you. Is there a special lady that you think about under the mosquito nets?
Sincerely,
Ivy
~ ~ ~ ~
Stan Eaker sat down for a while underneath the mosquito net over his cot. He had just been working out on a crude set of weights out behind the barracks. It consisted of a steel bar with a concrete filled serving tin of beans on either end. There was also a punching bag hanging from a short, gnarly tree behind the barracks and he had also run a perimeter around the camp. He had washed off earlier and now sat upon his cot reading Ivy's latest letter and smiled.