The sound of heavy boots crunching along a gravel path with the occasional branch being crunched as the forces continued down the well worn path through the forest. The quiet calm of legionnaires talking to their brothers in arms and leaders ensuring everyone did their jobs kept the would be void of song birds and wildlife in balance with the thunderous sound of the marching. Within fifty feet of them laid a pile of leaves, fallen branches, and other forgotten flora… Plus an American veteran who was terribly lost.

POG: Slang term used by the United States Armed Forces to describe now combat personnel who support the fight with maintenance and supplies, though that rarely stops them from being engaged in combat and winning against the foe.

A month prior….

"You've got to be kidding me… Why would I order a platoons worth of MREs? I've been out for two years… No no, I ain't gonna send them back cause I know your cheap ass wouldn't pay for the shipping."

The man rubbed his face while dealing with an annoying Amazon representative. While the idea of having a nice surplus of food was a calming idea, the fact was he had no good place to store them before he left for his next job on the road, and if he left them out they'd probably be rat fucked before he was half way through the job.

The man sighs before looking at his unpacked clothes and gear. A mix of tower climber gear, military surplus, and various clothes mixed in for seasoning left far too much to have packed away within the next three hours…

Three hours and a couple episodes of a certain Gas station story later…

Six bags sat out on the queen sized bed, two rucksacks one an Alice pack the other a Molle, three surplus duffel bags stuffed full of various spare clothes that would not be coming. Then finally was the oversized rifle bag that held a rifle, a pair handguns, an AR pistol and a shotgun.

Alright, now that the mess is cleaned, time to double check on what I packed into the pair of rucks, ensuring that whichever one I decided to bring for this little excursion would suit the situation properly. With a sigh, I grabbed the pair before pulling their tarps out in the classic layout pattern of the past.

Both rucks contained five sets of 'fatigues' , two sets of multicams, two sets of M81 and one set of tiger stripe, the patterns reflected where he expected to use them. Woodland and tropic variants in the Alice pack for better movement in deep foliage while desert and standard multicam were packed into Molle, though the tigerstripe was in there for evaluation plus the vibe. Along with the fatigues were the necessary underclothes to keep comfy while in them, plenty of socks, boxer briefs, and shirts of normal and tank top variety were packed into dry bags. The reusable dry bags had been a required addition after the first venture through a swamp, though that had been a Louisiana experience that included some good friends and plenary of Opfor. The lessons had stuck quite well with him, dry clothes, extra socks, and overpacking had proved the best way to ensure you were at least comfortable during the suck.

With a deep deep breath he focused back on his layout for the Alice pack.

5 sets of fatigues

2- Multicam tropic

2-God's flannel

1- OG Tigerstripe

Underclothes
7- sets of boxer briefs

7-sets of socks

5- t-shirts

2- tank tops

Dry bags

3 packs of batteries

Garmin

Bivy with insert

Woobie

Dual fire starters/ magnesium rod & electric lighter

Headlamp and flashlight with red lenses

Water purification

3 x Flares

Solar charging panel

With all that checked and packed away again, I need to make a decision on which I would be taking with me down to the glades. For a long as I had been doing this kind of thing, I had used my old medium ruck from CIF, it had been a great bag but it was try for something new, and since I would be trying out tigerstripe on this trip why not kick it with the classics and bring out Alice.

'What would be the best for this trip… the shotgun would provide me with the best utility over all but comes at the price of weight and maintenance time if I run her too much…'

The man slowly takes out the shotgun and shoulders it, checking the Sig MSR and its Juliet magnifier, really helping sell the potential of the platform. It had taken far too long and far too many nights spent on a gunbroker site trying to get a hold of one. The Itillians made one helluva shotgun, and it was Benalii's M4 with an extended tube for a proper look and magazine capacity.

"Wouldn't be a bad system to run, large enough to make anything big, rethink their decisions and ammo is versatile enough for hunting both small and medium game…Though the lack of ammo can definitely be an issue'

'Though thinking about dealing with both people and animals… my usual long gun may be my best bet..'

The Tiger stripped AR-10 with its 2-12 LPVO from some one off brand, the bipod stored in a forward position matched the SureFire flash hider that doubled as a suppressor mount.

'While the three-oh-hate is definitely going to fuck over anything moving, I've only got the four 25 rounders… An overall improvement in comparison to the shotgun'

The overpriced metal can in a canvas sleeve sat off to the side, it had taken far too long to get a hold of the 30 cal RC2 but it had been worth it when the right kind of ammo was used with it.

With a longing sigh to just take everything my eyes drifted over to my normal truck gun, an 11.5 AR pistol with a Surefire Socom muzzle brake, its Holosun red dot and magnifier combo had been working great for the last three years of non-stop use as my go to. Add in the RC3 that had been the fastest Form 4 he had ever gotten.

'I've still got plenty of 5.56 to run this with a dual combat load but do I really wanna rely on this for another hike…'

My thoughts drifted to and from the previous weekends I had spent in the woods just practicing basic skills and ensuring that my gear was up to standards that had been set by those who came before.

…

"Screw it, both y'all are coming, we're doing this breakpoint style."

I said to no one but my guns, before grabbing both of the AR platforms, one would be tied off to the top of my alice ruck while I had carried the other then throw in a pistol on the waist… This was going to be a very heavy weekend experience.

Now… Tisas Raider or a P320… which to choose which to choose…

Around 10 hours later and 50 miles into the floridian swamp lands..

WIth a final click of my key fob the sound of my truck completely locking was the tell that it was time to start this next adventure, the current goal was to make it halfway through the swamp and make camp before full sundown, send a quick message to my family to let them know I had made it then go from there tomorrow.

With a final sigh and adjustment of my boonie hat, cramping it down to keep the sun out my eyes, final checks on all my guns the M17 on my hip was hot, the AR carbine in my hands was just waiting to be racked with the 40 round party mag resting in it, and the AR10 had been adjusted to not catch any foliage on the hike with it in a similar yellow state.

Never hurts to be prepared…

With that I began my ruck into the bright florida morning.

10 hours and 15 miles in the northernmost part of the Everglades

With cautious steps forward I wade through the thick reeds and knee deep water, making sure to stay about 15 feet from the game trails that had already been cut through the swamp, a dull thrumming slowly becoming louder as I went deeper into the marshy mess…

'wait that's a plane…'

Without a second thought I looked up to see a pure white brick nearly smash my face in, unfortunately I had not seen the duffel bag that was following rapidly behind it, so when I looked back up from picking up the brick, the bag ended up hitting me with around $500k worth of some white powder.

And that's where everything went dark with that thrumming now becoming much quieter…

As the lights of reality slowly came back to me with a painful new headache plus some jaw pain for the hell of it, I was finally able to recover from the hit that had taken me off my feet and clocked me better than any bar fight I had ever been in.

Though there was definitely something wrong still, the bag that had hit me was gone along with the swamp. I was currently laying on the edge of a small river, my ruck was still on my back and was keeping me in a mostly upright sitting position, with some effort I slowly began to stand up and look around. This definitely was not the Everglades, Florida, or even the U.S. With all that realized, one could say that the ball finally dropped mentally…

"FUCKING SHIT TIT SON OF A GOD DAMN BITCH WHO TAKES IT UP THE ASS" I yelled into the air letting out all of my initial fear and anger out in the single long string of curses directed at whoever had thrown that damn duffel bag.

After regaining my nerves the realization of the situation began to really set in.

'I'm currently alone, well armed, limited to my ruck and chest rig for supplies currently, and have no fucking idea where in the hell I am…'

With a few deep breaths and a quick once over for immediate injuries that I may have missed in the initial shock of not being where I was prior to being knocked out.

'I need to find three things quickly. Those being concealment, my bearings, and any signs of civilization. First two should be rather quick, from where I'm standing there is some decent foliage down the bank about 100 meters. From there I can take inventory and check my compass to see which way is north, after that I can either set up a small camp or make some sort of marker as to where I woke up for future reference… Alright, decent plan, now just gotta execute… and go!'

And with that I sprung into action, swiftly moving down the rocky bank with my pistol out and at the low ready, internally praying that I was not about to walk into some sort of ambush.

Once in the brush a solid 50 feet into it, I was able to start taking inventory of my gear and inspecting my gear. My phone was not bricked which was a blessing, however it was failing to pick up any kind of signal, battery was still full along with the solar charging pack that I kept on the outside of ole Alice. Both of my red dots were still on, all the flashlights turned on without issue, and the pvs-15 I had secured in a water proof box was in better shape than I expected. Food… enough for another 5 days if I stretch it out properly, water is good for now, I should be able to refill off the river and sanitize it. Lets get most of this shoved back in along with the plastic covered brick… '

'Oh fuck this proably a kilo of coke, neat.'

The sound of organized marching immediately caught my ears, which was strange since I was seemingly in the middle of nowhere though that only raised further concerns, marching with that level of sync meant military. If it is military, then someone in a kit with this kind of gear will probably be immediately shot.

'Fuck fuck fuck… Alright, calm down and think, if they see you they shoot on sight or try to take your prisoner, at best you are taken to the closest American embassy… Death on one hand and a hopefully peaceful return on the other… or I could follow them to their camp or base and try to go from there based on whatever language they speak their equipment… Then try to make my way to the nearest embassy or port that way…'

As my thoughts raced, a woman's scream tore my mind from the deepening hole it was attempting to dig. Now shit had just taken a drastic turn, the ever rumbling sound of lock step marching was continuing, but there was a smaller amount than before.

'Interesting, time to make a bad situation even worse.'

I grabbed my small carbine and quickly began creeping towards the edge of the woodline to begin taking a peak and observing the nearby forces. Hoping that it was some sort of NATO ally or at least some sort of uniform that I could use to easily identify what region of the world I was in.

'What the fuck….'

I let my AR dip into its sling so I could rub my sweat dried eyes before looking back out, it looked like I was observing a strange mix of a Roman Legion and medieval knights, which honestly made little sense since seeing as the fighting doctrine for both usually did not overlap.

The internal debate aside, I was able to see about 5 of the wanna be Romans running after what looked to be a mother and child, in modern looking clothes, they were making a break towards the river. Unfortunately, the Legionaries were gaining swiftly. Dropping to a crouched position, I lined up the small red dot on the side of the furthest forward man, he was reaching out trying to grab the child and wasn't focused on his footing going over the rocky bank, a wiry smile grew on my face as I click the safety of the carbine and begin the slow squeeze of the trigger. An old prayer that I had heard from an infantry chaplain came to mind as the first shot against another person left the barrel.

"Lord make me fast and accurate, may my aim be true and heart in the right, but should today be my last O' Lord then let me leave this world in an empty pile of brass, so that when I report to Saint Peter he can find an empty space just for me, in your Son's blessed and Holy name… AMEN!"

The hammer drops on to the back of the firing pin, launching it forward into the back of the primer cap, igniting it and launching the 62 grain clump of steel and copper down the 11.5 inch barrel and the additional 6 inches of suppressor, throwing it out at speeds thought impossible by the folks of this world as it spun right into the Legionnaire's exposed armpit, tearing muscle and bone with a fresh wave of hatred. As the steel cored round began to break down and send the fragmentation of itself and the bones it shattered into the various organs, the final remains of the bullet tore through the heart, ending the man's life.

His body laid out in a dead flop, tripping his allies as they were not prepared for the sudden death, adjusting my aim to the last man of the group, aiming for just below the edge of his helmet and firing twice, throwing two more rounds down range. The first one tearing through his bicep with the other catching him in the throat. By now they had noticed that this wasn't the typical trip up but rather, what you can consider an impromptu ambush.

'Good'

An insane grin began to grow as they began looking around for the enemy rather than focusing in on the pair of runaways, I got up and adjusted my aim towards the first of the legionnaires to recover and fired another pair of rounds as I began to step out of the brush, attempting to garner more focus towards myself so the clear civilians could get further away. This was about the time that the leaders of the 'company' sized element took notice of me and began screaming orders, their hatred for me killing three of their men quickly becoming evident as I transitioned onto them instead of the last two of the group.

'Puffy and shiny officers make for the best targets'

With a huff, I began to empty the magazine into the crowd of fake romans ensuring to evenly spread my last 36 rounds amongst the clusterfuck of an unprepared force. Definitely killing a few and wounding a reasonable amount of men as they attempted to stabilize their force. With swift hands, I yanked my dump pouch open and shoved the empty magazine in before ripping a fresh one from the chest rig I had on. Once seated I smacked the bolt release, loading a fresh round into the chamber.

"Non transiet!"

I shouted in the little latin that I knew, doing my best to be louder than the carbine in my hands as I now focused on suppressing the growing wall of shields, it seemed like my rounds were penetrating but I didn't have time to find out. For now my focus was shifting to grabbing my shit and breaking contact so I could attempt to recover the civilians. While the legion didn't seem to be advancing, I looked back towards the last pair of the original men I had shot, they were finally up and moving towards me. A simple drop of the AR into its sling and an easy rotation back towards them, I drew my handgun and placed the front tritium onto the first man's chest plate and fired 3 times before aiming for his last teammate and firing another 4 times to ensure they were both down.

With that done, I holstered the handgun and shot a bird at the recovering legionnaires as I began to break back into the bush. Judging by the weight of the current mag, I had about half of it left, it was quickly dropped into the dump pouch with a fresh one inserted in. I focused on getting back to my ruck and tossing that on so I could get on the trail of the pair of runaways and meet up with them, last I had seen of them they were about knee deep into the water.

After a quick recovery of my gear and breaking out of the woodline on the side next to the river, I gave a slow analyzing glance along both the river and the bank opposite of me, turns out there was a bend going to running to the south if my sense of direction was accurate, and there on the southern side of the far bank was a small girl trying her damnedest to climb out the river with an older woman trying to help her.

'Alright, so far they're clear and mostly safe, just need to make contact and coordinate…'

As I turned to look back up stream, an arrow flew past my face just close enough for its head to cut open the tip of my nose.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

I shouted falling onto my back trying to see where the arrow had come from, the archer guilty of such an action was already preparing another arrow, as I rolled onto my stomach and took aim myself. It was a tense moment but my trigger and finger were just a bit lighter and faster than his hold on the drawstring. His darker armor made for a much easier target to find the red dot when compared to my various shades of green and brown. With the latest threat down, I turned back towards the pair of civilians who had managed to get onto the far bank.

It looked like they had seen a fair bit but were mostly and correctly focused on getting out of dodge city. I turned to face upstream once more and began looking for more targets, with none in my line of sight, it was clearly time I followed the lead of the little family and got myself the fuck out of dodge.
I slowly got up onto my knees for a moment to get a hold of my breathing, it was clear my day was far from over so the shock and terror that had been trying to crawl in and take control of my actions would have to wait a while longer. While I may not know who those folks are, they looked as terrified as anyone I had seen in a bad situation. So, it was time to nut the fuck up and get the job done. With that I got up and began my rush across the river, with constant glimpses over my shoulder keeping an eye out for any tails that would need to be dispatched.

'Still clear for now, but I definitely need to get across this river.'