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Early Life and Recruitment Edit

10 years Post Eruption......

I lived in Danbury, Connecticut. I say "lived" because I haven't been home, or heard from my family in some time now. I can remember back to the first days after the eruption. When everything happened, we obviously mourned, yet we were all secretly relieved. We still got ash, but by the gods, we didn't get the amounts that we saw on CNN or Fox, before we lost TV. Everything hit close to home about a month after. The state government collapsed, and Governor Malloy was dragged into the streets for not doing more. Then the refugees walked in. We were one of the first towns to get them, what with us being right on what remained of I-84. I can remember the unwashed masses. We helped out as much as we could, but.... it just wasn't enough. While most moved on, some stayed. My parents took in a girl that had lived in Montana at the time. Her name was Helen.

Once I turned 18, we both moved to a different part of town, and got married. It made sense at the time. I mean, we had been close when she first moved in, about 3 years before hand, and it just evolved from there. I eventually enlisted in the Federation's army since we had a kid on the way. Boot camp was fairly easy, marksmanship especially, due to my dad making sure I came along on his trips to the firing ranges. Because of my high marks during boot, I was recommended for 1st Recon. After graduation we spent time up in New Hampshire fucking up the rebels. Then, Boston figured out where their arms were coming from, we got sent in NY state. I hated fighting the insurgents. It always fucking sucked.

Battle of Albany Edit

Albany sucked equally, but at least it was against an equally competant force. We spent most of our time in the AO trying to disrupt the enemy at their critical areas, be it command posts, ammo depots, barracks, or even field hospitals. Was damned cold though. Though that was because of the ash, making November even worse than it could have been before the eruption. Cloudy too, but I can remember seeing the fire coming down from the Corning Tower. Mostly sniper fire, though me and a few guys did spot something that we tought was bigger. Not sure about that, though the RNY had guys that had been stationed at Fort Drum prior to the cataclysm, according to our intel.

 We ended up crossing over the Livingston Avenue rail bridge at around 5:30 in the morning while the PBI (sorry, OTHER PBI) were pulling off the feint at the Dunn Memorial Bridge. Due to the RNY's forces massing there to counter the false punch, we met little resistance up river. We proceeded west, toward Wilson street when we spotted a rag tag militia group. I wish we could've avoided contact, and the idea alone of doing that keeps me awake on quiet nights back home. Half of them had to be about 17. Green, not acclamated to the strains of combat. And starving by the look of them. The one I remember most was one of the 17 year olds, wearing a three-sizes-too-small set of ACU's in UCP (whoda thunk that that shit would be effective one day?), and carrying a beat to shit VEPR. He was the one who spotted us. He started shouting to the rest of the group. "The feddies are here!"

Jameson was the one who reacted first. He was the designated marksman for our team. He raised his rifle, a Mk 14 if I recall correctly, and got the kid in the head. I raised my M16A2 and fired. Everything after that is a blur. I remember our 8 man team doing remarkably well. Superior firepower, and we only lost one man, our grenadier, Dardin. Compared to the 15 we killed, I'll take one KIA. As I was the generic rifleman of the team, I was ordered to take his satchel of grenades of his body. 2 frags and 3 smokes.

 At this point, I want to go on a favorite rant of mine. Who the fuck issues smoke grenades to their soldiers anymore? Is the ashen sky not cloudy enough? I understand that there are possible indoor applications for these. For example, when a group of New Yorker idiots are trying to hole up in a small house, you toss it in and smoke 'em out. But when we're moving street to street? And trying to avoid contact? That question drove me straight to the quarter master when I got back to base. After that, we spent the better part of a half hour moving less than a mile, taking care to avoid patrols. We did occassionaly spot some actual military. Like, guys that had been with the 10th, but it was mostly the militiamen. By the time we got to the first location, the ammo depot at the Capital building, the real attack was beginning. Attracting most of their forces to the riverbank. The perfect time to attack.

There were of course, men left to guard the depot, but they could be considered a skeleton crew. About 5 men, only one of which could be considered a threat. And that was the gentlemen carrying an M4, and wearing SAPI plate (POG Fuck). There was one other thing that caught our attention, and that was the deuce and a half that had to have been driven there. Corporal Rogers, our Gunner, hence his having the M249, tried to convince our team lead, Lieutenant Mills that we absolutely needed the truck. Rogers, to his credit, shut the fuck up when the LT explained that a running engine would draw attention. Specifically, enemy attention. He ordered our demo man. Sergeant Abrams to do what he does best. When the RNY guard wasn't looking, Abrams advanced, and neutralized him. He set a block home-made plastic explosive (don't try it at home kids) in the wheel well of the truck, an, before coming back, made sure to grab the dead guard's plate carrier and M4 (lucky bastard). After we were reunited, we proceeded Northwest down Elk Street, and hunkered down behind the All Saints Cathedral.

 The order to detonate was given, and Abrams obliged. The explosion was spetacular. The majesty of detonating an unaware enemy's ammo dump is pure joy. We could feel the explosion even past the Department of Education building. We congratulated ourselves, and laughed about how the enemy command must be shitting themselves in anger, looking down from the 32nd floor of the Alfred E Smith building. We composed ourselves, and waited for the shouting soldiers to run site of the explosion. And with that, we felt we had to skedaddle to our next target, a mortar site somewhere on Dove street.

Being mindful of our proximity to the enemy HQ, we moved down Elk, to the corner of Dove Street. We advanced a block, before we started cutting through uninhanited buildings. Luckily, the RNY had evacuated as many people as they could out of the city before the invasion.

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