Post by flippmoke on Nov 12, 2009 17:23:35 GMT -5
UC 0079.09.15
It wasn't uncommon for the men of Azeros to see a group of fighters return with one or two Tin Cods not returning. The missing man formation wasn't something that was reacted at airshows for them it was a fact of life. Yet none of them were prepared for that day. Orders had been issued that morning that the 42nd Brigade was returning and they were in need of repairs. Technical Chief Mathews knew that this would likely mean and prepared all of his men, giving them a speech that morning that they all needed to prepare to work overtime to get them back into action as quickly as possible. A whole company of men were waiting near the tarmac that morning for the Medeas to start landing.
"Stop smacking your gum Johnson," said Mathews as he slapped the private across the back of his head.
"Sorry sir, I didn't mean to annoy you." said Johnson as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Its just rude," said Mathews who was watching the sky waiting for their job to begin.
"There they are," said another soldier suddenly pointing to the almost crippled Chicken Little that was making its way towards its approach on the runway.
"Alright, lets move," said Mathews as he barked orders at all the men ordering them to start preparing to unload the wounded and repairing the things that needed to be fixed.
As the Chicken Little's tires made a screeching noise as they hit the runway, an emergency vehicle was already on sight to aid them encase of mechanical failure. It didn't have any issue and began to taxi under its own power towards Mathews who was already barking orders at the men.
"Johnson, it looks like the tail of the aircraft has lost some useabilty, go get the parts we need." said Mathews already examining the damaged craft as it came in.
Johnson barked several other orders at men as the rear of the Medea kicked open and two men came out carrying one man on a stretcher. The stretcher was quickly taken off by waiting medical staff and the two men began to walk under their own power towards Mathews. However, Johnson paid no attention to them as he was puzzled where the rest of the brigade seeing that there were was no armor, mobile weapons or even an infantry unit aboard the Medea. He made his way towards the telephone that was just inside the hanger.
"Get me the tower," said Johnson as he looked at the two men that limped towards him. After a moment the phone was picked up by someone in the control tower.
"This is Mathews, when is the rest of the 42nd Brigade arriving?" said Mathews with some annoyance that he couldn't get started earlier.
A look of shock came over Mathew's face as he heard what the controller at the tower said to him, he set the phone down in shock.
"Here are the keys, we are going to sleep. We are exhausted." said the pilot of the Chicken Little as he tossed a set of keys to Mathews.
"How many of you were there left on that plane?" said Mathews in astonishment.
The pilot had a grim look on his face then respond, "Four." He then made his way towards the barracks away from the shocked Mathews.
The shocked face of Mathews staggered back towards the Chicken Little with his company of soldiers waiting for instructions and more Medeas to land.
"When are the rest coming?" said Johnson as he came running back after ordering supplies be moved to the Chicken Little.
"They... aren't... they... are the only ones left." said Mathews with a baffled look on his face. The entire repair company stopped what they were doing as the word traveled down the line from soldier to soldier. They were going to have an easy day, and none of them liked it. Some of them stared off into the distance, not believing that no more Medeas would be coming. Some thought that at least one of the Tin Cods from the 42nd would make it back and waited till dusk staring at the runway, but not a single one had returned.
It wasn't uncommon for the men of Azeros to see a group of fighters return with one or two Tin Cods not returning. The missing man formation wasn't something that was reacted at airshows for them it was a fact of life. Yet none of them were prepared for that day. Orders had been issued that morning that the 42nd Brigade was returning and they were in need of repairs. Technical Chief Mathews knew that this would likely mean and prepared all of his men, giving them a speech that morning that they all needed to prepare to work overtime to get them back into action as quickly as possible. A whole company of men were waiting near the tarmac that morning for the Medeas to start landing.
"Stop smacking your gum Johnson," said Mathews as he slapped the private across the back of his head.
"Sorry sir, I didn't mean to annoy you." said Johnson as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Its just rude," said Mathews who was watching the sky waiting for their job to begin.
"There they are," said another soldier suddenly pointing to the almost crippled Chicken Little that was making its way towards its approach on the runway.
"Alright, lets move," said Mathews as he barked orders at all the men ordering them to start preparing to unload the wounded and repairing the things that needed to be fixed.
As the Chicken Little's tires made a screeching noise as they hit the runway, an emergency vehicle was already on sight to aid them encase of mechanical failure. It didn't have any issue and began to taxi under its own power towards Mathews who was already barking orders at the men.
"Johnson, it looks like the tail of the aircraft has lost some useabilty, go get the parts we need." said Mathews already examining the damaged craft as it came in.
Johnson barked several other orders at men as the rear of the Medea kicked open and two men came out carrying one man on a stretcher. The stretcher was quickly taken off by waiting medical staff and the two men began to walk under their own power towards Mathews. However, Johnson paid no attention to them as he was puzzled where the rest of the brigade seeing that there were was no armor, mobile weapons or even an infantry unit aboard the Medea. He made his way towards the telephone that was just inside the hanger.
"Get me the tower," said Johnson as he looked at the two men that limped towards him. After a moment the phone was picked up by someone in the control tower.
"This is Mathews, when is the rest of the 42nd Brigade arriving?" said Mathews with some annoyance that he couldn't get started earlier.
A look of shock came over Mathew's face as he heard what the controller at the tower said to him, he set the phone down in shock.
"Here are the keys, we are going to sleep. We are exhausted." said the pilot of the Chicken Little as he tossed a set of keys to Mathews.
"How many of you were there left on that plane?" said Mathews in astonishment.
The pilot had a grim look on his face then respond, "Four." He then made his way towards the barracks away from the shocked Mathews.
The shocked face of Mathews staggered back towards the Chicken Little with his company of soldiers waiting for instructions and more Medeas to land.
"When are the rest coming?" said Johnson as he came running back after ordering supplies be moved to the Chicken Little.
"They... aren't... they... are the only ones left." said Mathews with a baffled look on his face. The entire repair company stopped what they were doing as the word traveled down the line from soldier to soldier. They were going to have an easy day, and none of them liked it. Some of them stared off into the distance, not believing that no more Medeas would be coming. Some thought that at least one of the Tin Cods from the 42nd would make it back and waited till dusk staring at the runway, but not a single one had returned.