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Hangtime8705

OFP Fan fiction

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Sorry if this topic sounds corny, but it would be cool if we start posting some fan fiction relative to OFP. People should just post stories and we read them and say what we liked about them. I just think it would be really cool. If any1 has stories they'd like to post, please do. If this is popular this will be really cool. biggrin_o.gif

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Okay, I'll start-

A chill in the air bit at the back of my neck, the hair standing up. In the distance, a storm was approaching. Finding a suitable position, I set up my m249 and began a quick inspection of the weapon. My squadmates fell to the eart also, in what is known as a "hasty defense." The brige we were protecting crossed a small, but vital, stream. This would be my third time in battle with the Chinese. I hoped it wouldn't be my last.

In the distance, the cacophony of small arms was dying out, resistance was futile, their loudspeakers chanted.

"Turlington, be sure to check your final protective fire zones! There ain't much dead space here, so stay sharp!" I heard from my left as my platoon leader crawled by, his sixteen cradled in his arms. The handgrip of the SAW felt secure, safe in my hands. My friends were around me too, but still the cold sweats came. Even before baseball games as a kid i would get the sweats. It wasn't really the battle, just the anticipation. I sighted in and thumbed off the safety, a round already in the chamber.

The grumble grew louder again. I pulled a couple of boxes of ammo from my asspack. Not SOP, but in the field, nothing is. Placing the boxes next to the gun, I took a swig from my canteen, the water rushing down my throat, doing nothing other than making me sweat more. Needless to say, the fear gripped me in it's iron vise.

A couple of guys had crawled down the bank and were setting explosives underneath the bridge. Even though it was wet and useless, it was done anyway, a soggy reminder of our desperate situation in Korea.

The North Koreans and Chinese had waited until the UN forced a major US cutback of forces in the Asian theater, when our forces had little armor, and almost no aerial support. Now, in the second week of the conflict, we hung on by our fingernails, shooting at enemy tanks with ball ammo and steely nerve.

The Lieutenant's hand shot up from behind a bush as the mechanical noise advanced closer. It was the signal for alert. My squadmates and I looked feverishly at the other bank, scanning each tree, each bush, each blade of grass for signs of scouts. Raleigh, one of the grenadiers, popped a WP round into his blooper. He was methodical, as we all were. Tempered by battle, and willing to fight despite our fear, we waited.

And the grumbling was on top of us.

BreakerOut

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Thanks for replying Breaker. I really get to feel the emotion and fear of combat in what your wrote. Can't wait to hear more of this. Keep it up. Now lets get some more people in here.

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The Beginning

The year is 1941 and Germany is at the peak of its military plight. Europe has been conquered, with the war in North Africa raging on. The Afrika Korps waged heated battles against American and British forces. War in North Africa was turning into a stalemate. A weapon, that could destroy the allies needed to be developed. Germany wanted a tool that could change the tide of war in North Africa.

In the heart of Fort Scherzman, a secret German weapons facility, scientists began work on a deadly agent with purpose of killing millions. For two months Nazi scientists worked day and night to combine chemicals and biological germ strains that could kill in seconds. Finally, German scientists achieved the impossible, creating a chemical and biological agent that could withstand any natural environment. The new weapon was tested on a near German village and killed everyone. Captured French resistance operatives were also victims of this deadly weapon. Results were promising to the Germans and they began to think the war could be won.

The Luftwaffe began working with the scientists to develop a suitable delivery platform for the weapon. More extensive tests were done. Stuka dive bombers dropped a couple of small scale weapons on a town in France. A large cloud lingered over the town for three days, no one survived. As a safety measure, the Germans firebombed the area along with a neutralizing chemical to sanitize the area. Scientists soon began to realize that explosions simply enhanced the lethality and spread of the new agent. Due to this discovery, methods to increase the range and spread of the agent cloud were explored. More and more tests were conducted and the data received was promising. Germany was now in possession of a deadly super-weapon.

Hitler later received information about the success of the weapon. Immediately, he ordered them to be sent to the North African theater. He wanted the allies to be defeated, even at the cost of German soldiers. A long journey ensued as six of these deadly weapons were moved by train from Germany to Italy. Then the weapons were transferred to a boat that soon arrived at an undisclosed port in Tunisia. In no time at all, German Opel Blitz cargo trucks began delivering the weapons to a nearby air force base. Shortly thereafter, the bombs were loaded onto He-111 bombers, which were busy refueling at the time.

During that day the weather conditions started to deteriorate. At first Luftwaffe commanders refused to let the planes take off. But a direct order from the leader of the Third Reich himself overruled the base commander’s decision. Against all his rationale thinking the commander ordered the planes to take off into a torrential sandstorm extending for miles.

One by one six planes took from the airfield. Two almost crashed into the ground but quickly gained enough altitude. The bombers headed east towards allied forces encamped at El Haseiat, Libya. Visibility was horrible and the pilots had no idea why their commander ordered them to fly. Three hours passed while in the air and the pilots began wondering where they were. As the storm continued the bombers were deviating further and further from their course.

“I can’t see a fluch thing in this storm.†The lead pilot said to his co-pilot.

“And I don’t think this thing can hold up much longer.†Replied the co-pilot.

The He-111s bounced, shook, and rattled through the strong winds. Brown dust constantly bombarded the view from the cockpit. It looked like a brown abyss outside, nothing in sight. Cockpit instruments clattered and clipboards moved to and fro as the pilots tried to maintain formation and control of their aircraft. Inside the airplanes the pilots wobbled in their seats as the rapid moving aircraft tried to counter the hammering wind. Everyone could barely make out the other’s plane in the thick, opaque dust. None of these pilots had ever faced a sandstorm of this magnitude. Bits and grains of sand looked drops of rain. The clouds were dense and opaque like the murky waters of a swamp.

Things were hard enough for the pilots in the lead plane. Nothing could possibly get any worse.

“Scheiße! Our left engine is cutting off!†Co-pilot reported.

“It seems that way!†Lead pilot grumbled as he wrestled with the control stick.

The medium bomber moved erratically from left to right. Using all of his strength the pilot tried to fight the aircraft’s tendency to roll to the left.

“Altitude?!†Lead pilot asked.

“Uh… What the hell?!†Co-pilot said with a puzzled look on his face.

“What do you mean Hans!? I need numbers!â€

“Sorry Dieter, but this altitude gage is broken!â€

“How can it be busted?!â€

“These readings aren’t correct!â€

“Well, what do they say?!â€

Taking a quick look at the altitude gage, the co-pilot noticed the arrow was moving quickly from one hundred to twenty meters.

“It quickly switches from twenty to one hundred meters! The damned thing is broken!â€

Quickly, the lead pilot tried to set his bearings. He had no idea if he was heading in the right direction. Vertigo could have taken over already and he would not have even known, not with the storm keeping up the way it was. Then, in the distance, the lead pilot noticed something slowly emerging out of the storm.

“We must be getting close to something! Don’t know what it is!†Lead pilot noted.

“Could be an aircraft.†Co-pilot said.

Suddenly, the pilot noticed something horribly wrong.

“THAT’S A MOUNTAIN! WE GOT TO PULL UP!†Lead pilot yelled.

There was little time for the pilot to react. The towering peaks appeared suddenly, like ghosts. It was useless to try and save the aircraft now. In a sudden moment the left wing clipped the side of the mountain. Automatically, it rolled upside down, hurtling to the rocky bottom. One of the other pilots saw the lead plane plunge down. Suddenly, the peaks appeared causing the pilot to panic. On reflex, he banked the aircraft to the right unaware of the other He-111 off his wingtip. Both planes violently collided, forcing each other into a flat spin. Not noticing what just happened, the pilots of the remaining three aircraft continued to fly straight ahead, scraping the deadly peaks. Two of the bombers immediately nose dived. Lifelessly gliding ahead, the last plane eventually ripped apart as it tore through the sand at high speed.

Some of the wreckage caught on fire. But most of the flames were quickly suppressed by the blowing sand and wind. No pilot managed to survive the crashes, in spite of the fact that their bodies were remarkably intact. The crashed aircraft were scattered all over the Hoggar Mountain range in southern Algeria. Miraculously, the deadly payload of the bombers survived, unscathed by the turbulent crashes.

Hours later, Luftwaffe radio operators stopped trying to contact the lost bombers. They feared that the aircraft may have been shot down by British fighters or went down in the nasty sandstorm. Either outcome proved unfavorable, at least for the base commander. Hitler would be furious upon hearing the bad news. Unable to decide on telling German High Command the specifics the base commander started to get nervous.

Sitting in his leather office chair, the base commander looked around his office and began pondering. Twelve, brave, skilled pilots just died and an extremely deadly payload was missing. Things couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He got up from his chair and took a look at the runway through blinds on the window behind him. The storm just let up he noticed. In the distance he could see a line of Me-109 fighters parked just right of the runway. Sunlight peered through the blinds and shined on the commander’s brown desk. Looking back at his desk, revealed scattered papers, some of them dealing with flight operation due to take place later in the day. All kinds of other junk, pens, pencils, rulers littered the desk, reflecting on the base commander’s lack of organization. Things did not look good for him at the moment.

Trying to calm down he lit a cigarette, a Marlboro ironically. As he blew smoke from his nostrils he sunk down in his chair. Thoughts raced back and forth causing him to sweat. Horrible images passed his mind. Hitler would definitely have him killed for failing. Images of he and his family being shot by a firing squad kept appearing and he could not shake them off. Dying in such a way would be disgraceful, especially for a decorated German flight commander.

Realizing his options of life were limited he started to contemplate suicide. At least if he committed suicide, he would not have to die at the hands of a madman. Hopefully his family would be spared because he took his own life. But that really didn’t make much sense. The commander failed to realize that his thoughts were getting irrational. But he was terrified of what the Third Reich could do to him. They could kill him; they could torture him, all because he had failed. Why had they commanded him to send planes into a dangerous sandstorm? Didn’t they know the risk involved? They were the fools. But who would listen to this commander’s complaints. After all he was just a mere man in the Third Reich’s supposed majesty. There was nothing he could do and upon realizing this he reached for the gray Lugar pistol resting in the upper left hand corner of his desk. Slowly he brought the weapon up to his face and began to look at it. His hands started trembling and suddenly turned to ice. The gun in his hand started to feel like it weighed hundreds of pounds. This was turning into a circus act, the commander felt. A strong wave of sadness overcame the man. Thoughts of his family and his life rushed by him causing his eyes to water. Then, his emotions went cold like the steel of the pistol in his hands. Looking down the barrel of pistol he resolved to put the gun in his mouth. A second later he squeezed the trigger, scattering his brains all over the windowpane behind his desk.

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Yeah, i love writing. I was just hopin' i could gather all the creative minds and writers in the OFP community and form a really live topic. I guess you've read my stuff already. Thanks for reading it. Anyway, I really believe this could be a great flowing topic if people just post stuff they've written. And Breaker please feel free to post some more stuff. Your stuff is da bomb. Spread the word to. Thanks man.

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I've got 3-4 old short stories (need some improvement), but I lost them after I reformatted. They're on a forum somewhere but I don't want to dig em up right now, plus they're awful (in my opinion, but I'm a perfectionist).

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Heres one I just knocked up, I dont think its too good but oh well.

“My arse!†Private Jones said, getting into the back of the Land Rover 110. It was one of 5 vehicles going out on a patrol through a wooded and flat land area of Krysgev, an area of Bosnia.

“Jones you idiot, of course their going to sign Michaels, Man U know they would be nothing with out him.†Replied Lance Corporal Howard, who was already sitting in the back of the Landie. There’s was the second vehicle of the convoy, they where following another Landie with a GPMG mounted on the back. Behind them where two 4 toner Bedford trucks, and another Landie, this time a 90GS with a GPMG on the back again. The lead Land Rover started to pull off and their driver followed, almost tipping Private Gates out of the back of the Landie.

“Will you jerks shut the hell up!?†He said as he regained his balance. They where part of fire team Charlie, lead by Corporal MacDonald, who was ridding up front with their driver from the Signals regiment. Jones had the LMG, Howard the UGL and Gates had the LAW-80.

“Sorry man, Jesus, calm down a bit. You’ll blow us up with that god damn thing!†Howard pointed at the LAW of which Gates had laid on the floor.

The convoy they where in had now been travelling for about 30 minutes and had reached a small village. There was a burning car out the front of one of the 5 houses; it looked fresh, like it had only been there a few minutes. “Everyone get the hell out.†Shouted MacDonald. “Charlie, get over to that car now.†They jumped out of the back of the Landie, and moved quickly into a covering position near the car. As they did this, Delta and Golf fire teams where moving down the road towards the other houses, and a few people who came out of one of the far houses, wearing long jackets. Two men from Delta moved up towards the two men, SA80’s raised and commanded them to get down. The men obviously hadn’t seen them yet and jumped when they heard them. They turned towards the British soldiers, looking surprised. As they turned both men’s hands went quickly went inside their jackets, fear in their eyes. Gates saw this going on in the corner of his eye, seeing them reaching inside their jackets he could see what was going to happen.

“Gun!!†He yelled across, but it was too late, the two villagers brought up a hand gun and an UZI at the soldiers, one burst from the UZI caught the one soldier in the shoulder and the leg, knocking him to the floor, the other soldier got off a round into the one with the UZI, through the chest. He was hit a second latter in the head, killing him instantly by the other man with a pistol. The gunner on the lead Land Rover let of a burst at the one with the hand gun, taking him down, then turned his attention to the one who had been hit in the chest, who was trying to stumble away. He fired about 10 rounds into his back, making sure he was dead.

“Medic, get a bloody medic over here god damn it!†Shouted on of the other members of Delta who had ran over too the downed soldiers. Charlie team, moved with them, setting up an all round defensive position around the dead and wounded soldiers, watching the windows and the field in front of them as well. The drivers of the vehicles jumped out of the Land Rovers and trucks as well. Just as one of the drivers from the 4 toner jumped out, the whole truck was engulfed in a huge explosion of fire and metal, throwing the driver into a bush, missing an arm and obviously dead.

“Shit! What the hell is going on, look we got guys with RPG’s on the hill to the West.†Yelled Jones.

“Return God damn fire for fucks sake!†Shouted MacDonald, as he fired off 5 rounds at the men moving over the hill. Taking one down. Howard fired a M433 40mm Grenade at them as well, killing 2 and throwing them and a large amount of mud to the side. During this time Jones had set up the Bi-Pod on the LMG on the bonnet of the burning car. He laid down a huge amount of fire on the crest of the hill, causing the enemies to drop to the ground, taking cover. Fire team Golf was doing the same but Delta where combat ineffective and where dragging their comrades to safety inside a house, one of them unloading his magazine at the incoming tangos, covering the medic and the other members of Delta.

The two GPMG’s on the Landies where firing madly at the hill, trying to keep the heads down of the attacking men. There was a strange rumpling sound in the distance, over the crest of the hill. MacDonald was already on the Radio, asking for air support from the near by airfield. He was getting told that their where 2 Gazzles on their way over to them when the first of the 3 BMP’s rolled over the crest of the hill. Gates reached for the LAW on his back, just as one of the BMP’s fired a SABOT shell at the lead land rover, who’s gunner had leapt off seconds before, the rear land rover gunner following his example hit the dirt as his Landie got taken out as well. Gates lined up the first BMP with the LAW and fired off the rocket. He hit his mark and the turret off the rear BMP flew off and the body burst into flame.

“What the fuck are armoured BMP’s doing here?†He said getting into cover behind the car with the rest of his team again.

“How the hell should I…†Was the last thing any of them heard as another SABOT shell from one the BMP’s hit their cover, throwing them into a ditch like they where paper.

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If it's fan fiction then I think the only appropriate place is OT, general is for Flashpoint out of the box.

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