Believe it or not, I have been working very hard at minimizing my post size. The ones you are getting are much smaller than what I am accustomed to. The longest post I ever made was about 55 paragraphs long and encompassed over ten pages of MS Word Times New Roman 12pt. I actually wrote a book last November in NaNoWriMo as well. I just need to refine that one quite a bit before I consider publishing. It was over 52,000 words, raw. I don't know if I can get it down to 3-4 paragraphs. That just leaves so much unsaid that needs to be said. :D
- Last Seen: 11 hrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 5656 (1.24 / day)
- VMs: 9
-
Username history
- Gunther 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Emma,
Alisdragon911,
Angelique,
Krasnaya,
Hope Lover,
D3AD ST4R,
SouffleGirl123,
Antlers,
NovellaAddict,
Birdboy
Status
Recent Statuses
26 days ago
Current
Summer break begins today!
1
like
3 mos ago
I will continue to be one of the oldest members of this community in August.
12
likes
5 mos ago
If you are a fan of Warhammer 40,000 or Age of Sigmar, let me know. Maybe we can put together an RP. I play Ironjawz & Kruleboyz in AOS and Salamanders & Drukhari in 40K.
1
like
2 yrs ago
Happy holidays, everyone!
6
likes
2 yrs ago
Summer break is almost over. Back to work/school and all that non-fun stuff.
5
likes
Bio
I am a veteran of the United States Army and the US Army National Guard. I spent three years on Active Duty serving in the 4th Infantry Division (Mechanized) at Ft. Carson, CO, and the 3rd Armor Division at Kirch Göns, West Germany. I spent 18 years in the Army National Guard with the 26th Infantry Division "Yankee" and 29th Infantry Division (Light), "The Blue and the Gray". I was deployed to Bosnia-Herzegovina with the 29th ID (L) in 2001 - 2002. I have also been reading military history articles and books since I was 10 years old. I do prefer Military Role Plays over all other genres, primarily because I have a vast knowledge of the subject including personal experiences. At the very least, my characters are always veterans.
I have been writing for pleasure for at least 35+ years but only got into forum-based Role Playing about eighteen years ago. I do enjoy Nation Role Plays and get into minute detail when designing my military. The only reason I enjoy excruciating detail in my militaries is because for me, it is fun. My education and experience on this subject afford me the insight to see the depth of the structure. It is not just a General and a large pile of soldiers. If someone wants assistance in designing an army, navy, or air force, please send me a PM. I will help. Please specify what level (echelon) or depth you would like me to go. When I say echelon, I mean Army, Corps, Division, Brigade/Regiment, Battalion/Squadron, Company/Troop/Battery, Platoon, and Squad/Section.
When I was a student in High School, I used to play Dungeons & Dragons. Recently, I have been DMing a 5e campaign of my creation for my son and his friends. 5e is so much less cumbersome than earlier editions of D&D. I do have an interest in Tolkien-esque fantasy-styled Role Plays as well. Time travel has always been a fun genre for me, but to do it well, one must have a firm grasp of historical facts.
There are only a few fanfictions I will participate in; Star Wars and Star Trek are two of them. I want to do an exclusively Klingon RP one of these days. I also avoid Canon characters.
I have real-world martial arts experience. I would love to write an RP about hand-to-hand combat, no fantasy magic chit, just hands elbows, knees, and feet. Maybe the occasional head butt thrown in to mix things up. I trained in Krav Maga for six and a half years. I earned a first-degree black belt in Krav Maga on 3 June 2017.
Krav Maga is an Israeli martial art form that employs practical self-defense techniques drawing forms & techniques from Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and Taekwando. It is very brutal, demanding, and aggressive. During the seven years I trained, I have bruised two ribs, sustained several muscle pulls, and various lacerations and bruises over my body. I have received a sprained ankle and a fractured wrist. Before the first black belt test, I received a bone bruise to my right shin; where my roundhouse kicks impact. Yet, I am stupid enough to continue training. [Regardless of the physical pain, it is more fun than any other physical activity I have engaged in. Fortunately, the bone bruise healed up prior to the third and final test. EDIT: I did leave the sport over five years ago. :(]
Over two years ago I completed my first novel, a science fiction set in the 24th century. It focuses on a Private Military Corporation solely employed by the earth government. I started a second book in November 2022 and hope to work on that this summer when I have more time.
Send me a PM for a Role Play or if you would like to see what sort of an army I could build for you.
--Gunther (AKA: Old School)
Gunthers Cast of Hooligans
I have been writing for pleasure for at least 35+ years but only got into forum-based Role Playing about eighteen years ago. I do enjoy Nation Role Plays and get into minute detail when designing my military. The only reason I enjoy excruciating detail in my militaries is because for me, it is fun. My education and experience on this subject afford me the insight to see the depth of the structure. It is not just a General and a large pile of soldiers. If someone wants assistance in designing an army, navy, or air force, please send me a PM. I will help. Please specify what level (echelon) or depth you would like me to go. When I say echelon, I mean Army, Corps, Division, Brigade/Regiment, Battalion/Squadron, Company/Troop/Battery, Platoon, and Squad/Section.
When I was a student in High School, I used to play Dungeons & Dragons. Recently, I have been DMing a 5e campaign of my creation for my son and his friends. 5e is so much less cumbersome than earlier editions of D&D. I do have an interest in Tolkien-esque fantasy-styled Role Plays as well. Time travel has always been a fun genre for me, but to do it well, one must have a firm grasp of historical facts.
There are only a few fanfictions I will participate in; Star Wars and Star Trek are two of them. I want to do an exclusively Klingon RP one of these days. I also avoid Canon characters.
I have real-world martial arts experience. I would love to write an RP about hand-to-hand combat, no fantasy magic chit, just hands elbows, knees, and feet. Maybe the occasional head butt thrown in to mix things up. I trained in Krav Maga for six and a half years. I earned a first-degree black belt in Krav Maga on 3 June 2017.
Krav Maga is an Israeli martial art form that employs practical self-defense techniques drawing forms & techniques from Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and Taekwando. It is very brutal, demanding, and aggressive. During the seven years I trained, I have bruised two ribs, sustained several muscle pulls, and various lacerations and bruises over my body. I have received a sprained ankle and a fractured wrist. Before the first black belt test, I received a bone bruise to my right shin; where my roundhouse kicks impact. Yet, I am stupid enough to continue training. [Regardless of the physical pain, it is more fun than any other physical activity I have engaged in. Fortunately, the bone bruise healed up prior to the third and final test. EDIT: I did leave the sport over five years ago. :(]
Over two years ago I completed my first novel, a science fiction set in the 24th century. It focuses on a Private Military Corporation solely employed by the earth government. I started a second book in November 2022 and hope to work on that this summer when I have more time.
Send me a PM for a Role Play or if you would like to see what sort of an army I could build for you.
--Gunther (AKA: Old School)
Gunthers Cast of Hooligans
Most Recent Posts
I have posted and begun working on a journal for Joseph Filion here. Although I did get the idea immediately from @MatthiasAngel, Thank you sir. I have actually done this in prior RPs.
Joe's Journal
See Convalescence (A New World) by Vermillion et al. This is the Journal maintained by Captain Joseph Filion, Sr. after the plague of the 21st century wiped out over 90% of the human population on the planet. The RP takes place in the year 2032, sixteen years after the loss of mankind. Only the scant few survivors are left, trying to eke out a living. This journal starts with the death of his wife, Pam and carries his adventures forward with his two children. For more information about Joe Filion, check out the character Sheet here
April 3, 2016
This is very difficult to write. I promise to maintain this journal of the events of our lives after your death. You died on a Sunday. I miss you very much. You were the love of my life. I don't know if I can go on without you, but I must. Theresa and Joseph need me to survive. They cannot without my help. This new strange world will be dark and barren without your beautiful smile and quick wit. You knew how to make me laugh. We were one person, together. Now I have a void inside my heart; an emptiness that may never be filled...I...don't know....
April 6, 2016
We buried Pam this morning. It was difficult not to cry. Maybe some can cry freely, but I cannot. I allowed myself that when I was alone. I didn't want to appear weak to the kids. I could not cry in front of them.
I miss you Pam! Please come back!!!
I know you won't come back, but my heart is tearing up. What will I do. I have no plan. Maybe I should just commit sui...
I can't even write the word. I know I can't do that. Theresa and Joey need me. I must be strong for them. Man, this is one of the most difficult things of my life. Harder than Ranger school.
April 10, 2016
I have resolved to go on. I must do it for Terry and Joey. They need my help.
I changed into my ACUs because I would rather be somewhat camouflaged in this strange new world. I have no idea who survived this apocalypse. Not everyone will be trustworthy. I know I must find help to survive, but I don't want to think everyone is going to want to stay with others like me. I must be somewhat diplomatic. If I can approach with something to share or trade, I would have a position of leverage.
Today, we took the minivan to the armory. I still have the keys. There is no one around. There never is. Not anymore. I felt it was safer to start carrying my own .45. I've had the thing since after I came off active duty. I always like the heavier punch of the .45 over the 9mm. But who knows. I guess the FBI doesn't agree with me. They say there is no difference between the .45 and a .22.
I was able to get into the unit arms room. No one had been in there yet. I found the keys to the arms room in the First Sergeant's safe. Yes, I know the combination. It wasn't that difficult. I also had the keys to the supply room.
In the arms room, I found the following equipment:
10x Mk 19 Automatic Grenade Launchers
10x M2 .50 caliber machine guns
8x TOW missile sights (Tube Launched, Optically Sighted, Wire guided missiles)
2x 120mm Mortar Systems
4x M240 Machine guns
4x M249 SAWs (Squad Automatic Weapons)
4x M4 Carbines with M203 Grenade Launchers
4x Mk 14 Enhanced Battle Rifles
10x M9 9mm Berrettas
91x M4 Carbines
trunk full of Aluminum 30-round box magazines for the M4 Carbines.
In the rear of the Armory, I found the following vehicles:
24x M1025/M1026 HMMWVs
8x M996 HMMWVs (TOW carrier)
1x M1037 HMMWV shelter carrier with S250 shelter
2x M998 cargo/troop carrier HMMWV with 3/4 ton trailer
2x 2-1/2 Ton cargo truck with 1x 5/4 ton cargo trailer & 1x 400-gallon water trailer
1x 5-ton wrecker
The Supply Room contained enough sets of TA-50 gear to outfit two platoons of soldiers; at least sixty sets.
I looked over the trucks first trying to decide which one I should take, knowing I wanted space to put equipment in and room for Theresa and Joseph. They are only six and four and would love to ride in one of daddy's army trucks. The deuce and a half would be too large and consumes a lot of fuel, but would have more than enough cargo space. The Hummvee on the other hand would be a more comfortable ride and I could mount a machine gun on top, assuming I can find someone to man it. It also has ample cargo space for our needs. I chose my M1025, which mounts a .50 caliber Machine gun. The bumper markings indicate 42I2C101 and C-6. In the center of the rear bumper is a black star and NYARNG.
From the Arms room, I took an M240 Machine gun to mount in the pintle on the roof. I don't have any bullets for it, but at least I have a little heavy firepower. No one to shoot it either. I took twenty M4 Carbines from the Arms room plus the four Mark 14 EBRs and two SAWs. I still don't have ammunition for any of these, but the firepower is quite overwhelming when loaded. I'll work on the bullets later. The last thing I took from the arms room was the ten M9 Pistols and all the magazines I could find. Those might come in handy a lot sooner.
Finally, I loaded eight duffel bags full of TA-50 equipment. Each duffel bag includes:
Molle Tactical Assault Panel (TAP) or Assault Vest to include modular pouches for ammunition, first aid kit and two one-quart canteens
Molle 2 Rucksack and frame
2-quart Bladder system
Kevlar Helmet with camouflage cover
Shelter half with pins, ropes and poles
Wet weather poncho
Wet weather parka
wet weather trousers
wet weather boots
laundry bag
Intrenching tool with cover
I also picked up spare flashlights, batteries, four 5-gallon fuel cans, two 5-gallon water cans, three cases of MREs (Meal, Ready to Eat) and four shovels.
I used a five foot by three foot cart to haul everything from the armory out the back bay door and load them into the back of the HMMWV. There was no reason to mount the M240 in the pintle yet since I didn't have any ammunition. The MREs would come in handy until we established a viable food source. At least I still had my .45.
Once, I had everything loaded, the kids and I waved good bye to the minivan and we headed back to the house. I wanted to get my own personal field gear and uniforms as well as my M1A SOCOM 16 Carbine. That would definitely come in handy. The Dillon Reloading press would also be coming with us and as much 550-foot lb cord or Parachute cord I could find.
At the house, I loaded up those other items as well as a storage bin filled with my reloading kit. I had reloading dies for 5.56mm, 7.62mm, 9mm parabellum and .45 caliber. Those would come in handy for now. I still had a few bags of gunpowder and primers for the cartridges as well as the tools needed to reload ammunition. These tools will come in handy as fresh ammo will run out quick.
We spent the night at the house.
April 11, 2016
This morning, I began wearing the ACUs from the unit. They will be my survival clothing. I put on the Molle assault vest with 2-quart bladder on underneath, filled. I had mounted a holster for my .45 on the assault vest and inerted the pistol with a full magazine. The remaining magazines were loaded and placed in ammo pouches.
After breakfast, the kids and I got into the HMMWV along with our clothing. I donned the Buffalo Bills cap I got last season. I've never been a fan of Rex Ryan, but he was really changing the team for the better. It was an 8-8 season, but I know they could do better. They just needed a few more years to develop the talent Ryan was putting in the roster. I know they will beat the Patriots this year, those no good cheaters.
I ran into Gene Moll and Corbin Chandler at the Police Station. They obviously had the same idea I did. Fortunately for me, Chandler, a 6'4" black man originally from from California had the keys to the arms room. He unlocked it and we took what was there including ammunition. I kept a Mossberg 500 Tactical 12-guage shotgun and as much ammunition as I could carry. I loaded the 9mm magazines in the Hummer and kept a few available as needed.
Gene and Corbin had a few survivors in their families and were willing to join us in a group. I talked them into taking a trip to Ft. Drum tomorrow. I'll share my MREs and we'll pick up some groceries from the store later today.
Joseph Filion
Gregory Bainbridge stood near the door, glanced back at Joe as he put the wires away, "you look like you've had more luck than me, Joe."
"Yea, a wrench, a pair of pliers and some copper wire." Joe rose to his feet to stand with Gregory and Theresa. "I'll give these to Andy when we get back to Ural. He may be able to use these."
"Joe, gimme a sec, I'll go look across the street, Terry, watch my back, would you?" Grisha was out the door and across the street before Terry or Joe could respond. They hastily took positions near the door or a window peering left and right, as well as across the street in order to detect any possible threats to Grisha's run.
Greg Bainbridge didn't get very far before he decided there wasn't much more to see on the other side of the road. He turned about and called back to the father and daughter, "There's a parkin' lot on the other side of the street and one of the buildings! Wanna check it out?" Obviously Grisha didn't feel the need to remain quiet amongst the ruins that had once been an industrial park.
"I guess Grish wants us to come up with him. Keep an eye out and stay low," Joe muttered loud enough for Terry to hear him, but not loud enough for anyone else.
Joe and Terry began slowly trotting, with their backs hunched over. Their weapons were hung low, loosely gripped in their hands. Grisha began walking back towards them. As he continued his movement, Joe heard a peculiar sound. He could hear the engine roaring towards them. It immediately sent a red flag up in his head.
"Hey, Joe, do you hear a motor? That doesn't sound like it belongs to us."
"Get down!" Joe exclaimed sending the three ducking behind rocks or wrecks, hiding amongst the weeds. Joe recognized the music blaring from the car as it raced past them, hidden in the debris and overgrown weeds. Images of American helicopters advancing on a quiet Vietnamese village filled his head. He recalled watching an old war movie with his dad when he was a kid. It was one of those father-son bonding moments and the song had always given him a good feeling. One of the actors in the movie asked for the song to be played because it motivated his men and scared the hell out of the gooks. He didn't quite know what a gook was when he was a kid and didn't understand the reference much. But today, with the Wagner's Ride of the Valkyrie blasting from the speeding car, he wasn't feeling good about the current situation and hoped he would be able to have more father son bonding moments in the future.
The crew of Ular could now see the rapidly approaching motor vehicle. Everyone had taken up positions inside the tank except Franklin and Joe Jr. Franklin stood behind the 12.7mm heavy machine gun. Joe Jr. lay prone behind the turret with his head and carbine poking around the right side. Both Joe and Franklin immediately recognized the threat approaching them. They knew there was nothing they could do to stop the car. They watched two people, one from the driver's side and one from the passenger's side roll out past their respective doors into the grass and roadway. The car continued to hurtle towards them. The hint of a fire from inside the car could be seen.
"Shiiiiiiiit!" Joe yelled as he attempted to make himself as small as possible immediately behind the turret. Joe hugged his legs in the fetal position as Franklin dropped down on top hugging the younger man as the car impacted with the front slop of the T-72 Main Battle Tank.
The explosion was very loud. It sent a dark black and red mushroom cloud skyward. The noise was deafening and would leave those in the impact area with an annoying ringing sensation in their ears. The concussive blast caused a wave of heat to immediately expand over and around Joe and Franklin at the rear of the tank. It was as though someone turned a large hair dryer on with setting boiling and a quarter of a second later, the hair dryer was off. The concussive blast rolled past them, moving on.
As soon as the explosion passed them, Joe opened his eyes and put his hands to his ears. He could hear the ringing noise and his head hurt. A slight trickle of blood dripped from his left ear; he'd apparently punctured an ear drum. He looked at Franklin as he slowly got off him. Both young men had the widest eyes anyone had seen. Joe then slowly brought himself back to the moment. His hearing slowly made its way back. He grabbed his carbine and tried to get back to where he was; in the prone position looking down the right side of the turret, but he just couldn't get himself back there, yet.
"What the fuck!" Joe Sr. yelled. He tried very hard not to swear around his daughter, but he couldn't hold it. It was one of those involuntary reactions. He immediately looked at his daughter, "I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't mean for you to hear that." Joe felt genuinely bad for cussing in front of her.
She smiled and said, "it's OK, dad." She looked back in the direction of the tank and the black cloud of smoke drifting away. "I just hope Joe is OK." Her smile faded as quickly.
Terry attempted to get to a standing position to head toward the tank, just as her father grabbed her. "Get down!" Joe exclaimed once again in hushed tones. "There could be others around here. Stay down and stay hidden. Keep your ears open and your head on a swivel. Stay frosty. If you see anything or hear anything let me know."
Joe and Terry laid in the tall grass with Grisha behind a boulder looking at the tank, looking at the area in front of the tank where the car had just come from and back behind them where the car had originally come from to see if there were more people around. This could be simply the initiation of a large ambush and the three, no, the eight of them were stuck in the middle of the kill zone.
Vermillion will not pot until after Section has posted. More than likely, they will be about a confrontation with Vermillion's three NPCs, Frier and Watson Brothers.
Me too!
We were located near the Minuteman Monument on Massachusetts Ave, across from Buckman Tavern. So when the engagement occurred, we were behind the British Infantry. Here are a few shots I took this morning around 6AM.
We were located near the Minuteman Monument on Massachusetts Ave, across from Buckman Tavern. So when the engagement occurred, we were behind the British Infantry. Here are a few shots I took this morning around 6AM.
I got up very early this morning and drove to Lexington, Massachusetts with three of my children. We arrived around 0445 this morning and watched a re-enactment of the Battle of Lexington on the Green. It was "Wicked" cool!
I was hoping Section and I could collaborate on this post, but I felt it best to post my contribution first and then let him feed off that. I have given him permission to control my character "Joe" and his daughter "Theresa" in as much as moving them around. The three should remain together. He doesn't have to write dialogue or thoughts for them, but movements and even rifle fire would be appropriate, if he believes that is necessary for his post.
Joe Jr. will be positioned either on the back of the tank or nearby on the ground. If the tank should come under fire, Joe Jr. would jump down and return fire with his M4.
Joe Jr. will be positioned either on the back of the tank or nearby on the ground. If the tank should come under fire, Joe Jr. would jump down and return fire with his M4.
Joe Filion
The night before...
The group of eight sat around the glowing campfire as it's light danced against the side of Ural their Czech built T-72, cold war era tank. The beast had seen better days, but was still functional thanks to the tender care of Andy O'Keefe and watchful eye of its current owner Gregory Bainbridge.
"I could go for an ice cold can of Coke," Joe Filion muttered.
Andy O'Keefe looked up at him, smiling. "Yea, with a shot of Seagram's Seven in it," the only true tanker in the group blurted out.
Joe had to laugh at that, "I preferred Jack Daniels. It had the right bite." Theresa's head leaned in against her father's left shoulder. A smile pierced her lips. She enjoyed it when her dad and Mr. O'Keefe talked about the old world. It brought back memories of her mom. She cherished those times, even though she was only six when the world went to hell.
"How about a big frickin' Cuban cigar!?" Andy O'keefe offered.
"You have one!?" Joe asked.
"No, sadly I do not. I wish I had more than a few. I'd share."
"We can always dream." Joe kicked a bit of dirt into the fire. "Those were the days. I recall my dad had a rebuilt '68 Chevy Camaro with a four-fifty-four big block V8 engine. Man, I still remember that car. She purred like a kitten and roared like a lion." Joe and his daughter both smiled thinking about the car. "That was one sweet ride. I remember him driving it to the local American Legion with me and my sister in the back seat as kids. Dad served in the Marines. He had been in Beirut in '83 when the barracks were bombed. After he came home, he went to work for the railroad, met my mom, got married and had me." Joe sat quietly for several seconds staring into the fire. "Man, how times have changed."
Today...
Joe found himself in an old factory somewhere in Seattle, Washington. Gregory Bainbridge and Theresa Filion stood near watching something in the distance. Joe squatted down poking a stick in the rubble. He found a rusted old wrench, size 9/16" and a pair of rusted old pliers with the slip joint. He tucked the tools in a cargo pocket and dug some more. He then uncovered a plastic case. This time, he retrieved his leatherman tool and brought out its screwdriver. He was able to disassemble the cover on the plastic case revealing several copper wires of various colors. He cut one end and began pulling on them until he had seven strands of copper wire measuring six feet in length. He coiled them up and shoved them into the same cargo pocket.
I've never seen an Air Rifle that can produce more than blindness or squirrel stew.
© 2007-2026