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I want everyone here to know that Feinstein, with two missions under his belt to this point, is my longest-surviving character in any goon LP so far. I don't know yet if I'm permanently cursed or if Feinstein is unkillable. We'll find out.
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Jun 27, 2019 23:00
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| # ? May 3, 2024 17:16 |
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Brace yourselves, goons! Here comes the shitstorm!
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Jun 27, 2019 23:05
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Welp. Rest in peace, Fred.
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Jun 27, 2019 23:06
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For what we are about to receive...
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Jun 27, 2019 23:16
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Gonna need bodies again!
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Jun 27, 2019 23:26
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Wellp. WHo is left alive at this point?
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Jun 28, 2019 05:34
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Vinceti is alive at the moment, probably not going to be for long though. With any luck my next guy will last longer.
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Jun 28, 2019 06:10
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Wonder how the story reboots if we get a TPK!
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Jun 28, 2019 06:21
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wedgekree posted:Wonder how the story reboots if we get a TPK! "But war? War never changes."
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Jun 28, 2019 06:34
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Oh drat. After the last missions, it was bound to get ugly sooner or later...curse those tanks. For once I hope the airstrike will go wide...else the NVA will be puzzled as they struggle to understand where this close air support for them came from.
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Jun 28, 2019 06:41
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Guthrie's pulling out that guitar and starting to play "Nearer My God To Thee" before we all get plastered by our own bombs.
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Jun 28, 2019 06:56
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"Fire! George!"
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Jun 28, 2019 09:40
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I see the US Air Force is doing their traditional thing of bombing everything, including friendlies.
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Jun 28, 2019 13:36
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Jun 28, 2019 14:58
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Left my manuals in a friend's car, so unfortunately the to be continued might be a bit longer than I hoped...
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Jun 29, 2019 05:46
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Top Hats Monthly posted:Left my manuals in a friend's car, so unfortunately the to be continued might be a bit longer than I hoped... Nice trick to keep the suspense 
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Jun 29, 2019 06:40
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Faction: US Army Name: Bobson "Bob" Dugnutt Age: 26 Hometown: Arco, Idaho, United States Character description: Bobson Dugnutt is an orphan. His classmates would mock him saying his name was chosen by an illiterate mother because he was Bob's son. Bobson, who goes by Bob to avoid questions, is the son of two eccentrics who lived up near remote Lemhi Pass in a secluded shack. It is unknown if either of them were named Bob. One day his parents drove him to the big local town (population about 600) Arco and then disappeared forever. A clergyman provided food and shelter for young Bobson, and Bobson grew up as the local bad kid. Bobson would shoot out random window panes, steal cars, set fires, and leave cryptic messages scrawled in mud or paint on people's homes. Bobson always evaded capture, and the Butte County Sherriff could never pin him down. Until Bobson tried to break into the Idaho National Laboratory. Then he was very much in custody. After determining Bobson had not discovered anything of note during his escapade and was not actually attempting any kind of real espionage, the authorities offered him the chance to enlist to avoid prison. Bobson was resistant until the clergyman who provided for him told him that he could basically do the same things in Vietnam he had been doing in Idaho: run around, shoot things. Bobson accepted. Bobson has been shooting since youth and is a good marksman. He is also adept at breaking into things. Other than that, he has very little in the way of technical or people skills. Bobson has no goals, no particular malice or love for any person or group of people. He does not long for home. He just wants to run around and cause trouble. Where doesn't matter. csm141 fucked around with this message at 15:12 on Jun 29, 2019 |
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Jun 29, 2019 15:08
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Aaaaaahhh, how did I miss this! Pretty hype!
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Jun 30, 2019 02:29
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Well, I just binged all of this - holy crap this is awesome  One more for the meatgrinder (and with what's about to happen I sense you'll need more):FACTION: US Army NAME: Mark "Boatlugger" Downes AGE: 28 HOMETOWN: Dover, Delaware, United States SPECIAL ROLE: Rifleman or something more CQC/assault based, don’t mind. A former civilian welder at Dover's dockyards, Mark had been coasting through life with a bunch of old former football jock school buddies made good; and that was by making plenty of bank in the streets on late poker nights after a hard night at the 'yards (except on Friday nights when they pooled up, rocked up, and slammed through whatever bars were open between 14th and 28th Streets, and Sunday nights where the group went pulling in the places they didn't smash on Friday). He knew the US was at war, but honestly, he didn't give a gently caress. Why go die broke when he could make a drat good living with plenty of cash and easy pulls where he was? Besides, he didn't care much for fancy Navy talk, but he knew that "protected occupations" were a thing, and working for a private firm contracting for the Navy was one of ... that thing. Not to mention, even if he did get hit hard in the head enough to volunteer, it sure as gently caress wouldn't be for the Navy. Boats're much less cool and exciting when you're stuck inside them building the drat things all day, all weeks, all weather. Then, it all went sideways. The contractor, in a fit of patriotic pique, allowed the Navy to pay them off enough to build some loving admin building in-state in exchange for letting the Navy staff most of their contractor positions with reservists. Bang went Mark's safe job, and suddenly, his old lifestyle of keeping fit thumping folks became a liability. Knowing that he was in perfect drafting territory now, he settled on a plan one of his old poker buddies cooked up one desperate drinking session. He volunteered for a medical, looking eager, but then made sure to mention a very specific set of ailments his buddy had primed him on, designed to invalidate him for service. "Thalassophobia" (Mark never checked what that meant, but what the hell, worth a try)? No Navy worries. Airsick easy? No Air Force worries. Couldn't swim? No Marine worries. He rattled them all off, enjoying the draft doctor's increasingly frustrated look. Unfortunately, Mark's friend forgot to add in a wheeze to throw off that most important branch; the Army. Mark was as surprised as anyone else when the drafting orders for the Army came into the PO Box next morning; funnily enough, if he'd kept punching that friend of his when the MPs came to collect him for service, he might have ended up dodging the draft on a felony charge. And then some lousy gently caress in training heard he was an ex-dockworker and gave him that nickname after Mark cleaned him out one night at poker. He's kind of proud of the state he left that dick in, but it wasn't fast enough to stop the name spreading around camp. Serpentis fucked around with this message at 17:10 on Jul 1, 2019 |
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Jun 30, 2019 22:03
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All caught up! FACTION: US Army Corps of Engineers NAME: Terrance "Terry" Antonio AGE: 33 HOMETOWN: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania SPECIAL ROLE: Combat Engineer Terrance had a decent life, with a loving wife, and worked at a local machine shop. Unfortunately, that all ended when his wife was struck down with an unexpected stroke. Hit hard, Terry turned to the bottle and turned up to work drunk and late one too many times. With nothing holding him back now, he volunteered at the army recruiter in a fit of drunken patriotism.
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Jul 7, 2019 04:49
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Comrade Koba fucked around with this message at 08:31 on Nov 18, 2019 |
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Jul 10, 2019 14:21
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As of today my friend has returned from a long vacation and I now have my FNG books. Update coming soon this week.
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Jul 10, 2019 14:44
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Top Hats Monthly posted:As of today my friend has returned from a long vacation and I now have my FNG books. Update coming soon this week. Woo! 
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Jul 10, 2019 16:49
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Glad to hear it!
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Jul 10, 2019 17:52
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Was getting a bit worried for the LP for a second, glad everything's still on. Now I can go back to worrying about our doomed squad.
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Jul 10, 2019 20:49
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Update tonight. Prepare your national cemeteries for a few more men.
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Jul 16, 2019 16:32
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If Lemke had survived this tour he was going to serve the rest of his commitment with the honor guard at Arlington. One way or the other he was headed to the national cemetery.
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Jul 16, 2019 18:08
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The game's "building collapse" mechanics are not very expansive. I invented my own. Roll one d20. Below 5, instantly dead below 10, severely wounded and roll for where the heavy injuries were, below 15 lightly wounded/knocked down, above 15 OK. TIME UNKNOWN FEBURARY 8 1966 Music: Various - We Were Soldiers Lt. Surge rolled over, blood streaming from his face. The pain shot through his body from everywhere. The world was silent, the occasional cries of the injured making their way through his ruptured ear drums. He rolled over to the side. The church was leveled. The NVA too had retreated from the bloody morass. He felt something rubbery, and peeled it from his face. Pvt. Sanville lay with agonal breaths beside the Lieutenant. His grey matter coating Lt. Surge. Lt. Surge looked up at the sky, waiting to die. "...Oh...God..." Pvt. Feinstein muttered. "I'm alive..." he continued, having escaped the collapsing church, Pvt. Feinstein felt very alone. He walked around examining the wounded and beginning triage. Spc4. Delgado emerged from the rubble as well, somehow only with a minor injury. Sgt. Guthrie and Spc4. Delgado emerged from the ruined structure as well, significantly worse for wear. The two other squads were severely damaged as well, but thankfully their medic survived unscathed. The work to save those wounded began. "drat...alright everyone...if you're still alive form up behind the church. Bac, get on the horn and get as many choppers here as possible..." said Sgt. Guthrie, holding his head in pain and dragging Lt. Surge to a triage area. "TOC this is Spc4. Delgado, we are over 90% casualty. The enemy retreated after the bombing run, but we need as many dust offs as possible, as well as reinforcements in case they attack again." We have to roll dust offs one at a time, and each helicopter can carry three wounded. We had a good roll here. "Roger that...hold on. Reinforcements will arrive soon as well." the voice quickly responded. Pvt. Sanville and the other medic, Cpl. Jefferson, began to count the wounded and the bodies. "Squad 3-1, Lt. Surge Immediate, Pvt. Sanville Expectant..." as he was listing, a heavily wounded Pfc. Doren was dragged out to the triage site, bleeding heavily but still in good spirits. "Golly...they sure whacked us." he said, before Cpl. Jefferson jabbed him with a syrette full of morphine. Pvt. Norfindorf managed, shockingly, to escape the collapsing church without further injury aside from his leg. He plopped down next to Lt. Surge and brushed the blood out of his eyes. I even gave Norf a -5 on his roll considering he'd already been shot in the leg. Lucky bastard. "How're you feelin' Lieutenant?" he asked, gritting his teeth through the pain. Lt. Surge didn't respond, and simply tucked a photo of his strange pet into Pvt. Norfindorf's helmet strap before falling back into unconsciousness. He glanced back at the crumbled church, Pvt. Vinceti's hand sticking out of the rubble, mangled. Cpl. Hunter was laying unconscious at the edge of the church while members of squad 3-2 and 3-3 attempted to pull him out. Cpl. Jefferson raced over to him and still found him alive, albeit with severe chest injuries. Vinceti had a -15 on his roll, considering he was already blinded and with a brain injury. I'm going to miss him, I had a lot of character exposition planned out. "poo poo...poo poo..." said Cpl. Jefferson, as he attempted to close the sucking chest wound. A helicopter sat down. After managing to tear Cpl. Hunter from the wreckage, the first three wounded were loaded into the helicopter. Lt. Surge, Cpl. Hunter, and Pfc. Doren were put on the first helicopter. Another helicopter came around, but this one was...strange. It did not have US Army or US Marine markings. It was just a plain drab color. Multiple people in non-standard uniforms rappelled down. They immediate approached the concussed Sgt. Guthrie.  "Agent F.C. you don't need to know who I am. We're setting up field operations." said the man in the white shirt and brown pants. A hulking man came up behind him after stumbling rappelling off the chopper. "Petty Officer Hardcastle, USN. This area is of great importance to us. We heard you over the radio. Sorry about your friends." he bellowed, as huey after huey landed in the area. A second dustoff landed, two severely wounded from squad 3-2 were loaded in, and Pvt. Norfindorf as well. Repeated dustoffs came by and picked up the rest of 3-2 and 3-3. The once proud squad now had three people remaining, Sgt. Guthrie, Spc4. Delgado, and Pvt. Feinstein, and only one of those was truly uninjured. Four uninjured from the other squad left with them, Cpl. Jefferson, Cpl. Green, Spc4. Virtanen, and Spc4. Armstrong Yes, I do in fact have tons of saved named characters who aren't your submissions who are in the rest of the platoon. They rarely show up named though...unless something happens like this where everyone is elminated. "You guys are going to be attached to us until we can get some stuff in this region figured out" said Agent F.C., the rest of the SEAL team landed quickly and set up shop around the destruction of the church. "We've got somethings that need taking care of. We'll be seeing you...but first...just go home." he said, the final chopper touching down to take the uninjured.  As the helicopters landed at the field hospital, the men were unloaded. Lt. Surge would be rushed into surgery and die when his heart stopped beating during a thoracotomy. Cpl. Hunter would survive, but will be sent home for his injuries. His tour of duty is over. Pvt. Norfindorf and Pfc. Doren will return, though it will be quite a while. Pvt. Sanville was obviously dead. Military recovery teams would eventually recover the bodies of Pvt. Lemke, Pvt. Vinceti, and Pvt. Greenfield. Sgt. Guthrie, Spc4. Delgado, and Pvt. Feinstein sat at base. Bac didn't know how much he cried as he was finally safe. Pvt. Feinstein said nothing as he stared off into the distance, a fellow soldiers attempt to talk to him about a new book harshly rebuked, and Sgt. Guthrie played two chords before throwing his guitar aside to drown himself in a bucket of cheap beer. No wiki entry. The battle of Bong Son is now over. Wiki entries will return.  Primary Objective: Prevent the Command Post from being captured PYHRRIC VICTORY Casualties † Pvt. Lemke † Pvt. Vinceti † Pvt. Greenfield † Lt. Surge † Pvt. Sanville Pvt. Norfindorf (Gun shot wound to leg) Pfc. Doren (Various blunt trauma wounds) Cpl. Hunter (Flail chest) Top Hats Monthly fucked around with this message at 01:02 on Jul 17, 2019 |
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Jul 16, 2019 20:19
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FEBRUARY 8 1966 Lt. Surge's body lay still. The doctors had done everything they could, but his heart simply hadn't been able to take the strain. The room was quiet and empty when the strange yellow creature entered, searching for its master. It darted from body to body with uncanny speed until it finally found Surge's. It nudged him, attempting to wake him, but received no reaction. Then again, more forcefully, its cries growing increasingly pained and desperate. Tears in its eyes, unable to accept the death of its master, the creature gave a chilling cry of rage and pain. Others nearby would later report flickering lights and other strange signs of electrical interference. And then, a heartbeat. Lt. Surge opened his eyes drowsily. He remembered the battle, but it was hazy. And then... nothing. He looked at his pet. "Did you... save me, little buddy?" he asked, his voice hoarse. He looked around clumsily, seeing too many bodies he recognized. "My men..." he whispered. "I couldn't save them all." Slowly and clumsily he rose. "There's nothing here for us anymore," he said. "Come on, little buddy. We're going back to Japan."
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Jul 16, 2019 20:40
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gently caress.
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Jul 16, 2019 20:41
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Viscardus posted:FEBRUARY 8 1966 Hahahahahaha holy poo poo 
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Jul 16, 2019 20:48
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At least Hunter didn't lose any body parts vital for race car driving. 
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Jul 16, 2019 21:24
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Well, I really wish Vinceti lasted longer. So have another one for the chopping block. Faction: United States Army Name: Jeremiah Henderson Age: 18 Hometown: Farmville, Arkansas Character description: A simple man, Jeremiah looked forward to taking over his families machining business and working along side his father. Then the draft came. He wasn't going to hide, and viewed it as just another job like any other he would do for pocket change in his home town. Fortunately, his grandfather showed up before he was sent off and gave him some good advice. Unfortunately for him, seeing his normally jovial grandpa's eyes turn cold and voice stern as the steel he milled telling him "Keep your head down, and come home" would haunt him for weeks. After all, no one in the family asked old Henderson what happened in the War. And he never said a word for years after he came home.
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Jul 16, 2019 22:58
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How did Mike get out of that with barely any damage to himself 
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Jul 16, 2019 23:15
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Woohoo Purple Heart! There's a VFW post in Wisconsin that better start laying in beer now!
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Jul 16, 2019 23:50
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Well, that was about as awful as I imagined it. Good to have the LP back, Top Hats. I hope Viscardus' minor edit with Lt. Surge is canon.
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Jul 17, 2019 00:29
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Aces High posted:How did Mike get out of that with barely any damage to himself Who’s gonna tell him?
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Jul 17, 2019 01:03
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Well that could have gone better.
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Jul 17, 2019 01:23
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Top Hats Monthly posted:Who’s gonna tell him? Ah, I had a bit of trouble understanding exactly what happened in the write up
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Jul 17, 2019 02:18
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| # ? May 3, 2024 17:16 |
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My god what a terrifying result. To you men who managed to accomplish the mission despite the devastation, I salute you.
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Jul 17, 2019 04:12
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