Utterly Mad

Before we get onto anything rules and expectations
Rules
1: GM's say is last say
2: Try to play nice
3: If you are going to have your character flip out, PM me, or better yet let everyone in on it. Having a character flip out for any reason can cause a shitestorm

Expectations
1: One to two four sentence paragraphs per post minimum
2: This is war, but your fresh faces for the most part, so lets try and show some character development
3: If you see something that you think is questionable for the RP (other then obvious things that should get reported such as adult content) PM me and for the love of god let me handle the situation. Refer to Rule one if you feel the need to question this.


You do not need a character sheet, just provide a name, gear should be revealed through character actions/in RP description, as should character appearance, clothes are standard uniforms. If you have questions as to what is appropriate PM me or look up WW1 era weapons. We aren't going to use exacts but WW1 weapons and technologies are where this is going to be set.
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The truck took you through an abandoned town that had obviously suffered from mortar and artillery fire. The other new recruits seemed to have occupied themselves with memorizing serial numbers of rifles and dog tags, attempting to ignore the scene of destruction. As you pass a small house you spot a large collection of crosses planted into the ground, marking the places of the dead. Inside the collection of crosses you spot several soldiers digging a hole for yet another coffin.
The truck was swerving almost constantly to avoid mortar holes, making the ride even more bumpy along the already pot hole ridden road. The driver could be heard muttering and cursing as the truck wound it's way down the road towards your post. The driver's beard conveyed the fact he'd been doing this job for far too long for him, being longer then what was technically allowed and unkempt. The bags under his eyes also told you at a glance that he had been awake for days on end without sleep.
The man in the passenger seat sighed and pulled out a cigarette box from his pocket, offering one to the driver before whom accepted the offered smoke. The two lit up and seemed to be making an active effort to calm down, though obviously to no avail. The passenger looked over his shoulder and said "Should only be a half hour 'fore we got you boys to your posts." in his thick southern accent. Off in the distance you could hear gun fire and explosions.

((You can have pretty much whatever so long as it fits into the that era's weapons. And your not trying to hip fire a machine gun.)

Specialist Ryan Gosling ran to the trench, jumping in as fast as he could. His slightly dirty young face grimaces as he takes position, his brown eyes having seen the horrors of war. He checks his gas mask and chambers his pistol. Ryan does a final check of his gear and fully loads his Winchester M1897 Trench Gun before settling in to wait.

When the gunfire started, Private George Graham realized that enlisting into the military was probably not a good idea, as he initially thought. While bullets were flying over his head, Graham, in a state of shock, tried to remember what led him to join the army while nervously looking around with his dark green eyes. Was it because he wanted to bring glory to his family, just like his father always wanted? Or maybe it was all due to those war tales he's heard about when he was a child? Or maybe both?

Before he could come up with an answer, Graham snapped back out of his catatonic state when one of the enemy bullets flew inches away from his left ear. "****!" George cursed while he involuntarily hit the ground. A few moments later, he hesitantly moved to his crouching position and breathed deeply. If he wanted to get out of this hell alive, he needed to focus; panicking or hiding like a coward would only lead him closer to his demise. Graham slowly regained his courage and then, with a last deep breath, he leaned from cover, took aim with his Enfield 1914, and pulled the trigger. He watched as the enemy's lifeless body fell to the muddy ground, completely ignored by his passing-by colleagues, and then prepared himself for the next shot.

You whittled down the onrushing group of enemies to only a handful of men who began retreating. The enemy wounded lay on the ground screaming and begging for help as your allies sat in the trench and watched, taking shots at the retreating enemies. One of the men shouted "Okay, replace your spent ammo and get ready for another charge. And for the love of god make sure your masks are ready for use."
The men began moving the ammo crates or checking their gear, none of them seeming to even hear the screams from the enemy soldiers. The machine gunners started reloading their guns while their was a break in the combat. You could see the commander of this section of the trench on his field radio, seeming concerned about something.