Fort Lannigan, New Mexico - Earth
1300 hours - June, 2180
Temperature – 110 degrees Fahrenheit
”You fuckers done shit yer spill in a nothin’!” Morse yelled. ”Next line up!”
Corporal A. Morse stood in full battle gear and helmet looking at a group of relatively new recruits. The unit was comprised of soldiers that had made it all the way through basic training and a few had even seen combat. Some were familiar with the M56 Smartgun and rated to use it, while others had only gone through the course to fully understand the M41A Pulse Rifle. Here however they were being trained to use something new, that none of them had a very firm grasp on.
The M41A-E2, the recently developed suppression weapon, was in every marine’s hand. They had been studying them for a few days, and this was the most recent group to actually have their hands on them. Morse however was the only one among them who had actually utilized the weapon in numerous combat situations. He knew the weapon inside and out, how to use it, but most importantly he knew how to use it effectively.
Most of the recruits had a basic understanding of the weapons they were trained on, but they didn’t have the years that Morse had. So even though he wasn’t much higher rank then them, he was the perfect man for this job. Morse had a drill instructors attitude, which may have been caused by his distaste for the way things were done in the Corps as it was. Whatever the reason, in the heat they were in, it was a good simulation for adverse conditions.
”You done heard me talkin’ at-chu. Move up on it!” Morse yelled again, as the new line got to the targeting positions too slow. When they finally got up he continued. ”B squads scorin’ 273 points… That’s shit! You dumb fuckers figure on slippin’ like slaberfungs out n’ combat there you aint doin the suppressin’, you’re the fuckers whats suppressed.” He continued. He had his own M41A-E2 in his hand, and he walked over behind the squad on the line. ”Now C squad.” He said addressing the new line. ”You better get 500 or up yer gonna be the tickers a targets next round.”
Morse moved back to the side, the trainees all standing ready at the targeting line ready to advance through the exercise. ”Ready!” Morse yelled out. ”Fire it up!”
All at once the marines ran forward into the training course. It had obstacles of debris, dunes, and trenches which they had to move through while targets popped out at them. There job wasn’t to hit all of the targets, but to at least engage as many as possible to keep them thoroughly suppressed. The firing began immediately, and they ran through the course.
Morse could already see them messing up. Some were holding the weapon too tight, as though it was a rifle, while others held it too stretched out like a smartgun. But without the harness of a smartgun they wouldn’t have the accuracy. And not one of them deployed the bi-pod to suppress the targets that way. The other two squads there could see Morse’s lack of pleasure with the current line.
Several minutes later the drill was over. Morse looked at the tally score, and it was 249.
”Fuck damn.” Morse said. The line returned to him and they knew they were about to get lit up. ”Aint none you fuckers seem to be gettin’ this.” Morse started walking in front of the lines. ”You!” He said pointing at one of the soldiers. ”This aint no fuckin’ guns-so smart you don’t do nothin’!” He said commenting on how he seemed to use it like a smartgun. ”You hold it in!” He looked at the others then. ”Rest a you keep to tight, like yer holdin’ moma’s new heart pills whats gonna offset death in a bullside minute.”
Most of the group didn’t seem to have any idea what Morse was saying, but that didn’t matter to him. ”You hold it like this!” He showed them the proper way to hold it just above the waistline. ”And if yer stickin’ to a shove box” He was referring to cover. ”You stick out bi-pod” He flipped his down quickly. ”Aint hard, but you dumb fucks sure make it look it.” Morse started laughing after he said the last bit. ”Alls I gotta say is almighty whats on above help the corps.” He held his hands up like a mock prayer.
”But fuck it, lets see what yall’s got together.” Morse said stepping to the side again. ”Alls n’ all, on the line.” He said directing all squads forward. ”Fuckers better get good fast, or Ima have you be the targets n’ I’ll play it with live fire.” The group still barely understood him but moved to the line regardless.
”Alls ready!” Morse called out.
”Fire it up!” Morse ordered, and he watched the whole group move out and continue to disappoint him.
Morse's School For the E2 Challenged
Morse's School For the E2 Challenged
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-3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
- DEVIL DAWG
- M41A Pulse Rifle - M4 Pistol - Med Kit
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