Writing Chapter 1:

MrGatr

Goin Rogue Baby :DDD
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Chapter 1:
Humble Bread

Chapter 1:
Humble Bread

The sun began to rise, and Jarrod could feel the warmth on his skin. Slowly waking up, he rolled over to his left, noticing that the town was already busy. Grabbing a yellow stained white T-Shirt, he threw it on quickly. He opened the front door, and stepped out onto the streets of the bustling militia workers.

“What the hell had Joseph commanded the militia to do this time?” Jarrod thought to himself. “Had he taken it upon himself to call the shots, last I heard Danny wouldn’t let anything happen at the moment. Too much tension between the British, and us.”

Jarrod walked over to the commander’s tent and quickly barged in. “What the hell Joseph!” he said, sounding quite aggravated.

“Oh dear brother Jarrod, hasn’t Danny told you? She’s ordered us out of this forsaken place. We have no business, we haven’t seen the British in over three months now. The men need action” Replied Joseph with a slight laugh.

Leaving the tent, Jarrod grabbed a rifle off the desk next to two kids planning their route with a map. The bustling zone was crazy, humvee’s were everywhere, and soldiers were loading up. Walking back into his barracks, he pulled out his pistol, talking large strides down the hall to a large room labeled “236C Commander Jarrod Barton-Sky” He stepped to the center of the room, aimed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger.

Thirty-Two men poured out of bed onto the floor. “Stand up you big bunch of panzie’s, we are moving out today, get ready get packed.” Said Jarrod in a commander like voice “and you Private Whitman!” He said sarcastically “give Ms.Piggy a kiss for us.”

The entire room busted up laughing, and Whitman just blushed. Ever since he got caught at a bar with a pig farmer’s daughter he was the laughing stalk of the group. He knew it was all a joke and the platoon really did enjoy her company, long days of relaxing in the sun, and longer nights of playing card games. She usually was there against the will of her father.

“I expect every one of you ready to go in thirty minutes, starting now!” Jarrod said with a slight chuckle still from the Ms.Piggy joke.

Jarrod walked out and jumped into a humvee. Driving down muddy roads towards the jungle, he had some business to take care of with a villager. The jungle was thick, and he always had his foot on the brakes, just in case something ran in front of him. He came up over a hill, and saw the villagers running around, soldiers receiving gifts. He noticed Allisia Bar, sitting alone next to the road just ahead. He stopped the car a few feet from her, and jumped out.

“Hey, we have to go now, you take care Rosthmath, and Jenna will you?” he said in a sad tone.

“What kinda question is that, ever since you brought those kids to my door step, I’ve loved them like family” Allisia said with tears in her eyes. She gave Jarrod a hug, and handed him a basket full of bread.

Jarrod took it, because it was customary to receive the gifts people have given you with honor. He gave her the rifle he had token, she knew exactly what it was for, protecting the kids. Three weeks ago, Jarrod found these two kids on the street, their parents had been killed in the war, and Jarrod felt bad. He wrapped them up in nice clothes, and gave them to an old family friend.

When Jarrod arrived back at camp, his men had 13 humvee’s loaded, and everyone was ready to go. He parked the one he had near another barracks.

“Yo guys, Allisia says goodbye, and she wants you guys to feast.” He said calmy, tossing the basket towards his men.

Jarrod walked over to the navigator tent. He got the route information, and the departure time for his platoon. He got into the back seat of the front humvee, and told Colonel Williams to head off to the village we were supposed to be on our way out of this mud, and heading towards the northern deserts.

“Hey Commander?” said a calm soft voice from outside.

“How may I help you young lady?” He said to a girl that looked to be about 10 years old.

“Tell my dad not to get himself killed out there ok?” She said.

“Roger that” he said back, and shook the girls hand.

The humvee pulled off onto the muddy hill, and the group began to move towards the northern roads. The newer humvee’s that the USA had donated to this cause were nice. They sat 6 people, two in front, two on the back of those chairs facing towards the rear, and two in the rear seats. They also had a nice 50 cal. machine gun up top, with a standing spot in between the front seats. There was also a table in the center of the rear seats.

“Let’s get this party started shall we gentlemen?” Said Jarrod, reaching backwards, and pushing the CD into the player. He also pulled out a deck of cards. “ $5 on me winning this first hand.” He said comically.

The group began to play cards, as they drove through the dense brush, and thick paste-like mud. Once they came up upon the rest of the group, they sat and waited for the go over the radio to continue north into the British territory.

“Screw you Miller!” Said Whitman in the back seat as he threw down a hand that lost to Private Miller by one point, the group laughed. They had been playing a game that the people had taught them. They called it ‘trompette’ which translated to Trumpet. An old card game that was popular back in the 80’s in America. They didn’t have the money for a board or the pieces so they just played it with points.

Static suddenly came over the radio “We’re clear roads are safe!”

The group moved out of rut of the dirt road, and drove up the road with the other 36,000 men fighting for freedom. Jarrod, threw down a complete hand of the winning cards, and took the money sitting in the middle of the table.

“Now fork over those bills ladies.” He said laughing. His men were not amused. The navigator threw back his hand full of terrible cards and handed back his money.

“Why do I always get the crappy cards?” He said confused, and then looked at Whitman who was trying not to laugh. He punched him, and took his money back. “Screw you all!”

The humvee continued on its path towards a new barracks.
 
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