Situation Foxtrot (SAO/Foxhole) [COMPLETE]

I still remember the beginning of this 'new life'.
The tutorial island, suppressing partisans, getting shot at, it was certainly something, losing at least 50 people in a short amount of time.
Granted, they weren't really dead, but still, that put me away of the front-line for a while.

The first two weeks spent collecting scrap weren't bad per se, the people weren't complete pricks, the work wasn't terrible. The problem was space.
The cities that were available would barely hold 10% of the players currently living in them. You'd either sleep on top of three other people, or have others sleep on top of you. And that's on a good day and place.

Of course, one could always apply for the Logistics Union, join one of the Logi Runners, but that meant sleeping on the truck, and power naps can only carry you so far. Still, the third week was spent carrying supplies, either ammo, materials, or even just people.

I wasn't keen on joining a group just yet, or regiment as they called them, though the naming made no sense, the groups had 150 people tops, a Company at best. Still I managed to get hold of a truck to make runs from time to time, it wasn't much, but it was honest work.

When the message from the Bureau came in, that the last 'Home-front' zone had been captured, morale soared, or at least, as much as possible, some celebrating the end of this death game, others simply glad to be alive, while a few were sceptical(Me included).

Sure, I wasn't happy to be proven right; seeing the map on the truck station near The Filament expand so much, hearing about how close to two hundred people weren't coming back to life, it was a shock to everyone. Some took a full day to get back to the road.

The rest of the time was spent running supply for a QRF force based near Camp Hollow, the 68th​ Uhlans, a mostly female unit, I even managed to get some firing lessons from them. Though I never actually joined their company (most of their members seemed to refuse calling their unit a Regiment due to it's size), you did fight alongside them quite a few times.
Granted it was more them coming in to save me from partisans, but details aren't important.

Then, one day, resting after having delivered supplies to the 68th​, I heard about it, the few guys with them speaking about an offensive plan, excitement in their voices.
The Union was preparing for a push into the Nevish Line, the first step towards liberation, they called for volunteers, Logistics, Infantry, QRF, only those in Regiments would be allowed into the front-line.

Apparently the 68th​ had entered as the QRF force, and even though they weren't opposed to me joining them, I decided against it. Even the Logistics Units would have been a good choice, but also chosen against (Apparently the 72nd​ and 73rd​.if scuttlebutt could be trusted, not that I know about them, but knowing who will be there is good.)

The decision was made to join the 75th​ Infantry. Granted, I wanted to join an Infantry unit, but joining one on the Eve of an offensive? It wasn't a good idea, especially if you had no idea still how most mechanics of this game worked. Sure, you'd heard about bunker bases and the B-Mats you transported, but how it all worked exactly? No idea. Infantry advances on this game seemed to be pretty different from your previous adventures with ARMA units.

But still, the guys from the 68th​ wanted to join the front-line, and the 62nd​ and 64th​ were set up on the northern side, too far from the 68th​'s base, their choice being between the 68th​, 71st​ and the 75th​, you followed them to their choice, picked simply for being the closest to their unit.

First of all, the lack of air-force, but this was early game, so not even light armour or even mortars were available apparently, put a big wrench to every attacking force, secondly, this was still your first experience with this game, your knowledge of it was primitive at best.

Still, the choice had been made, and the request to join the 75th​ had been accepted. After some pondering, the decision was made to leave my truck with the 68th​, since it was a Union truck left with a Union Unit, there should be no problems about it, they'd take good care of the old Opel.

The 75th​ was about to be my first Company/Regiment, their staging grounds positioned to the South-West of the Ire, at Callum's Cape, we made our way there.

Now let's hope they actually provide training.

To say the 75th​'s designed area was full of activity would not it justice. Throwing a piece of chocolate at an anthill would cause less activity.

Trucks would arrive and leave in less than a minute, disgorging men or materials and leaving to bring more, soldiers ran all round, working the bunker sections, digging defences outside the perimeter, or, in our case, leading the new recruits inside.

The man couldn't be older than 18, but the way he carried himself made it clear this wasn't his first time doing this, and the Sergeant stripes on his arm give anyone some extra command and respect. We were rushed into the complex, the people from the 68th​ and I, given a brand new No. 2 in my case, and assigned to a squad working on the base.

As luck would have it, or not, depending on your point of view, I was volunteered by one of my colleagues for supply runs.

"He always ran some for us back at the 75th​." Said one, "sure we had to save his ass from time to time, but he was always efficient." The Sergeant turned to me.

"That true?" I nod. "Alright then grab your truck and give us a hand here, we need more wheels carrying the B-Mats for the FOBs." He said, moving towards the outside again.

"I left the truck back with the 68th​ though." He didn't look back nor stop.

"Minor setback, just hitch a ride on the next truck out then, come, let's do this quick." He waved his hands to the outside, a quick one-finger salute to my 'friends' and off I went, after the sergeant.

Passing through the base to the truck drop-off point, I was simply proven right as to how often this specific man was working, he barked orders to soldiers slacking off, or apparently taking a brief reprieve considering how much stuff there appeared to need to be done, people would approach him for new orders or to report something, arriving at the drop-off point, he'd update his notebook, verifying supplies and such I imagine. Even the truck drivers and unloaders seemed to have barely stopped.

"How short-staffed are you?"

"The last of our personnel got stuck at either Callum's Keep or The King, we're gathering them in specific points, if you're volunteering to help, ferry the men, not the materials, that should give us a good start. After you're done with that, join the others in moving the supplies, there's still some to be delivered." I nod, at least I'd be useful for something. A driver was quickly flagged down and ordered to ferry me to the 68th​, not happy to be deviating from his original path, though that changed when she learned I was to be another driver.

I'd barely gotten inside the truck before she started driving, and barely 2 seconds after we were moving she spoke. "Now listen up, We're gathering everyone Southwest of the Gunwall, just south of the components zone, go there, grab our people, ferry them back, repeat, got it? Good." Simple enough I think.

"Partisan activity?"

"Barely any, or at least we haven't met any significant ones yet, the QRF is keeping the lines clear for now." And that was that, she didn't seem to enthused on talking, and I wasn't that good at it anyway.

A couple of potholes (Why and who the fuck designed these remains a mystery) and dangerously high speed turns we arrived at the QRF base, chaotic, but nowhere near the 68th​ FOB, patrols were coming and going, crates were being unloaded, but the chaos here was almost organized. I was left outside their perimeter with a shout of good luck and the truck's tires screeching as it raced away.

The trek through the base was fast, it wasn't that big for starters, and the mostly Japanese mostly female base knew some basic English to give me directions, plus I'd been here a few times already, finding where exactly the truck was was easy, getting it out however, took some talking. Apparently, they were running patrols and escorts at almost every possible second, and another truck may be necessary for them to properly do their job, still, with a few arguments of the 72nd​'s need for the truck, and a promise to bring it back and leave it with them until the operation's end once we didn't need it anymore, I was on the road and on my way to the bus-stop, or truck-stop, considering no buses were available yet.

The travel time between the pick-up and drop-off point wasn't that long, but the amount of manpower and resources was staggering, plus, carrying 5 people every time, even with the other trucks, we took a good 4 hours to grab everything we would need for the moment. That done, the truck was sent back to the QRF, and training officially began.

Now, I say that, but it was mostly shooting practice, small squad tactics, and communications, stuff you'd know if you already had played any Tactical FPS games, though shooting the gun yourself is very different from that, obviously. Still, my basic knowledge gave me the dubious honour of being named corporal, even if the rank didn't amount to much, people would be a tiny bit more inclined to listen to whatever I told them.

I was assigned to who was essentially a Quartermaster, though this was mainly due to my 'worked with logi before' experience, now, I don't actually know his name, but he was the one who got me to drive the truck, and was in charge of checking all the deliveries from the 73rd​ Supply, the ones in charge of supplying our side of the river.

It's been a full day since I arrived here, I've barely slept, it's still 1400, and we are being pressured to work faster, something about being out of schedule the Sergeant says. But that doesn't make sense, the call to arms came about a week or two ago, they should've had everything ready, or at least most of it.

I finished my counting of the supplies and gave to the Sarge, who double then triple checked it, had me do the same, and after checking the results again, cursed, and moved to find the nearest radio, while asking me to check all the deliveries yet again. Problems with manpower we can solve, good training, planning and tactics, but problems with Logistics? Those are not so easily solved, and if that is the case...

We're in some deep shit.

I'll try to have two characters, the one in these stories, which is basically a self-insert (Though not to worry, the dice will decide my fate), and a second one leading the QRF, who will not use first person, so I can have two ways to see this story from.
With that out of the way, let me just say, I spent far too long looking at stuff and thinking, "maybe I should've written less" or "Probably missing some things", and even the good old "This is not good at all but I can't figure out a way to make it better". So this is what you're left with.
Any suggestions or thoughts be free to send me, reviews help me become less shit. As long as the suggestion isn't "Stop writing" of course.