#rvburgin-rpg

[yellow-jaundice]

"Why in the world did I bring you, of all people, to meet Florence. Oh god, she'll never speak to me again. Fuck, can I like bribe you in to become someone decent? I could pay you money to act like Sledge, just this once"

"I dunno Burgie, I heard she once whooped the shit outta the social science professor for bein' a fuckin idiot, I think me 'nd her are gonna get along just fine" 

[yellow-jaundice]

rvburgin-rpg

"The fucks to ouah eleven wouldn’t hit a barn if they tried, Snaf" Burgin scoffed and shuffled over back next to Snafu. "But you make one hell ‘uvva point there" he added as he scrutinized the movements in the foxhole nearby; their mumbling to loud, movements too obvious and the clanking of their water canteens rang like dinner bells. "Right. Leave it to the schmucks at eleven" he agreed and nested back against their wall of dirt. After what seemed an eternity bullets rang out in the night, filling the  tropical silence with the shrill sound gunfire. "I think I’ll keep ma eyes open for a little longa’ though, someone’s gotta watch’em lines" Burgin mumbled, nesting his rifle close to him. 

Snafu watched with drooping eyelids as the silhouettes stumbled and fell as a result of the gunfire that sounded like it was a hundred miles away. For a second Snafu wondered just when he had stopped reacting to the sounds of explosions and gunfire, as long as he knew it wasn't aimed at him he barely even registered it. The fumbling morons at their eleven ought to get shot soon enough, considering the fact that it was three replacements in one foxhole. Now wasn't that just the start of a terribly terrifying joke to save for the new bunch that'd arrive sooner or later.  Figuring all of it was pretty much an idiot thing to think about he quickly put it out of his mind and glanced over at Burgin instead."The day I let you watch the line on your own is the day we all meet the guy upstairs" Snafu grinned slightly and slid a cigarette between his lips.

[damnedislandsarchrive]

I suppose I should get to know how the other half lives. Never spoke to a man from the other side. How was it over there?

Wouldn’t exactly harm hearin’ from another soldier. It was amazing, who wouldn’t want your ass shot at in a pacific paradise of exotic diseases ‘nd maggots? I’ve heard some pretty nasty things about them Krauts too, though. Was it as bad as some of the guys says? 

[damnedislandsarchrive]

Don sat on the ground, tapping a pencil on his chin. They had just been informed that they'd be corresponding with the boys fighting in the Pacific and vice versa. When it was his turn to draw, the name R.V. Burgin was scrawled messily on the piece of paper. He sighed and began to write. "Dear R.V. Burgin,...How are you holding up on those godforsaken islands? You givin' the enemy hell?" He knew it was a pathetic start, but he honestly didn't know what to tell the man. Next one'll be better.

They had informed Burgin that they’d be expecting a letter from the 101 airborne, at first he was skeptical but the fact was that letters from home were few, pretty torn and where more often than not, lost in transport. So after he had thought on the idea for a while, he found himself looking forward to the arrival of the letter. Reading the letter, he could feel bubbles rise in his chest. What would he write? What if he goofed entirely? Burgin moved the pen to the empty sheet of paper and took a breath. He would just write whatever he felt like, this guy was just another soldier, and he would know exactly what Burgin was saying. It wasn’t like corresponding with your ma’ back home, this was someone just like you. “Dear Donald Malarkey. Holdin up pretty well as for now, granted some new distraction. Guess got you to thank for that. We givin the enemy hell, the enemy giving us hell and the islands are fucking us both over. How things in Europe? The Krauts givin y’all a nice welcome?” Burgin leaned back and put his pen down next to the folded paper. That’ll have to do for now.