rowana-renee-deactivated  asked:

How many cookies would it take to bribe you into telling me a story, Bucky? They're homemade, and any story will do.

all of them. i will tell you the story while i wait for all of the cookies.

once upon a time, a little shit decided to go fight nazis. 

usually when i start a story that way, its a steve story. but this time its a me story.

i too fought nazis, my friend, and it was not fun at all.  it turns out nazis dont like being fought, and will fight back. this caused us a great deal of stress and trenchfoot. 

as you may or may not know, my nazi fighting buddies were called the howling commandoes. we had a reputation as being ‘howling mad’ which most people assumed is where our name came from. 

it is not.

so shortly after we’d signed up as steves unit, we got sent out on a sort of breaking-in mission. it was supposed to be a pretty routine just-behind-enemy-lines gig, mostly to see how we’d do as a team. at that point, we were the first ‘integrated’ squad under american command, so they wanted to be sure we were up to snuff. basically they sent us a few miles into a relatively lightly-fortified occupied area to blow up a few supply trucks. it went pretty smoothly. we were still getting to know each other, a bit. we’d met in the hydra camp in austria and bonded pretty well there but it wasnt like we were sitting around doing icebreaker questions. so on that first mission we spent a lot of time chatting, getting a better feel for each other as people. like summer camp, but with more potential for death, and shooting of nazis, explosions, and overgrown science experiments in spangly pants. 

so maybe not like summer camp at all.  i wouldnt know, i never went to summer camp. 

anyways, we blew up the supply trucks and we were headed back towards base when we came across a nice little stream. most of us were pretty dirty, so we agreed to take a few minutes, strip down and wash up. the area we were in was supposed to be secure; it was a slightly disputed border area, but it had been safely in allied hands for months. probably it wasn’t the smartest call, but sometimes you get dirt places you never wanted dirt and are willing to literally risk death to get rid of that dirt. 

we left our gear in a little stand of trees on the far side of the stream and washed up. 

at this point, dumdum dougan was establishing his reputation as the Toughest Guy Ever, which was a rough gig when one of your squadmates is captain america, who literally walks off bullet wounds like a moron. nevertheless, dumdum had the mustache and was determined to be the manliest man around, so when the rest of us got in, clean, and back out as fast as we could manage, because the water was freezing, dumdum decided to prove how macho he was by pretending he wasnt cold at all, and the rest of us were wimps. 

naturally, the rest of us thought he was ridiculous. we were all pretty much dressed and good to go, and dumdum was still sitting in an ice-cold stream in april, bragging about how tough he was. i, being a little shit, covertly suggested we play a little prank. 

so the rest of us finished gearing up, then grabbed his things and started running. his pack, his gun, his boots…all his clothes except his hat, which was hanging off the handle of a knife he’d stuck in the tree. we knew he’d stop to get the hat, and that gave us a head start.

as soon as we started running, dumdum came out of the stream after us, and as expected, stopped to get his hat and knife. we had a decent head start, and he was yelling at the top of his lungs after us. we were all laughing our heads off, because he looked like a complete idiot, running after us brandishing a knife, in nothing but a bowler hat. 

unbeknownst to us, a nazi squad had been sneaking through the woods ahead of us, and were setting up an ambush on one of our transport trucks. they were all tucked away in the underbrush, waiting for the transport to get close enough, and had just popped out of the shrubbery and fired their first couple shots.

which was approximately when a ragtag-looking, still-wet group of cackling maniacs led by the bastard child of paul bunyan and lady liberty burst out of the treeline, being chased by an angry naked man in a bowler hat with a knife. 

there was a very long moment when everyone stopped shooting at everyone else and stared at us. 

and then everyone went back to shooting at everyone else.  but the ambush was angled to ensnare the transport coming up the road. we came from behind them, and they had pretty much no cover from our angle. as soon as we realized we’d run into a combat zone, we dropped the gear and started shooting. steve used the dinner platter of justice and cleared out about four nazis at once, and dumdum got the worlds unluckiest nazi with his knife. poor guy. there’s not a whole lot worse than your last sight on earth being a naked dumdum dougan.

 we’d unintentionally provided a perfect distraction, and the transport had time to regroup and return fire. between us, the ambush was taken care of in a few minutes. 

but the thing was, we’d broken protocol by stopping to wash up, and as a shiny new unit still on probation, the last thing we wanted was to tell anyone what had actually happened. 

so instead we told them that we’d known about the ambush and had decided to provide a distraction, and were just crazy enough that we thought the best way to do that was run howling straight into it. dumdum’s nudity was explained as a personal preference: the man just likes fighting nazis naked, sir, and you cant say it wasnt effective??

naturally, the story went everywhere and got bigger each time it was told. probably we should have gotten in tons of trouble but the story was such a morale booster that they let it slide. 

and thats why we were called the howling commandoes. 

washsicle  asked:

say there is an intergalactic war going on and humanity is facing possible extinction, would those who are on the front lines and constantly at a risk of dying still follow appearance regulations (hair length, piercings ect) if they are not actively being forced too and won't face consequences from the person who is in charge? or would they be enforced even more than standard?

Completely depends on their command. During WW2 it was common for soldiers to forgo basic army standards because for one, it was often impossible to maintain those standards, and for another, the war was so taxing that many superiors thought it was more trouble than it was worth to uphold those standards. Soldiers were often out of uniform due to necessity; they would wear boots without socks because even though it was against regulation and would result in their feet getting sores, they need to have clean dry socks to avoid trenchfoot. Greater good, things like that. Some soldiers take great pride in their personal appearance and will go to great lengths to maintain the standard even in times of hardship, so even if the standards are lax there will probably be at least a few who are still trying. 

The thing to remember is that as stupid as most military regulations are, there is some method to the madness that justifies them. Piercings can result in infections that might be difficult to treat in the field, especially if soldiers get it in their heads that if piercings are allowed then they must be allowed to give each other piercings. But jewelry is shiny and can result in giving away a position to an enemy, not to mention if someone were in hand to hand combat and they were wearing hoops it would be no trouble at all to just reach up and tear off their ear. Hair length is often a minimum length of a quarter inch to prevent sunburn on the scalp in hot environments, but short enough that the combat helmet can fit securely on their head, and facial hair is maintained such that the gas mask can fit comfortably and seal over the face. Unusual hair styles can impede with your helmet/gas mask, which could cost you your life.

So in the end it’s up to you whether or not your soldiers maintain the proper standard, but just remember that there are negative consequences that can rear their ugly heads.


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edit: I’d like to bring up a somewhat relevant trivia fact: Hitler trimmed his mustache to fit his gas mask in WW1, and he retained the infamous style the rest of his life. Introducing similar alternative styles that address things like this could give your story a lot of character.

I want Murdoc Niccals to have his heart pumping, his eyes sinister, and his blood boiling onstage
I want Murdoc Niccals to come absolutely and unapologetically alive in front of thousands of screaming fans
I want Murdoc Niccals to pump up an audience, flailing his tongue and unleashing the sickest bass solos known to mankind
I want Murdoc Niccals to be utterly enchanted by his creations, to be high off the fact that everything he ever worked for is getting the proper attention it truly deserves
I want Murdoc Niccals to forget his past traumas while onstage, his mind blank on the “trenchfoots” and the “Pinocchios”.

I want Murdoc Niccals to embrace, love, and live through his performances onstage with the satisfaction that he beat his abusers.

agenderraskel  asked:

You call Steve "punk". Have you ever slipped punk clothing into his closet? Does he wear it?

well, he absolutely refuses to wear combat boots. which i find personally offensive, because i wear steeltoe combats almost every day. but steve insists that having tromped across most of europe in steeltoes and only being saved from trenchfoot thanks to the miracle of old-timey science, he will no longer wear combat boots unless theyre the custom ones that go with his cap costume. sorry. uniform. and that since sneakers exist in the future and are, and i quote ‘like walking around with old mrs mckinneys angel cake for shoes, buck, its great’ he will not be wearing boots if he doesnt have to. 

the day we talked him into skinny jeans was pretty great. have you ever seen a dog doing that high-step when you put shoes on them?? he looked like that for the first half hour or so. and then he tried to ‘jog’ up the tower lobby steps, and split his pants open at the crotch. 

it was a good day for the ladies (and some of the gents. you know. the ones who didnt immediately grow inferiority complexes) in the lobby of stark tower. 

it was not a good day for steve rogers. 

putting steve in any kind of plaid just makes him look like a lumberjack, not a punk. so that doesnt work.

steve cant wear black without looking like a vampire, hes so pale. but one time he borrowed my dont-touch-me black leather motorcycle jacket and managed to make that look badass for a little while. and then he let a little girl in central park facepaint a sunflower on his left cheek, which pretty much spoiled and sort of badass look he might have been managing. which wasnt much, because he was still wearing khakis. 



1st of July 1916: Battle of the Somme begins 

The battle of the somme was one of the Bloodiest battles in Human history the french, British and German forces suffered around 1.2 million casualties between them. 

For nearly 2 years the western front had seen nothing but a bloody stalemate. Morale was low. The British had suffered a stunning defeat at Gallipoli. The Allies had to break through the German lines and gain some ground if they were to win the war. 

Although the somme was intended to be part of a much larger offensive where British, Russian, French and Italian armies would attack simultaneously. Much of the French army was tied up fighting then Germans who had launched a collossal offensive at Verdun in the February of that year. This meant the somme was to be fought by mostly British troops. The Battle now also had an additional objective. Relieve the French at Verdun. 

Commanded by Field Marshal Douglas Haig and French general Ferdinand foch the Allies bombarded the German lines for 7 days. The largest artillery bombardment in history. Haig was so confident he had killed all the Germans that he said the troops could “Walk over” the top. This was not the case. The shells had failed to destroy the deep underground bunkers where the germans had hidden themselves. On the 1st of July British troops walked over the top and were butchered by machine gun fire. Caught on barbed fire the shells had failed to destroy. The British witnessed the bloodiest day in their history. 19,000 dead on the first day. 

Haig continued the attack. 3 miles of land had cost them 19,000 men. The Germans were forced to redeploy troops and guns from Verdun to support those fighting at the somme. Heavy cavalry attacks by the Indian regiments and south african regiments had pushed another 3 miles into german territory. By august the Germans had suffered 250,000 casualties. 

In September the tank made its debut appearance on orders of Haig. Many broke down and only 21 reached the front. Advancing 1.5 miles. But the British infantry suffered 29,000 losses. The Germans responded by sending their planes to hamper enemy guns. But the assault on the ground was thwarted by french machine guns. 

German guns were not the only enemy of the Allies. The atrocious weather gave many troops trenchfoot and slowed supply lines. Disease spread through the trenches on both sides killing just as many as the machine gun. The French army was on breaking point and due to the sheer scale of death many french divisions mutinied. Which was harshly dealth with. 

By November winter weather had set in and the allies halter their advance. The Germans retreated to Hindenburg. The allies advanced 7 miles in 141 days.

he allies suffered a steep learning curve and realised they must change tactics to win ww1. The Media put a positive spin on the somme. “All in this together” and “the big push” making it sound like a game of sport. It was the opposite Because Haig was not the one going over the top and he wasn’t the one being murdered like cattle for 7 miles of dirt. The battle of the somme really gave meaning to the term “Lions led by donkeys”. 

“when you go home,                                                                                           tell them of us, and say.                                                                                     For your tomorrow we gave our today”

gatheringbones  asked:



  • Their battalion was once affectionately called the Woodlanders, but somewhere between the mud and the shelling, the months of boredom and reoccuring trenchfoot, someone added “murk” to their name and it stuck.
  • Lieutenant Colonel Thranduil might be known for his valor during the Second Dagorlad War, but he has a reputation among his soldiers for a short temper and having gone a little funny during his time darkest Mordor.
  • (He wears an ill-fitting tin mask over most of his face that no one–no one–mentions, not even in whispers. There were a handful of young recruits in the support company that thought it would be funny to call him “Old Tin Nose” but they were shut down very quickly by Captain Tauriel.)
  • Though neither of them are properly with the rifle regiment, Major Legolas and Captain Tauriel are the only two-man team that can handle a Vickers machine gun. There are already whispered stories about the amount of ground they can hold against the encroaching Spinne infantry.
  • Tauriel gets very quiet when they troop through the shelled-out remains of Rhovanion hamlets. The burnt-out churches and the snaking labyrinths of abandoned trenches, the gaping holes in the chalk-downs–she’s often difficult to talk to for the rest of the day.
  • When the Mirkwood battalion captures the refugees from Mont Solitaire, when their leader cries, You should have come to our defense, you should have–how were we to last against that rain of fire?  and Thranduil snarls, I had my orders.
  • Captain Tauriel leveling her rifle between her Lieutenant Colonel’s eyes, knowing that she will face court-martial, life imprisonment for mutiny and misconduct with a superior officer–knowing–
  • Afterwards, Major Legolas is sent rearward to Arnor, to support the 344th infantry; the Captain and her Lieutenant Colonel stay, gaining three feet, or losing four, in a war that never seems to end.
  • Bilbo goes back to his little cottage in the quiet, unmarred English countryside and writes:
    Now I’ve said good-bye to Galahad,  
       And am no more the knight of dreams and show:
    For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,  
       And my killed friends are with me where I go.
    Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;
        And there is absolution in my songs.

Choosing Your Hiking Boots

Picking hiking boots can be intimidating and difficult. You are constantly assaulted by bright colours, annoying salespeople, and just staggering choice. So I thought I would give you some advice on choosing the perfect boot for you, and what to do with new boots once you’ve bought them.

Let’s divide this into sections: (1) Size, (2) Purpose, (3) Taste, (4) The Only Step That Matters, (5) Boot Care, (6) Foot Care, and (7) General Tips. And for the sake of everyone, I’ll read-more this post because it became a lot longer than anticipated.

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anonymous asked:

Do you know what would be the essential things four people should carry with them for a two week trip in foot? In the 19th century, let's say. All the trip is in the mountains, and they have no way of replenish their things.

  1. Food. Pretty obvious. No perishable foods like fruits (unless they’re dried) or bread (unless it’s like hardtack) because it spoils quickly. If the characters are planning to hunt and/or trap, they need the guns/snares/ammo/etc. to do that. And if they are cooking animals on the spot, they need a cauldron if they are making stew. 
  2. Shelter. At that point in time, shelter would probably be a tent of oiled canvas. It will keep the wind, rain, and other elements off the characters while they sleep. Tents also come with an assortment of pegs, rope, and sticks essential for setup. The characters can build lean-tos or find caves to sleep in; however, they would need to know the terrain so they know where the caves are or where the trees to make the lean-tos are, etc. They would be stupid to go into unfamiliar territory without a shelter.
  3. Water. The characters may be able to melt water from snow or gather water from mountain springs. If there are no springs, then characters will need to boil water (necessitating a pot) to make it safe to drink. If there is no water whatsoever, characters will need to bring their own. The average man needs 3 L of water a day and the average woman needs 2.2 L. 1 liter of water weighs 1 kg/2.2 lbs. 
  4. Clothes. Clothes for all weather - rain gear, cold weather, warm weather, damp weather, intermediate weather - and terrain - woodland, desert, rocky paths, glaciers - that the character will encounter. The character will probably have 1-3 complete changes of clothes to keep the weight down; the rest will be emergency gear like a rain jacket. Most importantly, the character needs a good set of shoes. The character also needs many pairs of socks because damp socks will give you trenchfoot.
  5. Other useful items. Compass, salt, several knives with whetstones, ice pick, extra rope, map, small mirror, matches/other fire starters, lanterns, razor, medicine, bandages, walking stick.
me, sending my son jinjin off to smtm5 war

me: here’s a snakpak if u get hungry also here r some crutches for when u get trenchfoot cant wait 2 root 4 u i promise ill lov u even when the other boys step on u

jinjin: ????????? who r u

anonymous asked:

Hello! I was wondering if there were resources on what living in the wild for several months does to a body. (Like, what kind of problem appears first, what kind of desease you could get from the lack of certain nutriments,...) Thank you!

Generally, you’re looking at a weight loss (+10 lbs.) because they would need to expend energy to find food and the food itself would be less filling. Depending on where they are, they could also be suffering from dehydration. (If this problem continues, they would likely die in a few days.)

Fruits and vegetables are usually a seasonal event, so your traveler had better hope there is some source of vitamin C nearby. If they are in the Arctic, they could hunt and kill (assuming they have the tools) seals, because seal blubber is high in vitamin C. A vitamin C deficiency leads to scurvy.

Another issue is salt deficiency. I didn’t find hard data on how long it would take for someone to die of salt deficiency, but since I’ve never heard of anyone dying of salt deficiency, I assume it’s weeks or months. Look here for signs of salt deficiency.

Your traveler should be very careful about engaging in potentially harmful activities. An untreated wound in the middle of nowhere would probably give them gangrene, which is usually fatal.

Environmental concerns vary by location. A sunny location might give them horrible sunburn. A cold and dry location might give them dry and chapped skin. Walking around in damp and hot environments will give you trenchfoot. Also, your character - unless it’s winter - will be subject to a host of biting insects, some of which carry disease.

The last big concern is water. Drinking unfiltered water in most places is like playing Russian roulette. There’s a chance you’ll drink the water and go on your merry way. There’s also a chance that you’ll contract a brain eating amoeba or giardiasis. (The exception is spring water or glacial runoff, which is usually safe to drink without a filter.) If the traveler wants to be 100% sure that they will not die of some waterborne disease (of which there are many), they need a fire and a container to boil water in. I’ll leave the procurement of that up to you.

Read the survival tag for more.

darling, it's only thunder

(Note: Anxiety attack occurs during this. Please be warned.)

Title: darling, it’s only thunder
Word Count: 2892
Pair: FrUK
Alternately, on AO3

It had only ever been French land, really, that was torn up by the Germans. While there were some skirmishes on Germany’s side, and some fights in Belgian territory, most battles–nearing 95%–had taken place in France. 

(One hundred years later, he was still finding old shells in the land. There had been risks, for years, of farmers plowing over a mine that had never gone off during the war.)

By population, 4.3% of him had been killed. Of the allies, he’d provided a fourth of the casualties. 

Francis Bonnefoy, to put it midly, had hated the Great War.

And, no, he hadn’t felt more than a dull ache on him during the battles (always on his eastern side, on the border of him, Germany, and Belguim), but he knew what it represented, knew that his men were dying, knew that he would have lost his foot to trenchfoot if he wasn’t a Nation, knew that cannon fire could have killed him, blowing a hole that size in his belly.  No matter the wound, no matter the representative part of him that was prickling, aching, during the war, he hadn’t been too affected. More than anything, they were mild nuisances in trying to hold his gun steady.

Even the more drastic wounds, the ones that had left scars to this day, a century old, some of them, had been a bearable sort of pain–the sort Nations always ended up getting at some point or another.

And Francis, France, could deal with pain. Nations could all deal with pain. It was practically what they were designed for, to feel the pain of their people and work to make their people comfortable instead–later, to voice the pains of the people to the government, who listened to them sometimes. No, what had bothered him most, more than the wounds he was getting but not keeping, more than the aches he was feeling but not responsible for, was the noise. 

The noise.

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