withtheoldbreed: (war as I knew it)
[Sledge clicks on his comm and smiles a little cautiously at the camera. He's in his room - a well furnished bedroom with white walls and dark wooded furniture, all of which clashes pretty strongly with the battered combat uniform Gene's still wearing - and there's a pretty alarming pile of stockings and various stocking stuffers on his bed courtesy of all you guys.

Seriously, this is more candy and sweets and everything he's ever personally had in one place in his entire life.]


I just wanted to say thank you all for the gifts. Although I might need a little help with this one. [He holds up the CD player Ian got him.] I don't think the cable's gonna work in the outlets in here.

[They have two prongs, not three, and he's not going to just park in a common room and listen to music.

There's a pause as he puts the CD player down, and it's probably easy to see the uncertainty play out in his expression, like he's about to turn the comm off before he just goes ahead and holds up a bear wearing a pretty close adaptation of this uniform, complete with helmet. Uncertainty is still plain in his face, but there's something maybe a little wounded, too. (Not that that's anything new, really.)]


Did everyone get one of these bears?
withtheoldbreed: (the last days)
[It's been a day. Gene's showered, eaten, slept, and been told he's way behind everyone else, and he honestly has no idea what to do with that. None at all.

(Doesn't know what to do with the fact that he'd collapsed into his bed, in his room, in his house, which he hasn't seen in over a year either.)

But he's here to do a job, and it's not something he can fuck up, so he does his best to shove it all away, to remember the reason why he's here - Sniper got the Skipper - so after clocking out for a solid ten hours, he knows he's got to keep moving, get started, find ways to make this work.

Gene finds the comm on his bedside table after he's up and dressed in clean dungarees. It's more advanced and smaller than any radio he's ever seen, but he's not an idiot and it's not super complicated, so after some fiddling around and a little trial and error, he manages to click on the video feed, and... realizes he doesn't have a hell of a lot of idea what to say.

So the red headed young man in the fatigue green combat uniform looks a little wary, and tired, and maybe a little hollow around the eyes. He's still got scrapes and nicks on his face and neck, but he's clean for the first time in over a month, so really, he looks a hell of a lot better than he did yesterday.]


This is Private Eugene Sledge, United States Marine Corps. [His accent's definitely distinctly from south of the Mason-Dixon Line, even if he looks like he could be Dillon's twin brother.] The Admiral asked me to come on as a warden.

It was October of 1944 before I got here. I was with the 1st Marine Division on Peleliu. K/3/5. [He's not expecting that to mean much of anything to anyone, but he still says it because even after everything, he's still proud of his company and what they were fighting for.] I know I'm pretty far behind a lot of you. [Most of you, even, and it definitely shows in his expression how horrible that feels.

Mostly, it looks like shock.

But then it kind of filters out to be replaced by confusion and genuine interest (even if he still looks pretty dead around the eyes), because this is a problem he absolutely didn't expect encountering when he first agreed to come on board here.]


Is that gonna be a problem? I don't expect anyone to keep it all a secret from me, but- [Sledge draws a breath, like he's bracing himself for the inevitable.] I've gotta go back eventually.

[He's gotta go back to Peleliu sometime. Fuck.]

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withtheoldbreed: (Default)
E. B. Sledge

October 2024

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