Roll to Dodge Vietnam - Gameplay Thread Thread - Red Alert 3 Paradox mod for C&C: Red Alert 3

ProudAmerikan : Sergeant, Rifleman
Gregster : Corperal, Rifleman
Psychotic Loner : Private, Radio Operator
Tayya : Private, Medic
Blood-Russia : Private, Pigman
Galgus : Private, Blooper
acook10 : Private, Rifleman

Basic Equiptment
Everyone is equipped with a flak jacket and helmet, webbing belt, fragmentation grenades, a tear gas grenade, a smoke grenade, an entrenching tool, a backpack, combat boots, a nonreflective watch, a penknife, a combat knife, a week of field rations, three canteens of water, bandages, painkillers, a rain-proof poncho/blanket, a phrasebook, and a single set of personal items (playing cards, political buttons, picture of sweetheart, book, etc)

Rank Rules

As a Sergeant, your authority is absolute within your squad. Officers look to you to cement their authority, and on the field your word is law. You get a +1 for intimidating or using your authority to compell others. You carry an additional sidearm and a copy of the map.

As a Corperal, your role is to support the senior NCOs, smoothing the wheels or the chain of command. You get a +1 to dealing with supply officers or senior authorities. You carry the squad's supply of coloured smoke grenades.

As a Private, you are forced to trust your squadmates and superiors, which makes it much easier to focus on the task at hand. You get a +1 whenever you attempt a cooperative action.

Class Rules

As a Radio Operator, you specialise in communication and intrepretation as well as state of the art electronics. When trying to get your point across, be it to your superiors, to artillery targeters, or to locals, you get a +1. Likewise, you get a +1 when working with electronics. You carry the squad radio and a copy of the map, an MX-15 with ammunition, and a spectrum designator for artillery call-in.

As a Medic, you specialise in medical care and biology. You get a +1 to medical diagnosis and treatment. You carry additional medical equiptment and a Remington 870 shotgun with ammunition.

As a Blooper, you specialise in demolition. You get +1 to checks involving explosives, demolition, grenades or defusing. You carry a pistol, a single-shot grenade launcher, and tear gas, fragmentation and flechette grenades.

As a Pigman. you specialise in protecting your squadmates by suppressing your enemy. To do so, you carry a massive amount of equipment, which requires considerable physical strength. You get +1 to any action involving physical strength. You carry an MG60 squad machinegun and ammunition belts.

As a Rifleman. you don't specialise, to your advantage. You get a +1 combat action in general. You carry an MX-15 with ammuntion and additional fragmentation grenades (making it less likely that a bad grenade roll will be "out of grenades")

May 3rd, 1969
Con Thien Base, Quảng Trị Province

Con Thien is the farthest forward Allied base in Vietnam. A sprawling complex thrown up from SPAM modules in the middle of a jungle cleared with isospinners and sitting right inside the former DMZ, it serves as a staging point for Peacekeepers or ARVN units pushing north to disrupt NVA activity. Raids and artillery strikes from northern positions or NVC (Northern Vietcong, NVA units acting as guerrilas and liasons to the better known southern VC) smuggled artillery from all other directions are common. The media has dubbed it the worst posting in Vietnam.

It's also your home for the time being.

Despite the PK and Ranger presence, Con Thien is manned primarily by American Reservists such as yourselves. The reservists own this base; everyone else are just visitors. And there are rumours going around that Col. Ferrando, the local commander, is tired of the locals and the "glory boys" getting all the medals and action, leaving his reservists little more than functionaries. Your company captain, Captain McGraw, a man known amoung the troops for his extensive incompetience and amoung the officers for his strict adherence to protocol, agrees with the assessment and has been volunteering members of the company for missions outside the base. The last one resulted in half of second platoon's A-team coming back in bags. So when your squad, the platoon's B-team, gets called down for a briefing, you already know it's not going to be good.

The Gunnery Sergeant is already standing by when you arrive in the briefing tent. You snap to attention in line with everyone else. Gunny is a new transfer to the unit, rumoured to have been a member of the Peacekeepers during the early days of WW3. He gives your squad a glare that could probably kill a VC at twenty five meters.

"Surprise inspection! The Colonel won't have his soldiers going out looking like ragamuffins! Now, sound off!"

(Name, rank, and serial number, maggots! Well, and give me a line or two of background and lemme know what, if any, personal items you have.)

Edited by: open_sketchbook

Private Erik Holden. #74-281-607. Squad Machinegunner. 6' 4" 210lbs

Born Minneapolis, Minesotta in 1947. Willingly joined the Allied Reservists after the third war ended, hoping to end up as a peacekeeper doing humanitarian aid in 3rd world countries. Instead ending up in Vietnam, he grudgingly does his duties in the hope of being promoted out of Vietnam eventually. Has a Bible and a picture of his parents and younger siblings.

Edited by: Blood-Russia-Mk2

Private Jack Cannes. #42-115-117. Rifleman. 5'9" 165lbs.

Born in NYC, New York in 1943, Jack signed up for the Allied Reserves, hoping to stay in his hometown while still getting a piece of the action. Fought in WW3, and was promoted to Corporal 7 times for bravery before being demoted again for recklessness and talking back to superior officers. The punishment was being shipped to Vietnam. Is good with a rifle. He carries a picture of his sweetheart and a Soviet revolver bullet extracted from his leg in his breast pocket.

(hope this is good)

Edited by: acook10

Private Jim Tanner. #53-161-238. Blooper. 6' 0" 195lbs

Born in Berkeley, California in 1946. Was drafted into the Reserves ironically after protesting it. He went to a protest of the draft with other hippies, who planned to have a demonstration before dodging the draft by driving to Mexico. However, he passed out after too much smoking, and everyone else was too high to notice: so when he woke up, he was in a reservist barracks. Perhaps by some natural aptitude and perhaps by dumb luck, he proved to be a skilled demolitions man in training, and so was assigned the role of a blooper. His history of living as a hippy has taken a toll on his brain cells, giving him a somewhat detached perception on things and a slow-working mind. He still doesn't like the war, but he pretty much just does what he gets told to do: which is fine by his officers. He has a bandanna with a peace sign on it- which he wears whenever possible.

(As usual, I have no idea what I am doing in this RP. Lets hope this works.)

Edited by: Galgus

Corperal John Fredericks. #06-442-076. Squad co-leader. 5'11" 180 lbs.
Born in Los Angeles, California in 1944. Originally signed up for the Peacekeepers, but was rejected. Instead joined Reservists to get some action. Has already served one tour in Europe where was promoted to Colonel after previous one was killed. Now deployed in Vietnam and is seeking a good fight. Always carries a bullet casing necklace and an American flag (a small one)

Edited by: gregester

Sergeant Fernando Gonzalvo Baez. #28-143-597. Squad Captain, Rifleman. 5'7 158 lbs.

Born in Loreto, Mexico in 1941. Learned rough soldiering skills from veterans vacationing after World War 2, signed up for the Reservists in 1962. Was stationed in the West Coast at time of Imperial Invasion, part of resistance forces that kept fighting up until the end of World War 3. Volunteered to fight in Vietnam out of gratitude for the Allies. Carries a spent bullet shell with his name carved in it, and a Imperial saber won as a trophy from resistance fighting in California.

Private Jennifer Carsten. #12-545-089. Squad Radioman. 6'1" 198lbs

Born in Millford, Connecticut, Patrica joined simply to get a better chance to attend college, assuming she'd spend her days never leaving the continent. Instead she was shipped to Vietnam. This is her first campaign, but she's been in enough fire fights to not get the squad in trouble. She was chosen as the radio operator due to her voice being clearer than her squadmates. Is trying to learn Vietnamese to better communicate with ARVN, but isn't any good with it. Along with her walkie-talkie, she has a non-regulation knife hidden in her boot, as well as a English-Vietnamese translation guide.

Edited by: PsychoticLoner

Private Doris Gahagan. #38-274-26. Squad Medic. 5'6'' 142Ibs

Born in Seattle, Washington in 1940. Was studying to become a doctor when the war broke out and joined the Reservists as a field medic to serve her country and countrymen, and was stationed in Fort Bradley when the Soviet rogues attacked. She proved herself to be skilled in trauma treating and was sent to Vietnam where she was needed more. A very skilled doctor for operations and non-emergency problems, but completely useless in fighting, being very afraid of rushing blood (which is something that she hides). Very supportive of the Allies and willing to argue for it. Carries a picture of her parents and her dog, as well as a pendant.

Captain McGraw staggers into the room, a grin on his moustached face that gives everyone in the room the sudden urge to throw a punch his way. He, of course, is completely oblivious to the waves of hatred eminating in his direction, though Gunny picks up on it and eyes the captain with suspicion. The captain pulls down a map from the wall, though it fails to stay in place at first, and eventually he resorts to yanking on it hard enough to cause it to break and hang, slightly off angle.

"I have good news for you, squad! You are now the platoon's acting A-Team. The A, of course, stands for action, which your about to get!"

He looks somewhat pleased with what he probably imagines to be a joke. It's actually in incredibly poor taste, considering the fate of the previous A-Team. Silently, you imagine how satifying it would be to push him out of a helicopter.

"Yesterday, as you might have heard, one of the storage sheds over by the airfield was destroyed by an enemy artillery shell. We've since determined that the round came from a 122mm artillery position to the south, probably an SCV emplacement. We're going to be dropping your squad off in the village of Cu Da, which was close to where we think the artillery came from. You're to gather intelligence, find and disable the gun, kill or capture the weapon's crew, then return to the village for pickup."

Gunny shoots a look at the captain, and you quickly figure out why. This is very much not the sort of mission Reservists were supposed to go on. The intelligence gathering bit is distinctly an ARVN operation, and the search and destroy strikes you as the sort of thing Peacekeepers do.

"Should you require the support, we have several howitzers on-station for artillery support, including a Valkyrie for precision strikes. Air support is out; there is a ZSU unaccounted for in the jungle, so we can't risk it."

Of course, the ZSU couldn't threaten a jet, but you are increasingly realizing that this mission is probably off the books. You have serious doubts that Captain McGraw even knows the proper protocol for requistioning air support, and the on-station artillery probably involves him walking to the nearby fire base and telling the guys there to turn their gun around.

After McGraw asks "Any Questions?" in a tone that most definately indicates he's not taking questions, the squad shuffles out of the tent.

---

Less than an hour later, your squad is dropped off by Cardinal in the tiny village of Cu Da, a tiny arrangments of huts, tents and sheet metal salvaged from NVA gear. There are probably less than two hundred people living here. On the outskirts of the village is a Ranger waystation, manned by four incredibly serious looking soldiers in a green-brown camo. Everyone quickly ducks out of the way when they see you, leaving the village deathly quiet.

(Time to gather intelligence! How are you going to go about it?)

Edited by: open_sketchbook

Jim waited till the Cardinal was out of sight, looked around, slouched out of attention position, pulled out his tie-dye peace bandanna, and tied it over his forehead.

After glancing at the village and their reception, he said "Man, this is really gonna suck, ain't it?" in a disinterested tone.

(Apologies if it was a bad entry and/or I need to tone down my language- I am making a petty attempt to get in-character.)

Edited by: Galgus

Erik peered around, hopping onto the balls of his combat booted feet for a better view.
"Looks like we have atleast a half a dozen square miles of dense jungle to search. Maybe we should ask the the locals." he said, half pessimistically serious, half sarcastic; "If they aren't, you know, shooting at us."

John nervously puts a hand on his rifle and cautiously approaches the Rangers. "Do you speak English?" he asks, afraid that it will lead to gunfire, and not from him.

Fernando looked around, doing his best to appraise the situation - so far, however, he figured that the Rangers were the best ones to go to for intelligence. He looked around at the rest of his group.

In a moderately accented, but still understable English he spoke, "Everyone, keep weapons shouldered, but do not take them out. Erik, Jim...no complaining. Sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can report back to that pendajo McGraw. John...maybe we ask Jennifer to try and open contact, yes? She's the translator."

He kept his rifle slung but prepared as he looked around the village. He trusted the Rangers to know that the villagers were friendly...but he was no idiota - he'd heard about ambushes in supposedly 'safe' villages.

Could you edit in our base equipment into the OP of this thread, for reference?

Jennifer was less than confident of John's ability to speak to the Rangers, but didn't much care, either. All too often villages like this turned against anyone in blue because of some dumb reason. Instead, she took note of any potential cover around her, including her squadmates, preparing for the worst. She snapped back to attention after being rudely interrupted by Fernando.

Jennifer shouldered her rifle. Walking over and roughly butting in to John's conversation, she sputtered out to the Rangers "Khong ... sao dau ban?".

"There is no problem, friend" in bad Vietnamese

Should there be a roll for if how that goes?

Jack crouches down and walks backward to his squad. He speaks quietly "I have only been here a month, and I already hate it here. Alot warmer than France."

"If you ask me, I suggest to not ask the locals. They never give accurate information."

Note : In combat, everyone will act at the same time; you all tell me your actions, and I resolve them in the order that makes the most sense. During plot time, like now, I'll resolve them whenever I feel they need resolving and in whatever order works out best.

I've decided to aim for a nice in-between of comedic and serious. If you are too serious, I will write what you do in a silly manner. If you are too silly, reality will ensure. Hopefully, it ought to balance out.

-ProudAmerikan-
Roll to Keep Order : 2+1= 3 (Meager Success)

You keep your eye primarily fixed on Jim, making sure the hippy doesn't think about running anywhere. He stays put, which is good. You do fail to notice Erik sneak off to ask some questions, and Jennifer quickly takes over the task of communicating with the ARVN before John can screw it up.

-Acook10-

Roll to Complain in a Hard-Boiled Manner : 3 (Meager Success)

It's warm in Vietnam, too warm. Like every mercilessly hot day you've ever had mixed into one. Speaking of mixing, you could use a drink. Wait, nevermind mixing; a fifth of scotch will do. You'll mix it directly with the glass, then directly with your liver. You rack the slide on your gat in a threatening, hardboiled manner, and begin the task of looking for trouble. Not the trouble you like, trouble from a dame, trouble that ends in snatched kisses and lettus in the wallet. No, this is trouble from the enemy, the worst sort, the sort that gets your noodle clipped with a metal pill, if you catch my drift.

The rest of your squad eyes you suspiciously; the last thing they need is somebody trying to go Captain Rocket and getting them all killed.

-Galgus-

Roll to Headband : 1 (Epic Fail)

Attempting to get the handband on, which should have been a simple task, turns into a disaster because you forgot to use both hands. It takes you several minutes to extract your finger from the knot at the back. Finally, you settle for it around your neck, and, frustrated, you drop kick your helmet. It disappears from sight over a group of huts.

You hope you didn't particularly need that.

-Blood-Russia-
Roll to Locals : 6 (Overshot)

With a sudden burst of confidence, you knock on the door of the nearest buildings, which appears to have been constructed primarily out of parts from wrecked NVA vehicles. Clearly a good place to start; these folks would have to know where the NVA stash their stuff! The front hatch swings open, and you find yourself confronted with two of the prettiest ladies you've ever seen. Before you can get a word in edgewise, they pull you through the hatch, chatting enthusiastically between themselves in a curious mixture of english and vietnamese. You catch a few words; "American", "Hansome" and some things that a veteran soldiers had scrawled into the back of your phrasebook with a smile.

Suddenly, you understand why everyone says spies live the good life. Intelligance gathering is fun!

-PsychoticLoner-
Roll to Communicate : 3+1=4 (Success)

The lead Ranger pulls a Vietnamese-to-English guidebook out of his vest and, with considerable difficulty, the two of you work out a rough system of communicating involving wild motions to discribe complex concepts and stick figure drawings to express deep philosphical concepts. After a quick exchange of unit information (They are appearently from the 31th Ranger Group, who specialize in public relations with rural villages) you get down to discribing the artillery gun problem. They point vaguely to the southwest, indicating they've heard regular artillery fire about once every three hours, but that they had been informed it was a Peacekeeper gun. Unfortunately, they don't know the area particularly well, but they have some local guides they can introduce you to.

This is turning out to be be made of win

Galgus epic winned .

Doris stayed put, not knowing Vietnamese. She scanned the area for any sights of... things benefiting their mission.

go123452 wrote: Galgus epic winned .

Jim was lucky the helmet didn't nail a ranger in the head- it would make the translator's job interesting. Then again, no-one really knows where that thing ended up...

The hippy was having a hard time putting on his headband, Fernando noticed. Maybe he was new at the concept. The loss of his helmet was odd...ah, he must be one of those people - believed the Earth Spirit bound in his headband would protect his head from harm.

As a leading sergeant, Fernando figured this - he had to keep order, and make sure things ran smoothly in the squad...while at the same time not being so strict that his squad would put a bullet in his head the next time a firefight came up. Thus, it was better to try not to go shouting orders until things suddenly got real hot, real fast. Hopefully that wouldn't go down just yet.

In the meantime, he pulled out his map and decided to try and study it for any distinguishing landmarks or areas.

Jack stood up, and started to relax. He says quietly "do you guys know where we are going yet?"
(sorry I don't know what else to do)

John is itchy about waiting and decides to pace the village and scout it out while Fernando reads his map.