Disclaimer: This is my own version of Vanguard and will have nothing to do with the actual game, so you're safe from that games example of what not to do.
In the height of WW2, Germany's Africa campaign was being dismantled by the S.A.S. Their raids...
Y/N was walking through the war office on his way to receive his orders soldiers looking at the insignia on his arm wondering what it was for. As he walked into an office he saw a man, they looked stern, and most of all...pompous.
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As Y/N walked in, he saw Connolly sipping a whisky in the corner of the room.
"General, Commander." Y/N said as Clark looked up at him with rage in his eyes.
"Ah, so you do know my rank." Clark asked as Connolly sipped his whisky and stood back as Clark glared at Y/N.
"Yes, you're a commander."
"Then tell me this Y/N, why aren't you saluting?!" Clark demanded.
"Because in Y/N's regiment, they will have a certain disregard for military etiquette." Connolly explained.
"Well, they're not an official regiment yet and they're not on deployment so he will salute me and his superiors when entering the room." Clark stated. "Clear?! What sort of man in the military doesn't respect his superiors."
Y/N just looked at Clark before moving closer to his desk and leaning on it with his hands, getting close to Clark.
"It appears that you're looking for someone to pick on, you can try if you like, but first, let me give you a warning, one which will answer your previous question I hope. I am a particular kind of soldier, a commander. I trained with other men like myself, some live only to fight and kill the enemy, others are careless of uniforms and will fight anyone at all. There are mercifully few of us, but in war, we are allowed to be the beasts that we are. We are taught to kill silently, and it becomes instinctive, almost like swallowing. And the cursed thing is, once learned, you can't unlearn it. Do you understand?" Y/N started, pausing and looking Clark dead in the eyes. "You shake hands with a man and you can't help but glance at his throat. Every part of his body is an invitation to be eagerly accepted as a dog accepts a bone. Eyes are for thumbs to push...into the brain. Mouths can be torn open, necks are a gift. Gods ultimate mistake. Spoons, tea towels, cups of tea...They are all weapons. Everything you touch...is a weapon. You are a weapon. If our gentlemen generals have the sense to unleash us...can you even imagine? Ordinary men...when they encounter us, are...understandably reluctant to make our acquaintance, but if you really do insist..."
By this point Clark, was wearing a terrified look on his face, like he had just come face to face with the devil.
"No need to salute." Clark stuttered as Y/N nodded. "All of the intelligence from our spy is in this folder, I'll, I'll get out of your way."
Clark rushed out of the room like his arse was on fire. Connolly chuckled.
"I knew that speech would come in handy, it works every time. Stirling used to use it all the time in Africa." Y/N remarked as he poured himself and Connolly a glass of whisky. "To old friends."
"Old friends." Connolly toasted as Y/N picked up the intelligence packet and read through the reports.
"So, you'll be briefing your team in an hour so I'll get this over with quickly. Tonight at twenty hundred hours you'll be flown over an area in the French region of the Ardennes, from there, you'll be expected to set up a base of operations and raise hell for the jerry, we have a spy in a nearby city of Reims, this isn't an order, but I would recommend that you meet up with her, she might know a good target for you and your chaps to hit. We're sending you with some radio equipment to communicate with us and for us to communicate with you, the Germans won't know the frequency so we should be safe just to be certain check it daily. Understood?"
"Yes. I'll go and meet up with the boys, sir, how will we recognise the British spy?" Y/N asked as Connolly smiled.
"You won't they'll contact you using the radio equipment when you're set up, send us a report that you're established, wait fifteen minutes, and she'll contact you with a time and a place." Connolly said as Y/N nodded.
"Yes sir." Y/N said as he left.
An hour later Y/N arrived in the mess hall with a pile of booklets, which were entirely made up of blank paper.
"Sergeant, would you hand them out to the lads for me." Y/N said as he poured himself some tea. The Sergeant began handing out the booklets to the soldiers in groups, who all took a book and passed the pile along.
"Gentlemen, what you have before you is a very important document which will inform every aspect of your service with your new regiment. Page one is a list of the specific objectives we have been given by GHQ for the duration of the forthcoming campaign. On the second page you will see a diagram of the chain of command within our unit, along with protocols and uniform requirements, which must be strictly obeyed." Y/N explained as the men began to laugh at the blank pages joke. "And on the third page you will see a list of equipment, supplies and tactical support we will be given by GHQ for our actions behind enemy lines. The Vanguard...is a blank page. And it is our job to fill it. Right, we move out tonight."
"Why don't you think of a motto or something for our boys, Carthings?" Y/N remarked as he Carthings smirked and nodded.
That night the whole regiment boarded the planes that would be flying them over France, about to embark on a mission of merciful mayhem deep into the Third Reich...
