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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 1992723" data-attributes="member: 26473">The legionnaires quietly accept their orders. Duval continues, “Groups as before – Neumann with Mador, Kerenin, and Gonzalez, Lavareaux with Martinez, Dinter, and Berg. Fortier – ” the jumpmaster reaches into his rucksack, pulls out a small bag “ – that’s my aid kit. You’re with me and Gaspard now.”Sergent-chef Duval motions with his arm. “Tactical column by twos, Kerenin and Mador on point. Watch your dispersal.” He motions toward the gap between the hills to the east. “Caporal Lavareaux, see to the prisoner. Move out.”Like a disjointed centipede the double-line of legionnaires begins marching east, Normand and Pyotr in the lead, Vidal and Marcel just behind Sgt. Duval at the rear of the formation.The sun is blazing ahead just above the eastern horizon. Already there is a shimmering haze to the east and the sunlight is hot on the legionnaires’ skin. It promises to be a scorching day. There is no cover to speak of as the plain slopes away from the mountains, the patches of scrub and grass fewer and further between. The slight breeze that the legionnaires felt on landing has disappeared - the air is still and heavy.A pistol shot rings out behind the paras, then another. A moment later caporal Lavareaux catches up to the unit, alone.</blockquote>