Death's Keeper, Sgt. Mac...

I suppose I could always start at the beginning, but nearly recent history is more palatable to the masses. Besides, a rather mediocre childhood and education all aside, life becomes more interesting after we start making our own choices. My first truly self-made decision to join the military and make something of myself started off much like anyone else's. I arrived at the Army recruiter's office, signed my 'Hancock' to paper, kissed the Queen's picture and took the shilling. I was shuffled off to the train and the grand adventure that has become my life. After two weeks of up-down, up-down, left-right, left-right and enduring the Color Sargent's rotten, hot breath, they shuttled us off to the rifle-range and issued what would become my life's first and true love, Miss Lee-Enfield. Soon enough though, my superiors saw the untapped talent I had for throwing death down range with uncanny accuracy.
Soon after, I was prospected by the Nor` Umblerlander Reggies and sent off with them, with a kiss from Her Highness Louise and another shilling to Darkest Afrikka. Serving under that hot ass sun was a hell of a way to earn a kiss and a snuggle from a pretty girl, but the calling was on me to save or send as many heathen savages as God was willing to accept from the end of the sweet octagonal boomstick called 'The Whitworth'.

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