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 sweet octagonal boomstick called 'The Whitworth'.

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