![[ADF] Has Closed Recruitment.](/images/happybirthday.png)
The [ADF] Clan: In Wartime Letter Form
Dearest Mother,
I hope this letter finds you and the boys in good health. I've been assigned a unit and arrived on the frontline last month. I'm currently serving with the ADF clan, a unit that orginated in New Orleans as a jazz band back in 1923. My first days with the unit have been interesting. I was giving a stirring introductory speech by Captain Sedz upon my arrival. He recalled the heady days of 2005, way back when the unit was formed on the Battlefield of 1942. I don't know where that is, but he seemed to speak of it with some reverence. The ADF also served on the Battlefields of 2, 2142, and BC2. I'm not particularly familiar with the numbering system they're using, but it would seem that over the last 6 years they've had a long and colourful history. Sedz informed me that they have also felt the Call of Duty to Modern Warfare, and served in Operation Flashpoint: Dragon Rising. The point where the grizzled old dog was the most excited was when he was speaking of an upcoming assignment, to Battlefield 3 later this year. While he came across as mostly confused and reasonably alcoholic, it is an honour to serve with a group that has such an illustrious history.
My commanding officer Homer is a fine chap, although he is prone to the odd peculiarity. He makes us call him El Presidente. No one knows why, it's not even a military rank. Also whenever he has company he makes all of us pretend to be long lost cousins of his from down South and forbids any of us to mention ADF to his friends. In that way I suppose you could say ADF is like fight club. Or an STD.
Unfortunately I was not able to received your parcel of home made cookies, because Corporal Devar did instead. Overcome by his base instinct he scarfed them down like there was no tomorrow. After my complaints El Presidente threatened to remove Devon's medals from him, which seemed to scare him to the point of actually soiling himself and shouting over and over that it took him "Four years, lots of lube and a few tearful late nights" to earn his Great Forum Activity Medal. Apparently medals are a big deal around these parts.
The rest of the unit are jolly fine bunch of chaps. They all hail from that favourite colony of ours, Australia. There's a good mix of career soldiers and part timers. And Sargeant Oughtboy, who is neither of those things and insists on taking snaps of his johnson for the other men to see. El Presidente explained that there are a few that take it particularly seriously - although at this point he gestured towards a tent that when I went inside was completely empty except for Captain Sedz, sitting cross legged on the floor waiting for some kind of conflict to arise because he loved "beating profags at their own game", whatever that means. I wasn't even aware that we were at war with the great nation of Profagia. El Presidente was quick to assure me that there were more competitive players in the unit than this slavering psychopath (not to be confused with Private Psycho, who doesn't actually slaver). However he was also quick to make the rather alarming observation that some of the members just serve socially. I didn't know it was possible to serve socially in a war, unless you are Jordan Sparks and the battlefield is Love.
However, this is not the case. John Mayer is not our tactician, and this is not Heartbreak Warfare. This is proper man business. Apart from Corporal Devon eating my biscuits the unit are a great bunch of lads, there's no doubt about that. They inform me that recruitment has reopened, so if you could forward this letter to the Smiths, Delawares, and the Andersons I would appreciate it greatly.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Regards,
Your son (Sargeant Sharky).
PS I'd have sent you a picture of us as a unit but with Sargeant Oughtboy insisting on getting his gentleman's sausage out everytime a camera gets within one hundred feet of him I decided against it.
Join [ADF] Today
I hope this letter finds you and the boys in good health. I've been assigned a unit and arrived on the frontline last month. I'm currently serving with the ADF clan, a unit that orginated in New Orleans as a jazz band back in 1923. My first days with the unit have been interesting. I was giving a stirring introductory speech by Captain Sedz upon my arrival. He recalled the heady days of 2005, way back when the unit was formed on the Battlefield of 1942. I don't know where that is, but he seemed to speak of it with some reverence. The ADF also served on the Battlefields of 2, 2142, and BC2. I'm not particularly familiar with the numbering system they're using, but it would seem that over the last 6 years they've had a long and colourful history. Sedz informed me that they have also felt the Call of Duty to Modern Warfare, and served in Operation Flashpoint: Dragon Rising. The point where the grizzled old dog was the most excited was when he was speaking of an upcoming assignment, to Battlefield 3 later this year. While he came across as mostly confused and reasonably alcoholic, it is an honour to serve with a group that has such an illustrious history.
My commanding officer Homer is a fine chap, although he is prone to the odd peculiarity. He makes us call him El Presidente. No one knows why, it's not even a military rank. Also whenever he has company he makes all of us pretend to be long lost cousins of his from down South and forbids any of us to mention ADF to his friends. In that way I suppose you could say ADF is like fight club. Or an STD.
Unfortunately I was not able to received your parcel of home made cookies, because Corporal Devar did instead. Overcome by his base instinct he scarfed them down like there was no tomorrow. After my complaints El Presidente threatened to remove Devon's medals from him, which seemed to scare him to the point of actually soiling himself and shouting over and over that it took him "Four years, lots of lube and a few tearful late nights" to earn his Great Forum Activity Medal. Apparently medals are a big deal around these parts.
The rest of the unit are jolly fine bunch of chaps. They all hail from that favourite colony of ours, Australia. There's a good mix of career soldiers and part timers. And Sargeant Oughtboy, who is neither of those things and insists on taking snaps of his johnson for the other men to see. El Presidente explained that there are a few that take it particularly seriously - although at this point he gestured towards a tent that when I went inside was completely empty except for Captain Sedz, sitting cross legged on the floor waiting for some kind of conflict to arise because he loved "beating profags at their own game", whatever that means. I wasn't even aware that we were at war with the great nation of Profagia. El Presidente was quick to assure me that there were more competitive players in the unit than this slavering psychopath (not to be confused with Private Psycho, who doesn't actually slaver). However he was also quick to make the rather alarming observation that some of the members just serve socially. I didn't know it was possible to serve socially in a war, unless you are Jordan Sparks and the battlefield is Love.
However, this is not the case. John Mayer is not our tactician, and this is not Heartbreak Warfare. This is proper man business. Apart from Corporal Devon eating my biscuits the unit are a great bunch of lads, there's no doubt about that. They inform me that recruitment has reopened, so if you could forward this letter to the Smiths, Delawares, and the Andersons I would appreciate it greatly.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Regards,
Your son (Sargeant Sharky).
PS I'd have sent you a picture of us as a unit but with Sargeant Oughtboy insisting on getting his gentleman's sausage out everytime a camera gets within one hundred feet of him I decided against it.