We are those guys that walk alone with a rifle by our sides we are the troops that are left behind we are the soldiers that shall lye in the blood stained sand praying for the end.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

We can host CSS,garry's mod,IL-2 Sturmovik 1946 (HyperLobby) And Battle zone 2