What kind of sunglasses? I find Oakleys and Gargoyles to be far too cliche. And I would like to wear a chain someplace, as long as it does not draw my masculinity into question.
I’d be the nerdy recruit who ends up with the cute native girl. 
Either that or Hudson from Aliens.
I’ll be the calm, level-headed sniper who takes out entire regiments of enemy soldiers from afar, but then runs out of ammo. I’m then forced to fend the onslaught of troops off with only a knife, saying something brave and heroic as I buy the rest of the squad enough time to get out. Then I pretend I’m dead, and come back and save the day right at the end of the mission, surprising everyone.
See? I even come with my own plotline. Am I in?
I’ll be the old vet who whips all the new recruits into shape. Sort of the Lou Gossett-Gene Hackman-Lee Marvin-Warren Oates type. I’ll be totally disgusted with all of you at first and you’ll all hate my guts but gradually we’ll all earn each other’s respect. Plus, the night before the big attack, I’ll tell everyone around the campfire about a similar mission I was part of in the last war.
I want to be the rich financial partner, Also I’m an adrenaline junkie/sophisticated james bond type, who goes in with fully automatic weapons strapped to each arm…why? For the women, of coarse. And my code name is agent 069.
Oh and I get a really neat sports car, and since we will be in mostly desert and rocky regions, the vehicle will be equipped with off-road suspension, big nobby tires, bullet proof and big fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror.
I’m really good at getting overwrought and discouraged.
I’ll be the one who plunks her butt down in the sand crying that I can’t go on, that we’ll never make it, that we’ll never find him, that it’s futile, that it was a stupid mission anyway… then one or more of you can start giving me the pep talk, the ol’ “Get up off your ass and DO IT FOR AMERICA!” pep talk. It’ll inspire everyone anew as we are reminded in the most poetic-yet-toughguy terms of what the mission means and why we have undertaken it.
Of course, this means we need someone along to cue the music, because I want a big upswell of patriotic music when this speech comes.
It also occurs to me that as this character I can fall down a lot during training. Then to Little Nemo’s disgust, the most manly among you can fall back and pick me up and encourage me to finish, even though it means blowing your chance at breaking the unit record for the obstacle course. I think we could work in another speech here about what it means to be a team. With more emotional music.
As Sue Duhnym’sRight Hand Man, I will be her chauffeur as well. I shall drive her around the desert in a specially outfitted Porsche Cayenne.
The windows will, of course, be blacked out, and a very special sound system installed for her fahrvegnugen.
I will be the girl whom at some later point will be revealed as a cyborg.(pick an anime, any anime)
I vounteer for the seemingly useless, unknown job (think of Carrie Moss in Matrix) but while not performing said unknown job is highly skilled in the art of killing terrorists and completely unfazed by the blood and guts of the job (killing part). Plus, I wanna look good in black leather.
Wait! You don’t have the guns guy. You know, master of anything that shoots bullets. I come with dual General Electric Miniguns, and a frame backpack for the ammo. It’s cinematic, so it doesn’t run out for ages. I can heft this without effort, and consider smaller machine guns side arms.
In camp, I sit around quietly and polish my guns.
Oooh, can I go?
I’ll be the plain-Jane one who takes care of supplies so everyone has clean jammies. (Admit it, even you band-of-thugs types sleep better in nice clean jammies.) And when one of you Major Characters gets hurt/maimed/nearly-killed, I’ll wander out into the terrain and find some obscure herb to staunch bleeding/counteract poison/restore brain function.
'Cause that’s just the surprising kinda gal I am.
Oh, and I can make candles, so if anyone needs to have a suprise romantic dinner, or if Someone Important has a birthday, I’ll whip a few up out of the wax that I find…well, out there in the terrain somewhere, same as the herbs.
And at some point, I’d like to draw a map in the sand with a stick, if I may? But only, of course, if you need me to.
~karol
:raises hand:
Can I be the guy who drives the tank around blaring really loud seventies music over a PA system as I demolish entire villages and groups of ground troops? Just let me know, I’ve already got the tank and the PA, I’ll be over in a few minutes
[sub]And I REALLY need to have a flamethrower…REALLY[/sub]
Ohh…ooh…I want to be the quiet, mysterious one with an odd sense of authority… who just, of course, happens to look great in black leather. And who is surprisingly skilled at kicking ass. 
Explosives.
I get to do the explosives. Booby traps, building demolition, maybe even FAE if there is an opportunity.
Oh…and can I have small, easily concealed weaponry? That just happens to be really, really cool? And needlessly tech-y looking? Yay.
Okay we still have openings for the following:
The clean cut soldier who learned everything he knows about the military in some academic setting but has never seen any real combat. The others make fun of him because he’s always talking about ancient battle history or esoteric military theory. But at some point he comes up with a brilliant suggestion, based on something he’s read, that saves the day.
The psychotic biker guy who was a vet in the war (he served in the commander’s unit) but now spends most of his time drinking, fighting in bars, and getting locked up in county jail. He’s loud and tells politically incorrect jokes.
The mystical ethnic guy (black or Cherokee or some other undefined nationality). He’s a master of tracking and wilderness survival. He doesn’t talk much and when he does it’s usually confusing aphorisms. He fights with a bow and arrow, a blowgun, or some other archaic weapon.
The tough chick. She’s the good looking female soldier who’s more macho than any of the men in the outfit. An expert in both hand to hand combat and all types of firearms. At least one man has to make a pass at her early in the mission and get totally squelched. Wears a black tank top with no bra.
The local. He or she is the native who teams up with the squad and passes on information about what the enemy is doing. Will be captured by the enemy at some point and require rescuing. If male, will sacrifice his life for the team. If female, will fall in love with the youngest and/or most innocent looking member of the team (Michael Ellis has already volunteered for this role).
I wanna be the medic.
I can put on little smilie-face and Disney and Warner Brother’s bandaids on any booboo.
Oh, yeah I know we aren’t going to get hurt, but you know we go around with shart objects (you know like paper, nail files, sunglasses, flame throwers), someone is going to sit in the wrong place and a owwie will happen.
And I can give everyone aspirin for the headache from listening to everyone talk loudly about how they are gonna spend the money.
Looks around Afghanistan and sees mountains, sand and rocks. Hmmm… no room here for the commercial real estate guy come to save the day with what…my HP 12C and after tax CFA spreadsheets? I don’t think so.
Oh wait! I know I can be the mysterious voice on the other end of the speaker phone saying I will disavow all knowledge of your existence should you be so stupid as to get caught. And if you do get caught I’ll have to get Scylla to silence you “just in case”. But he’ll be all conflicted because you’re his bud and you took a bullet for him in the Gulf and so I’ll have to hire someone to take care of him too… God this espionage business is complicated.
Hey, got any space for the gruff, older sergeant guy? The one who gets to do the scene where the new guy is near tears the night before the battle, and (while somewhere in the background, another soldier is playing a harmonica, needlessly making them all glaring targets, but what the heck, it’s necessary for the scene, leave it in) tells him reassuringly that he’s done this before, it’s always scary, and to stick close to him the next day, and follow orders carefully.
Of course, that’s followed by the scene in which the new guy gets to watch me get the crap blown outta myself during the battle while saving his butt, but hey, anything for art, right?
Er… I mean, anything for my country.
Eyeballs everyone in the room menacingly, now sharpening his broadsword on an enormous rock