Closing the Gap!

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

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This Battle is Strictly 2 vs. 2 or 1, so please be mindful of how many NPC units you decide to use!

Map Details:

• When putting in your units, they must be as big as the units I have drawn (which is small). This is a large scale map and please don’t use anymore than a few colours for your side. You can’t name every single unit, so describe where they are and what they’re doing during your post. It’s impossible to pick a colour for every unit icon.
  
• As you can see, I gave my important units detail. Such as Red Stripes, Different Colour/s and Insignia. Define your important units using the same method, mass infantry units should ideally be one colour when using a bulk amount. So it’s up to you to name where they are or name the units for when Staff mod-mark shots made.
  
• Can’t see the units properly? ZOOM IN, you can do this using PAINT and the MAGNIFINE Glass.
  
• If staff are unsure to what unit is where, they may ask freely and in return, you must be able to say/describe who is that unit. If not, staff may pick a name from your NPC list to injure or kill. Assuming that unit is in that location. So PLEASE describe as best you can without making it confusing.
  
• First post MUST be introductory, no more.
  

____________________________________________________________

Allied: McMillan & Brentwood; so no more Allied Units may enter.
Allied NPC units:
- NPC Sergeant Daniel W. Alexander
- NPC: Combat Radio-Operator; Jordan Watts

- NPC Rodger T. Belsing
- NPC Tony A. Welton
- NPC Dennis J. Flemming
- NPC James F. Welton
- NPC Andy N. Grove
- NPC Brian C. Hawks
- NPC Sid H. Keithly
- NPC Colin C. Spennock
- NPC Jimmy A. Fox
- NPC Robert L. Wiseman
- NPC Harry P. Fledger


Axis NPC units:
--- Wolfram NPCs ---
- NPC: Kurt Schwarz (DRIVER / HALFTRACK)
- NPC: Bruno Schmitz (GUNNER / HALFTRACK)
- NPC: SGT. Herman Z. Heinrich
- NPC: CORP. Kaiser J. Gerwulf
- NPC: COMMS OFFICER. Carl B. Leonhard
- NPC: Addler V. Claus
- NPC: Gunter B. Hans

--- Vlakte NPCs ---
- NPC: Wilhelm Kutscher (DRIVER / CONVOY)
- NPC: Md.Asst. 1 : Konrad J. Friedhold
- NPC: Md.Asst. 2 : Theodrik D. Scherbaum
- NPC: Soldier: Leberecht G. Schumacher
- NPC: Soldier: Emmerich K. Schuster
- NPC: Soldier: Guntram L. Recke


~Danny

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

“This bloody heat” muttered Liam subtly to himself, as he adjusted his green beret upon his skull a little, sitting in the hard canvas diver’s seat to his jeep, his hands resting upon the wheel of his vehicle slowly afterwards. Looking towards his Radio-Man stiffly, he pulled a phased look, before glancing up to the rear-view mirror towards his 30.Cal gunner in the back - Private Belsing lounged against the gun a little, watching as the advancing party up front made their way towards a small harbour looking town, abandoned by the threat of war coming their way. Well it looked awfully quiet.

Liam observed the situation up front, he’d assigned his Company Sergeant Major with a ten man platoon of men and an Experienced Sergeant to go infiltrate the town, lock it down. Since becoming a Captain, Liam knew the new limelight his persona now held, he was to be a fully fledged leader of the Royal Marine Commandos and that came with risks; As much as he hated it, but he was advised to stand back a little when it came to the frontlines, particularly as the small harbour town upfront could be the makeshift home to the krauts - their first target would be hitting the lead commander, being the Captain, if a surprise attack occurred.

So patiently, Captain Brentwood sat within his driver’s seat, watching as they carefully approached the quiet harbour side town upfront. Reaching into his inside pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and placed it upon his lips, monitoring the small silhouette figures of his lads moving between the buildings, kicking a few crates over as they checked out the area cautiously. Hopefully his Company Sergeant Major, McMillan, was doing a fine job clearing out the area. Sparking a light for his cigarette, the Captain inhaled deeply and softly exhaled the long puff of smoke against the folded up windscreen to his jeep - usually it was folded down, but a few of his men advised him to have it folded up from now on, since marksmen favoured a decorative kill.

“Captain, I think they’re signalling us to go down - looks clear” spoke the mild mannered Private Belsing on the rear gun, as he straightened up against the gunnery and held onto it, as if preparing himself for the jeep to move. “Oh, so they are. Well spotted” said Liam as he looked up front towards a small figure waving them down, before turning towards his Radio-Man quickly. “Alright, Watts I want you to radio in Marker B has been taken” he said swiftly, as the Radio Man nodded to unhook the hard phone from off the radio pack resting against his lap, winding the turnstile on the side of the heavy metal gear to build up some static electricity for the call. “Alpha four, Alpha four, this is Green Bird Over” he said huskily down the mouthpiece of the phone, his hand covering his mouth a little as if to try and cut out any other noises.

Whilst Jordan Watts communicated with Headquarters, Liam started up the engine and crunched the gear into place, before pulling away quickly towards the nearby harbour town. Pulling up towards the small crowd of men around the Company Sergeant Major, the Captain stopped the Jeep in a prime position facing the nearby bridge, his head turning slightly as he spoke up towards Private Belsing on the gunnery “Keep your eyes on that bridge Private, until we get a picket signed up” said Liam firmly, as Belsing swung the 30.cal around without anymore orders, but as Liam went to get out of the jeep, the Communication Officer caught him by the arm and muttered out “Sir - they wish to speak to you”. Rolling his eyes a little, Captain Brentwood leant over and took the phone, half speaking as he waved his hand up towards the Company Sergeant Major. “Yes Sir, Yes Sir…” mumbled the Captain, before holding his hand over the mouth piece to quickly call out towards the Company Sergeant Major incase he didn’t see him signalling him to come over. “Sergeant!” he hollered out, hoping to grab his attention a little more, whilst he listened to someone on the opposite end of the radio mumble on about something or another…

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

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McMillan looked about as the breeze flowed gently through the trees and the wildlife almost acted as if the war hadn't even come near here yet. He lit up a cigarette as he saw the Captain's jeep crest the nearest hill. "Look alive men!" He took a drag and blew it out quickly then tugged a bit on his sling to his MP44. He stepped toward his sergeant and yelled out, "Sergeant!" Sergeant Alexander turned to face McMillan. "Take first squad to Patrol point Alpha and send second squad off to Patrol point Delta! Let's keep this place secure gentlemen!" With that Sergeant Alexander turned to the two privates with him and motioned over to the rest of his squad, after a small huddle Private Grove ran over to second squad and with a nod of confirmation Private Hawks waved for second squad to rally on him as Private Grove caught back up with first squad.

"Wiseman, you stay with me in case we have to get a word out quickly it will be easier." Wiseman, who had been standing next to McMillan the whole time, nodded a bit and then opened up his canteen and took a swig from it. "Care for a drink Sarge?" McMillan turned his head back to him and shook it with the slightest of effort while he patted his own canteen, "As hot as it is, keep what you can..." he mumbled then took the cigarette from his lips, "...no need in any of us passing out."

McMillan turned back as the Captain's jeep squeaked to a halt, he saw the private in the rear swing around to the bridge with the .30 cal, he thought he saw a glimpse of the Captain waving at him to come over but wasn't sure, he was on the horn and McMillan didn't want to interrupt, but when Brentwood called out he was sure that time. Keeping his sight on the Captain he muttered "Come on." to Wiseman as he stepped off toward the Captain. "Oh and don't salute him, don't need him to get shot now do we?" He shuddered at the fact of losing his commanding officer, but pushed the thought aside and kept walking.

"Sir." he said with the smallest of nods. "We have secured this side of the river, but there aren't exactly enough of us here to secure the whole town, I don't feel to good about sending them across the bridge yet." He knew there wasn't too much of a point in saying so, reinforcements would take a little time to get there, and they needed this place locked down yesterday.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

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Changed the Upload Links, Pic was a bit too small.

--- Wolfram NPCs ---
- NPC: Kurt Schwarz (DRIVER / HALFTRACK)
- NPC: Bruno Schmitz (GUNNER / HALFTRACK)
- NPC: SGT. Herman Z. Heinrich
- NPC: CORP. Kaiser J. Gerwulf
- NPC: COMMS OFFICER. Carl B. Leonhard
- NPC: Addler V. Claus
- NPC: Gunter B. Hans

--- Vlakte NPCs ---
- NPC: Wilhelm Kutscher (DRIVER / CONVOY)
- NPC: Md.Asst. 1 : Konrad J. Friedhold
- NPC: Md.Asst. 2 : Theodrik D. Scherbaum
- NPC: Soldier: Leberecht G. Schumacher
- NPC: Soldier: Emmerich K. Schuster
- NPC: Soldier: Guntram L. Recke

---------------------------------------

FA-DOOMP! The Half-Track bounced vigorously as it bumped over a piece of the rough terrain on the road, causing the Sturmbannführer to bounce within his seat, clutching at the mild fabric of the seat he was perched on. His MP44 was resting against his lap timidly and as if instinctively, the Sturmbannführer glanced down and hooked up the safety catch on the side of the assault rifle, in fear the slightest motion could set the weaponry off, but the HalfTrack seemed to have superb suspension and most of the ride seemed to be a breeze - until now.

Leaning forwards Sturmbannführer Wolfram gazed into the left wind-mirror, making sure the Medical Convoy was still behind them. Grinning to himself quietly, he eased himself back into his seat and reached his arm up behind himself a little to thump against the hard metal wall, calling into the back of the sturdy truck “Wir sind fast dort, Gerwulf, signalisiert, aus Vlakte von unserem erfolgreichen Fortschritt Zu Verfälschen” the Sturmbannführer ordered, as the young Rottenführer hastily called out “Selbstverständlich Herr Sturmbannführer” and with that, Gerwulf stood up carefully, holding onto the wall tepidly as he stepped up onto a small platform in the back of the truck to look over the back of the sealed doors, his head emerging atop of the Halftrack - the halftrack didn’t have it’s plastic canopy pulled over, so Gerwulf balanced himself up against the back of the secured doors, looking over towards the convoy behind them.

Waving his hand out a little to try and gain their attention in the Convoy behind, Gerwulf put his thump up, to soon follow with a hand signal of two digits, trying to say ‘No longer than twenty minutes’, before strafing his hand out towards the front. Hopefully they got the message that their convoy was perhaps twenty minutes away from it’s destination and all was well… Their prime mission was to head up towards the frontlines and supply aid to the troops, hence the Medical Convoy and small muster of troops. They wasn’t on any assault mission, but the halftrack supplied gave enough protection if they stumbled across any enemies - right? The Sturmbannführer hoped so. He wasn’t equipped with the large amount of men he was duly used too and he could ill afford being injured at this time of the war.

Sighing a little, he sat backwards into his seat some, trying to get comfortable, knowing anytime now they’d be crossing a river. The bridge was in sight up front, then, from there it’d be a quick detour on the local French dirt-roads to one of their advancing party outposts to the North East, where the Sturmbannführer will negotiate with their Officers on the best route to advance from there into Enemy territory, not just that, but the Doctor in the Medical Convoy behind was requested to be of service on the Frontlines; They’d taken casualties as of late, so it was the least the Doctor could provide whilst the Sturmbannführer was needed upfront for tactical planning and perhaps calling up his Division or reserves for the fight at hand. War was a complicated matter.


Translations:[/b]

Wir sind fast dort, Gerwulf, signalisiert, aus Vlakte von unserem erfolgreichen Fortschritt Zu Verfälschen
~ We are almost there, Gerwulf, signal out to Doctor Vlakte of our successful progress

Selbstverständlich Herr Sturmbannführer
~ Of course Herr Sturmbannführer

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

The road became rough as the convoy got closer to the front-line. Doctor Vlakte could feel every rock, every bump the convoy truck went over. His abdominal region was feeling quite weary from the less-than-pleasant journey. Schütze Kutscher seemed to do the hard driving effortlessly. The Doctor had gotten lucky when he got Kutscher as his driver. He looked through the windshield to see Sturmbannführer Wolfram’s half-track; it seemed as if the vehicle didn’t bounce at all when it went over the rough terrain of the French roads.

Doctor Vlakte observed the passing scenery from his window when he saw Rottenführer Gerwulf stand up in the half-track. He was giving a hand signal, presumably to the Doctor. Dieedrik put his hand out the open window and gave Rottenführer Gerwulf a hand signal in reply. The young Rottenführer signalled that it was less than twenty minutes to arrival at the front-line. Doctor Vlakte took a deep breath; it would be his first time on the Western Front. It couldn’t be worse than Russia, he thought to himself.

As the convoy neared a small river, Doctor Vlakte looked back into the convoy truck and spoke to his men. “Friedhold, Scherbaum, check that your medical kits are secure. Schumacher, Schuster, and Recke; get ready to set up the operating facilities and, for God’s sake, don’t drop anything,” he said, sounding almost angry. The truck went over a final bump and doctor Vlakte turned back forward as he flew a few centimetres in the air. He got a feeling in his gut; he was ready for what was to come.

He envisioned the front-line: a dirt ridden maze of trenches with artillery shells dropping every second. He thought of it almost fondly; it seemed he was becoming more at home in war. He also felt more hatred well within him every time young soldiers of the Reich came across his operating table. From his time in Russia, he had learnt to hate the Communists; maybe he would learn to hate the Americans as well. Dieedrik didn’t know what to think, but he realised he couldn’t allow himself to think of such things when he was so near the front-line. He brought his attention back to the half-track in front of him. He was ready for whatever the Allies would throw at him.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

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Hey Guys, I just realised. Daniel Brennan is on holiday… So I may have to Mod-Mark this myself, considering no one else is around to Mod-Mark it. I can delay this thread for 2/3weeks until he returns or Mod-Mark it myself. :/ I’ll make the following Mod-Mark, but if you guys want to wait, then this can be frozen.

Also, the posting order is as follows;
- Brentwood
- McMillan
- Wolfram
- Vlakte

A Mod-Mark Will be made after every post with an offensive action.
~Danny

----------------------------------------------

Inhaling deeply, Captain Brentwood nodded to himself as he listened to the conferring voices on the other end of the blower. It seemed as if they were contemplating on moving Brentwood’s division to another location? Perhaps they had wind of the Germans making alternate routes, meaning they would’ve wasted precious fuel and time if the Germans were hitting another area, which could possibly now mean they were behind enemy lines? The Captain murmured “Alright Sir, Over and out”, before angrily he shoved the phone-piece off onto Jordan Watt’s lap.

Looking towards his Company Sergeant Major who approached after giving out some instructions to the boys, who seemed to quickly break up into two parties and move off into two directions, the Captain smirked a little as he sat up straight and nodded back towards the Sergeant as he spoke of being cautious about the opposite side of the river. Liam took a brief look over the Sergeant’s shoulder and slowly gave a nod of agreement, it looked as if there was more buildings to clear and crossing the bridge in the open could have them nailed - it did seem to make more sense to try and keep their side of the water more defended, than both sides for now.

“Alright Sergeant, we’ll set up a picket on the bridge, one to the north of the river and perhaps one towards the south. If there’s a small party of Krauts over there, they’ll know the bridge is ours now and by the looks of things, the river doesn’t look so deep this time of year. So we’ll need to patrol the river line” said the Captain a little worriedly as he tried to figure out how deep the water was, it probably wasn’t deep enough to ford’ off a party of Krauts from swimming over during the night. Then, something else began to draw the Captain’s attention, engine noises!? Quietly staring towards the Company Sergeant Major, Captain Brentwood pulled the Cigarette from his lips and stared towards the Bridge, watching as two vehicles in the short distance came prowling into view “We’re too late…” mumbled, before suddenly he sprung into action, “Sergant! Get down to the Second Squad, Now! I’ll take point Alpha with the First Squad, these Jerry Bastards won’t know what hit them with two lines of fire on their arse!”

Yanking the gear out of neutral and into reverse, he reared up the jeep backwards towards the bridge, looking back towards Belsing as he shouted “Cover the Sergeant! Shoot them DAMNIT!” Belsing suddenly grappled onto the 30.cal, glancing towards the Sergeant who hopefully was running by now, knowing he had to distract the convoy’s attention whilst good Mac’ made his way down to the Second Squad. Leaning into the 30.cal, he ripped roar with the gunnery, aiming directly off towards the first truck (halftrack). Meanwhile, Brentwood slapped Jordan Watt’s on his arm, yelling at him through the noise “Radio In! Marker B has been compromised and for crying out loud, ask if we have Artillery assistance for our location - there could be a whole friggen’ battalion rolling our way!” Jordan Watts quickly snatched the phone off the comms equipment and began calling in their situation, after a good minute or two with Belsing grounding down the Convoy on the bridge, the Captain yanked the gear-stick into first gear and hit the acceleration, swooping up beside the first squad to shout out “ON ME LADS!”, as he began to drive up towards the Northern frontier of brush and small woodlands.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

Following actions have been made;

Captain, Brentwood:

• Pvt. Belsing:
  - Firing a volley of bullets off towards the first truck (halftrack) of the enemy convoy, the .30 Cal rounds zipped and cut across the halftrack's exterior, cracking the windscreen and puncturing a few holes in the process.
  
  - The Halftrack's Driver has incurred a few small cuts across his face from the shattering pieces of glass (the whole windscreen isn't shattered, but due to a few bullets puncturing it, chunks of glass has been cascaded inwards with force).
  

NEXT POST - MCMILLAN!
~Danny[/color]

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

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McMillan listened as the Captain didn't seem to happy with whatever it was that he heard over the comms, none the less he seemed to still want to control the bridge, and McMillan thought that to be the best move as well. He listened as the Captain gave him the plan for the duration of their stay in the area. "Will do si..." he stopped as he saw the Captain's attention grabbed and he heard it as well. Engines, big ones and they were getting closer. He turned to see the largest monstrosity his eyes had layed upon in the entire war. "Holy Bloody Hell." he said under his breathe as the Captain threw his jeep into revers rather forcefully and backed it out of there. He yelled for some cover fire and told McMillan to stay with second squad.

McMillan nodded as he reached back without looking and shoved Wiseman in the direction of second squad "Go! Just GO!!!" Wiseman took the not so subtle hint and took off behind the fountain. McMillan side stepped almost in a hopping manner to the corner of the fountain and knelt down. Let's see what you can do. He thought as he pulled his new MP44 up to his shoulder and leveled it off while taking aim at the front of the Half-Track. His first burst of rounds he tried to place into the vulnerable rubber tire in the front of the vehicle on the driver's side, the rest, well he was trying to give the German's some better air conditioning in the thing with a few salvos toward the front windows.

He ducked back behind the small wall of the fountain and moved to the opposite end while crouching. "Fox!!" he yelled out, "Get 'em in that building and hunker down, we're in for a fight gentlemen!!!" With that being screamed at them they darted into the building, spanning all corners of it and then some. "Sarge!! They have two vehicles so far, can't see much!! One is a Half-Track, the other just looks like a truck!!" Came from the building loudly but a little muffled. "Oh they have a Half-Track do they?" he mumbled, Wiseman probably couldn't even hear him "Thanks for the news flash." He turned to Wiseman, "Did you see if the Captain made it out of there alright?"

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

Following Actions have been Made;

Company Sergeant Major, McMillan:

• Firing towards the tyre on the Driver's side (which is on the right side of the halftrack, not left) the bullets thumped and skimmed against the exterior, none of them penertrating the tyre at hand, due to the fact it's out of the line of fire.
  
  
• Firing for effect on the Driver afterwards, the bullets penertraetd the window just like the 30.cal prior, cascading shards and chunks of glass inwards, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't just be sitting there either - so most of the bullets missed, hitting the interior, however the Driver being the prime target, did incur damage;
  
  (Due to McMillan's Cert, this Unit Would've died, but I've given you the benifit of the doubt, concludnig the fact you wouldn't have just sat there and let a hail of bullets hit you)
  - A rifle round from McMillan's MP44 did however throttled into the driver's shoulder, knocking his body backwards against the seat from the force.
  

NEXT POST, WOLFRAM!
~Danny[/color]

Dang it! I totally forgot that the driver's side is the right, not the left, eh, oh well.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

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OOC: I’m very sorry Dr Vlakte, but I had to god-mode the driver pulling your convoy back, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to move. I was planning on crossing the bridge, but seeing as enemies are on both sides and you’re a medical unit, I don’t want to get you guys killed. Be a bit hard pushed otherwise.

“HEILIGE SCHEISSE!” screamed out the Sturmbannführer as his pearly blue eyes gouged open wide, watching as a bunch of uniformed men began to run and sprint off into different directions, then a vehicle backed up almost instantaneously into their direction, followed by the almighty roar of the 30.Caliber Machinegun being spit-fired right into their direction. Sturmbannführer Wolfram immediately dropped his head and ducked, yelling out “STEIGEN Sie, herunter STEIGEN Sie herunter!”, his hand throwing out some as he grabbed at the driver’s tunic, yanking him down, but glass had already began to scatter inwards onto them and the Sturmbannführer listened as Schwarz cried out in pain, as glass cut across his face, then the apparent sound of assault rifle fire opened up and the young man thumped backwards in his seat, crying out even louder as he clutched onto his shoulder in sheer agony.

The Sturmbannführer felt the halftrack rolling forwards slowly, as Kurt Schwarz had released his foot from the break pedal, the hand-break not engaged. Gasping for breath almost, from leaning completely forwards and feeling his lungs being squashed closed, he looked up over the dashboard slowly and watched as the pathetic Allied assault seized and diverted off into different directions, it was too risky to move through the town, they could have A.T weapons or explosives at the ready for when they passed - who knew how long they’d been there to set up defences! Leaning over Schwarz who cradled his shoulder in pain, the Sturmbannführer leant up and began thumping on the roof of the halftrack, yelling out “SCHIESSEN Sie SIE, SCHIESSEN Sie SIE! Sie TÄUSCHEN!” he nervous gunner must’ve been new to Sturmbannführer Wolfram’s Division, as any of his other soldiers would’ve opened fire ages ago!

The MG42 Suddenly became ablaze, the narrow eyed soldier behind the weaponry leaning into it as he pointed it off into the very thin and sparsely placed trees, aiming towards a whole group of figures sprinting, before catching a glimpse of something shiny passing between the trees - quickly redirecting his fire and inhaling quickly for another bale of breath to hole, he swivelled the gunnery around a little and began to shoot at the jeep, gritting his teeth as he felt the machinegun kick harder than his father! Ramming and juddering against his shoulder bone.

Unterscharführer Herman Heinrich jumped out of his seat in the back of the Halftrack and dropped down beside the radioman, quickly acting on impulse as he ordered “Rufen Sie unser Reich Hauptquartier! Informieren Sie sie, dass wir engagiert werden!”[/I] he said firmly, but more calmer than their commanding officer. Tapping the man on the helmet, as if to reassure him, he moved quickly to the back of the halftrack and stepped up onto the small ridge Gerwulf had stood on earlier, looking over to the convoy behind to shout out “Bewegen Sie zurück! Bewegen Sie zurück!”[/I], as if reading the Sturmbannführer’s mind, the halftrack began to rear up a little. Sturmbannführer Wolfram was leaning over the injured driver, pushing his foot down between his legs to push the driver’s foot onto the acceleration, having moved the gear into reverse. The Halftrack began to move back, the Sturmbannführer checking his wind mirror constantly as he watched the convoy behind move back, they must’ve seen him trying to reverse… It was wise they reformed, with an injured man and unknown enemies inhabiting the town, they could hastily be running to their deaths!

Reversing it back just enough, to get off the bridge, he leant over and shoved open the driver’s door, shouting out “Steigen Sie aus!”, the halftrack’s back doors swung open and the men all jumped out immediately, the Unterscharführer slapped the Gunner on the back, as if telling him to stay, as all the others rallied up around the side of the halftrack - the Unterscharführer pushed Schütze Hans to go help the Sturmbannführer “Gehen Sie Hilfe Sturmbannführer Wolfram! Schnell! Rest von Ihnen, auf mir! Wir halten diese Brücke!”[/I] he shouted out, running towards the nearest defensive objects, happening to be a bunch of crates, the other’s following as they all slumped down against it, watching as their Sturmbannführer and Schütze Hans carried the wounded Driver beneath their grasps off towards the nearby building and medical convoy, the Radioman quickly following them as he went to report to the commanding officer, talking down the mouthpiece of the radio equipment at the same time.




Translations:[/b]

HEILIGE SCHEISSE!
~ HOLY SHIT!

STEIGEN Sie, herunter STEIGEN Sie herunter!
~ GET DOWN, GET DOWN!

SCHIESSEN Sie SIE, SCHIESSEN Sie SIE! Sie TÄUSCHEN!
~ SHOOT THEM, SHOOT THEM! You FOOL!

Rufen Sie unser Reich Hauptquartier! Informieren Sie sie, dass wir engagiert werden!
~ Call our Reich Headquarters! Inform them that we are being engaged!

Bewegen Sie zurück! Bewegen Sie zurück!
~ Move back! Move back!

Steigen Sie aus!
Get out!

Gehen Sie Hilfe Sturmbannführer Wolfram! Schnell! Rest von Ihnen, auf mir! Wir halten diese Brücke!
~ Go help Sturmbannführer Wolfram! Quick! Rest of you, on me! We're holding this bridge!

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

Oh wow, I think Wolfie's got big plans. Following Actions have been made;

CPT. Wolfram:

• Shooting into the nearby brush towards CPT. Brentwood's men (the bulk squad), the MG42 ripped through PVT. Grove's Legs, knocking him completely off the ground as he was running. The bullets entered 'both' legs and exited, causing large flesh wounds.
  
  - Without Medical Treatment, in the next few posts, PVT. Grove will pass unconsious due to the searing pain and perhaps blood loss.
  
  
• Shooting towards the jeep as-well, the bullets clicked and clunked against the exterior, causing bullet holes, but due to the position of the jeep between the trees, most of the bullets caught the wood upon it's travel, sparing the inhabitants within the jeep.
  

NEXT POST, DR. VLAKTE!
~Danny[/color]

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

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OOC: I don’t mind, Wolfie. I was going to back up anyway. Do what you think is right to win. We really can’t let them have the battle because they control an entire side of a river.
I’ve also changed the character symbol colours a bit since they were so pixelated. Though the map looks the same for the most part.

Doctor Vlakte was suddenly thrown from his near-dream state-of-mind when he heard a loud voice yell out, “HEILIGE SCHEISSE!” then guns started firing. Doctor Vlakte recognised the cracking sound of the .30 calibre machine-gun in the distance. Dieedrik heard more shouting from the half-track as the familiar sound of an MP44 screeched from across the stream. It was followed by more yelling and the gunner on the Wolfram’s halftrack began firing, surprisingly late in Dieedrik’s mind. As he fired, Unterscharführer Heinrich stood up in the back of the half-track and yelled over the MG42 to the driver to move back. Doctor Vlakte could feel the adrenaline pump as he began yelling the same thing to Private Kutscher, “Zurückziehen Sie, jetzt. Gehen Sie, gehen Sie.” The convoy truck began backing up and turned to the right, bringing the back of the truck to a tree.

As the convoy truck moved back, Doctor Vlakte saw the half-track go back as well. There must have been many enemies if Wolfram wanted them to stay on this side of the bridge. The half-track backed up and stopped. The back door opened and the squad jumped out of the back of the armoured vehicle. Schütze Hans went to the driver’s side of the half-track as the door popped open and he dragged out the body of the driver unceremoniously. Doctor Vlakte turned back to the men in the convoy truck. “Recke, Schuster, Friedhold, geht ihr Hilfe Schütze Schwarz. Bringen er zu das Baulichkeit da drüben,“ he said pointing to the building directly behind the convoy truck, “Schumacher, Scherbaum, richteten ein Operationstisch in da. Und Sie, Kutscher, hilfe sie mit die Arbeiten.“ Doctor Vlakte jumped out of the convoy truck with a vigour that was previously unknown to him. He went into the back of the convoy truck and collected all the drugs and operating instruments. He noticed the stretchers had already been removed as he turned back and began running toward the building behind the convoy truck.

Schütze Recke, upon hearing the Doctor’s orders, jumped out of the truck with Schuster and Friehold. He got a stretcher and the three of them ran over to the half-track. The door was open. They dragged out a wounded Schwarz and pulled him onto the stretcher. Schütze Friedhold took out a packet of sulphur powder, ripped it open, and poured the white crystalline onto the wound in Schwarz’s shoulder as the three Germans picked up the stretcher and quickly brought it through the other German soldiers to the building next to the vehicles. They entered and found that doctor Vlakte was already there. Meanwhile, Schumacher and Scherbaum, had already gotten a stretcher and brought it into the building. Schumacher left the room and rushed around the building, staying low and adjusting the red-cross armband on his arm, hoping the allies would not shoot at him. He collected a crate from in front of the building and ran with it back into the building. The doctor was there by now as was the patient.

The walls of the building were made of a thick wood, perfect for protection from bullets. Doctor Vlakte hurried into the far end of the building and opened his medical kit. As he opened the surgical bag, Recke, Schuster, and Friedhold brought in Schütze Schwarz on a stretcher. Schumacher then rushed in with a crate and set it on the floor. Doctor Vlakte already understood the procedure. He ordered Friedhold, Recke, Schuster, and Schumacher to go back and get the crated to make an operating table, reminding them to also place some of the crates in front of the far window so stray bullets couldn’t come into the building. Scherbaum stayed behind to help prepare the patient for surgery.

Doctor Vlakte looked down to Schütze Schwarz. He had a deep bullet wound in his left shoulder. There was no exit wound, so he would have to remove the bullet. The Doctor then pulled out a syringe and injected morphine into the poor man’s blood-stream; he fell into a deep drug-induced sleep and the other soldiers arrived with the crates to make an operating table. They quickly stacked the large wooden boxes and placed the stretcher with Schütze Schwarz onto the crates. Doctor Vlakte prepared for surgery, handing his white medical bag to Friedhold to give him the instruments he asked for.

Translations:
“Zurückziehen Sie, jetzt. Gehen Sie, gehen Sie.”
~Back up, go, go!!

“Recke, Schuster, Friedhold, geht ihr Hilfe Schütze Schwarz. Bringen er zu das Baulichkeit da drüben,“
~ Recke, Schuster, Fridhold, go and help private Schwarz. Bring him to that building over there.

“Schumacher, Scherbaum, richteten ein Operationstisch in da. Und Sie, Kutscher, hilfe sie mit die Arbeiten.“
~ Schumacher, Scherbaum, set up an operating-table in there. And you, Kutscher, help with the work.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

Very well written post Dr. Vlakte Enjoyed reading that, as I do with all the big posters.
Following Actions have been made;

Dr. Vlakte:

• Successfully Inducing PVT. Schwarz, he is now stable and further treatment will prevent him from dying/falling unconcious dangerously (already induced with painkillers).
  
  
• If the bullet and wound is Successfully amended the soldier will be elligable to fight again (with obvious concequences of Drowsiness & Wound/s), otherwise, his life is saved - assuming Dr. Vlakte's proceedure pulls through.
  

NEXT POST, CPT. BRENTWOOD!
~Danny[/color]

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

i3.photobucket.com/albums/y65/Danny-Boy/battlemapwithbrentwood-2.jpg

“Huuuurggghhh!”[/b] Screamed out Private Grove, as his legs were ripped through by the MG42, causing his body to stumble forwards a few steps, before he suddenly couldn’t hold the motion of his heavy body, hitting the dirt beneath him with one heavy gruff of a thump. Sergeant Alexander was quick to react, as he yelled out “GET DOWN, GET THE FUCK DOWN!”, his hand reaching out for one of the privates, as he grabbed the male by the gruff of his uniform to tug down into the dirt alongside him, all the other’s doing the same almost immediately the moment they realised heavy gunfire was strafing over their heads.

Captain Brentwood’s eyes widened a little as he watched the MG42 on top of the halftrack twist into their direction, opening up fire onto them through the brush and trees. Private Belsing on the 30.Cal dropped down, knowing there was hardly any time to react with fire, but Captain Brentwood didn’t blame him for dropping off the gun, as after-all, he was the most exposed on the jeep. Liam Grabbed the Comms Officers by his webbing and pulled him away from the door, as bullets nipped and clunked at the exterior. “Argh! Those bloody Jerry bastards!” he spat out angrily, flinching a little from his slouched down position in the car as a stray bullets loudly zipped across the top of his head. The Captain was incredibly tempted to throttle the gas and drive out of the line of fire, but he knew Private Belsing on the back would’ve been thrown from the moving jeep in the process - thankfully, the burst of fire subsided and the Captain remained silently still for a brief moment, feeling the Comms Officer Wattts, breathing deeply against him from being huddled into the Captain.

“Everyone Okay!?” he shouted out some, too cautious too move for the moment, just encase they decided to do another bout of fire to finish any moving victims off. Private Belsing slowly leaned up and looked towards the Captain, nodding some, whilst Jordan Watts seemed to embarrassingly sit straight again, breathing deeply from the nerves, but then Sergeant Alexander a few yards behind shouted out “We’ve got a Man-Down Sir!” Liam quickly sat up and looked off behind the jeep towards the men all on their stomachs still, two of the soldiers crawling over to wounded Private Grove, dragging him back towards some cover. “Ruddy bastards! Okay, Sergeant! Get in that building over there, try and signal to Delta Squad of their status and get some fire on that bloody Halftrack!” the Captain Shouted out some, watching as Sergeant Alexander called back “Yes Sir!”, the Captain turned towards Jordan Watts and grabbed the phone from his back, shoving it into his chest to bellow out “I want some fucking Artillery, now get on it Watts!” he ordered harshly, causing the young Radio Man to nod worriedly and begin winding up the gear for another call. Whistling back to Private Belsing to get his attention, he pointed to the gunnery and spat out “Shoot any ruddy bugger that move” - Liam was fuming, he wasn’t in the mood to play games.

Changing the gear, he hit the accelerator and sped up a few meters towards an opening, yelling “Shoot em’!” - Private Belsing twisted the 30.Cal around and held the trigger down, throttling off a large burst of bullets towards the house and crates, in hope to kill or wound anything he saw. A few men wandered around the front, grabbing crates? But Private Belsing didn’t have enough time to hit them, as they were already gone before he turned the gunnery around. As far as the Captain was concerned, they were all soldiers on the other side of the river, nothing less or nothing more. After a long burst of fire, the Captain hit the acceleration again and turned the jeep off towards the nearby road, knowing they were much better off to keep moving and making small assaults - practically using the advantage of their speed wisely.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Alexander shouted some at the men to get moving, he knew it was his duty to look after the boys. “C’mon, carry Grove to that building! Let’s go lads!”[/I] he reassuringly bellowed out, watching as two of the young soldiers carried the wounded and disorientated soldier towards the building. Running up to it, he thumped his rifle into the windows, knocking the shards of glass from off the ledge. “Climb in, Climb in!”[/I] he ordered, knowing if they took the doorway entrance, the Halftrack would have them nailed. The men climbed in quickly, leveraging the wounded soldier in quickly, resting him against the wall and beneath the window. “Stay with us son!” murmured the Sergeant as he tapped Private Grove on the shoulder, before moving into the room and pushing some of the furniture over, encase they needed any better protection. “Man the windows boys!”[/I] he said in mid sentence to breaking the window he was stationed at, lunging his rifle out of the broken glass, aiming towards the Halftrack’s front tire to pop off a round, a fellow soldier doing the same, as he fired one quick shot towards the Halftrack’s front tire, before reloading and taking another pot shot. Then, the Sergeant noticed a huddled group of moving figures behind some crates, turning his rifle towards their general direction, he took aim and fired a shot, reloading hastily to take another quick shot in hope to hit one of the moving figures.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

CPT. Brentwood:

• Pulling up towards a small clearing (Not exactly in the line of fire towards many enemies), the firing from the 30.Cal has suppressed the enemy some and Surprised them!
  
  - Firing from an angle/location towards the enemy from the woodlands, the firing has startled them somewhat, but hasn't incurred any enemy casualties.
  

[NPC/s] SGT. Alexander & Squad:

• Successfully moving out of the line of fire and into the nearby building, facing the bridge, PVT. Grove may rest; due to his injuries however, on both legs, he's losing blood rapidly and needs medical attention, immediately.
  
  
• SGT. Alexander shooting a shot towards the halftrack, missed the tire, as it dented the exterior.
  
  - Shooting another two bullets towards the nearby enemy, huddled behind crates, the first bullet narrowly missed the hiding soldier, as it broke a chunk of wood from out of the crate, whilst the second cut across the private's side, ripping his uniform and slicing through his flesh, causing a flesh wound.
  (You may name the soldier wounded, due to the fact I'm unsure who's in that position?)
  
  
• PVT. [Soldier/Unkown - Brentwood may name one], shooting from the window of the small building towards the halftrack, in hope to hit the tires, has caused no real significant damage. The Halftrack was purposely built for frontal battle, so the bullets nipped and chunked at the protective exterior.
  

NEXT POST, MCMILLAN!
~Danny[/color]