Roar of Panzers (Erdmann)

[Jonas Merhoff]

The roar of the tank engines dominated Merhoff's ears, as he casually relaxed in the passenger seat of a fast-moving Kubelwagen. The small line of vehicles were moving fast down an isolated road in Cyrenaica, only a minor cog in the German war machine. The Afrika Korps soldiers that were taking part in the were now heavily involved in Rommel's first major push through the African deserts. Fresh from France, Merhoff found himself oddly under the leadership of Erwin Rommel once more. A quick and glorious victory in Africa was crucial to the war effort, as Germany's blitzkrieg victories of 1940 and 41 were seemingly fading away. To be pushing through Cyrenaica towards Egypt was no easy feat and the morale of the German troops was high.

Cutting swiftly across the Libyan landscape was a convoy of high speed German armor. A group of six Panzer IIIs were moving together as if a pact, accompanied by a few troop carrying vehicles. Two Kubelwagens were in the center of the straight formation, highly protected by the elements of armor surrounding them. The jeeps were carrying officers and other vital personnel in their trek through the Libyan desert. In Merhoff's Kubelwagen, he was accompanied with a driver as well as a second officer, who held the rank of second lieutenant, as well as a senior NCO. The second Kubelwagen held only two men as well as a mounted MG34 in the passenger seat. Both men held an NCO rank and were merely there to utilize the swift capability of the jeep as well as the firepower strapped in front of the passenger of the vehicle.

A convoy truck trailed behind the armor, carrying about two squads of German soldiers. Most of the men among the jeep were from a medical detachment who were being "escorted" by the armor. Scattered among the tops of the Panzers were some soldiers as well, bringing the strength of the convoy to about two platoons worth of soldiers. The situation felt quite dangerous though and the Hauptmann felt extremely exposed out in the open desert. The infantry, armor, and medics all had the same destination. A small Libyan town near the borders of Egypt that was still offering some stiff resistance from the British occupiers. Merhoff sighed as he tightened the desert scarf he wore around his, nervous as the armor rolled down the African road.

In the back seat of the vehicle, a Leutnant was holding on to a large detailed map of North Africa stretching from Morocco all the way to Egypt. The man was struggling to hold and read the map as the Kubelwagen sped down the road, kicking up clouds of sand and win which in turn beat the map downwards much to the Leutnant's disappointment. The young man, who had first served alongside Merhoff in France as part of Rommel's "Ghost Division" the 7th Panzer Division, was attempting to read the map as part of a heated debate with Merhoff on the strategy they should be pursuing in the African war. Rudolf Siegfried Marseille, the French-Huguenot Leutnant, believed that a lightning fast offensive was key to victory in North Africa while Merhoff disagreed.

Although, a German occupied North Africa could also then mean a German occupied Middle East, the Hauptmann disagreed with such offensive tactics. Too quick of an attack would simply lead to overextended supply lines and a weakened German force, leaving the Afrika Korps vulnerable to counter-offensives. Merhoff believed that slow and steady would win the race, while Marseille thought a Blitzkrieg win in Africa was vital to the war. Serving in the 7th Panzer Division had opened Merhoff's eyes to new speed and surprise tactics, but ultimately he did not see such tactics fit for the Afrika Korps. Marseille gave up the fight with the Hauptmann once the map blew out of his hands, landing in the face of a few overheated soldiers hanging off a Panzer III.

[Erdmann Hoesslein]

Erdmann was the leader of the Medical Platoon, being attached to Merhoff's armor. They were going to be escorted to the Libyan town, but the medics were going to stop, setting up a field hospital that was going to save many lives. It was an honor in Erdmann's eyes, to serve under Merhoff. He was an amazing leader, one of the best strategists, and knew his way around the most difficult situations. But Erdmann simply kept his hands on the wheel, rolling up and down the sand dunes while the African sun laid overhead in the sky. Most of the assistants of Erdmann were in numerous other jeeps, and a squad was in the convoy truck.

The loud roaring engines of the tanks could be heard from probably a mile away, with their long barrels looking intimidating and menacing at the same time. They were powerhouses, who were not to be messed with. They were a symbol of strength, having everyone fear them. The sand kicked up into the air, leaving small clouds in their wake. The rubber tires imprinted the sand with visible tracks.

"Corporal Edgar, stay sharp on that machine gun. After I get to my destination, take the rest of the squad and move on. Make your orders clear, and do not falter. I have much faith in your abilities, do not let it be badly placed," noted Erdmann, having a calm tone and sweaty face. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, having his handkerchief in hand.

"Yes Sir, I will not let you down," replied Edgar as he held the Machine gun with a firm hand. The sun didn't bother him much, as he was able to see much of the landscape. The engines began to roar even louder, and soon the wind flowed with the sands riding it like a butterfly. They were prepared for anything, as they were the Afrika Korps.

[Jonas Merhoff]

It was nearly the middle of April of 1941 and miraculously Rommel and his men had nearly captured Cyrenaica. When the German troops were sent to reinforce Libya in early 1941, no one had dreamed that the dismal task of defending Libya would soon turn into a successful German-Italian offensive. Only Tobruk would not yield to the German might in Africa, but the advance still continued past the highly fortified coastal city. The long line of armor and vehicles had Fort Capuzzo near the Libyan-Egyptian border as a destination. Sent south from Bardia, they were to capture the fort with ease before making the push into Egypt. Victory tasted sweet, but Merhoff was uncertain if they were taking it the right way. After all, what had initially meant to be a defensive force had turned into a high speed assault.

Marseille was a bit of a troublemaker. He had a reputation of being a bit of a rebel, a joker, and a ladies man. The young boy came from a wealthy family, hence his holding of a Leutnant rank. A rank which a lot of his fellow officers deemed he did not deserve. A lot of the enlisted men gave him trouble for his French ancestry, not wanting to serve under such a man even though his family had fled France after the wars of religion in the late 17th century and been loyal to Germany since they settled in Prussia. The young, inexperienced officer had been fortunate enough to find himself under Hauptmann Merhoff who had "leashed" the boy and his rebellious attitude to some extent. Marseille followed Merhoff with dedication and loyalty, obeying every and any order. "Mit dieser Rate sind wir in Russland durch Christmas! " Marseille spoke to the NCO beside him, Unteroffizer Joachim Wolf more to annoy Merhoff than to spark conversation.

Wolf was one of Merhoff's most trusted men, who was often seen accompanying the Hauptmann wherever he went. Many had dubbed Wolf as Merhoff's bodyguard, which felt his personality well. The man was large and intimidating and was classified as a "strong, silent" type. Wolf was even more loyal to the Hauptmann than the young, cocky Leutnant seated next to him having served with Merhoff in Poland and France. There were rumors within the enlisted ranks that Merhoff had even served with Wolf's father in the Great War over 20 years ago. A Stabsgefreiter by the name of Johann Stumpf, who was the gunner in the second Kubelwagen, was the mastermind behind any type of nickname or joke about either Wolf, Merhoff, or other man in the unit. Stumpf was a young soldier who was worse than Marseille and well-known for his humor and charm. Once the class clown, he was now the division clown.

The Unteroffizer ignored the Leutnant's words and glanced at some large mountains in the distance. There was a bend in the road as the road curved between some medium sized mountains and dunes. To the right of the short column of vehicles were some sand dunes, one in particular over twenty some feet high. The front of the eleven vehicles made it past the curve well, but suddenly there was a roar of life. Heading the small convoy were three of the six Panzer IIIs which were then followed by some jeeps and light armor. Behind the third Panzer was a halftrack, then Merhoff's Kubelwagen, another halftrack, and the second Kubelwagen with an energetic Stumpf messing with the MG34. The second group of three Panzer IIIs followed after the Kubelwagen and a medical truck holding about two squads worth of medics followed behind the convoy, with a red cross painted on the side.

As the first halftrack made it past the bend in the desert road, there was movement to the right of the convoy among the dunes. From behind the large sand dune, which ran parallel to the curve in the road, two British lorries appeared. One of the lorries appeared to the south of the large dune, near the mountainous terrain that ran along the right hand side of the road. The second lorry, appeared to the north between the large dune and a second, smaller dune closer to the curve in the road and the middle of the formation. Both of the vehicles were serving as a portee to the British 2 pounder anti tank gun, carrying the gun on the back. Out from their concealment, the lorries drove in reverse so that the blast shield protected the crew against any small arms fire.

The two guns were ready to fire as their carriers came to a halt in the sand. The southern most lorry's 2 pounder shot first, it's round quickly piercing the side armor of the tank. Within seconds, the crew had loaded in a second round and fired to assure the tank's destruction. Further north, the second 2 pounder destroyed the first Panzer III of the second panzer group in a similar fashion. Unfortunately for the anti tank crew but fortunately for the Germans, the weapon didn't have a shot at the other two Panzers. The scene slowly faded into chaos as German troops piled off of the tanks, halftracks, kubelwagens, and truck as the British infantry opened fire on them. Along the top of the larger dune, about a platoon or more of commonwealth soldiers opened fire on the small convoy. The second, smaller dune was positioned northeast of the platoon with a view of the convoy's rear. Behind the second dune was about two squads of British who were opening fire with two water-cooled Vickers machine guns.

Merhoff dove out the side of the vehicle, having to push the driver out of the way who had been killed by British fire. Both Wolf and Marseille managed to flee the Kubewagen safely as well, finding refuge on the opposite side of the road. Most of the Afrika Korps soldiers instinctively found cover against the depression along the side of the road and quickly began to return fire at their attackers. As Merhoff glanced around, he realized that the British's initial assault didn't go so well. Only two tanks had been knocked out and a large portion of the Germans had managed to get to cover. The armor and halftracks were turning to face the sand dunes as well, in hopes of suppressing the enemy. "Auf mir! Auf mir!" Merhoff roared, causing some of the soldiers to group near Merhoff. For the most part, the men continued to stay in cover aside the road, but now waited expectantly for their Hauptmann's orders.

Translations:

- "At this rate, we will be in Russia by Christmas!"

- "On me! On me!"

[Erdmann Hoesslein]

Looks like Erdmann wasn't the only one when he saw British tanks and infantry coming down from the hills, as the Panzer tanks began firing and commencing some evasive maneuvers. The medics began to start pouring out of the convoy truck, along with the rest of the squad under Erdmann's command. But it wasn't his duty to go into the front lines, so Erdmann made a sharp left turn to go off of the road to safety. Edgar jumped out, and then got up on his feet as he used the tanks as cover. He was moving up slowly, but Erdmann and the other medics were on standby, having their ears ready to hear the call of duty.

"Don't drop your medical bags, keep everything sterilized and make sure to have a steady hand. Set up a field hospital, with different stations. The more severe the injury, patch it up. If it seems impossible, give them morphine and send them off their merry way. Focus on letting them live, not getting them back into battle!" ordered Erdmann immediately. Everyone was on their stomachs at the tip of a ditch, but soon they moved out and began getting a tent up. Several more medics began to appear, quickening the process of getting a suitable place to work.

Now the place was protected from the sun, the equipment was starting to come in. Stretchers were placed in the back of the convoy truck, that was hidden on the side of the road. Now the battle was heated, with the british tanks exploding and the loud cries was raising morale.

"August and Deltev! Give us covering fire! Immo and Erpo, take the left side while me, Traugott and Gottfried take the middle! Use the grenades effectively and to stay close to cover!" commanded Edgar as he moved up the line along with the other soldiers. But they were greeted with machine-gun fire, that was soon put the rest thanks to August and Deltev. Hitting the sand, Edgar went prone. It kicked up here and there, but it didn't stop them for long. They soon stopped and took defensive positions as stated by Merhoff, readying a grenade as Edgar pulled the cord. Waiting two seconds, he threw the stick grenade far as it flew through the air and landed before exploding. A british soldier went flying with his legs blown off, and another one had died quickly by having a shrapnel penetrate his skull.

The Vicker Machine-guns were laying down serious fire, and all advancement had been stopped. The PDR trucks destroyed some of the tanks, about two were lightly damaged and working fine. The LMGs of the British were tough, and had deadly accuracy. Many of the men were dying off quickly, simply dropping to the floor. As under the command of Erdmann, if they could find an injured soul, it was their job to bring them back to the Medical Platoon. Soon enough, they were pouring on and on.

"Medics! Prepare for a massive wave of wounded!" shouted Erdmann, as all the medical equipment was set out and sterilized. The covering fire from Traugott, Gottfried, August and Deltev allowed Edgar to pick up an injured Sargeant that had been shot in the leg. Picking him up, Edgar ran as fast as he could while having bullets whizzing above his head. But soon, he had reached the ditch and placed the man on a table where Erdmann and the rest of the medics got to work. More and more injured men came, most died before even getting there.

Edgar got behind a tank for cover, and started to fire again. All hell had broken loose.

But luckily for most of the infantrymen, the defense was going to go much smoother now, and it excited Erdmann to be near such an heated battle. He was helping the injured soldiers get back home alive to the fatherland, but he still didn't believe in the crazy Nazi ideas. Nor did he really like anyone that would go back into the war if they had a chance to go home. His mind was all over the place, but soon he took out some sulfa powder as he put some of it on the leg wound.

Then, he took out a clean knife, taking out the bullet with some difficulty. After that, a dressing was pressed hard to stop the bleeding until wrapping it up tightly with a bandage.

[Jonas Merhoff]

The first Panzer tank was a wreck of burning metal and smoke along with it's wrecked comrade further down the line of vehicles. However, the other four medium tanks were set into motion and began to face their new prey. Within moments, the lorries carrying the 2 pounder guns were destroyed by German shells. There most have been some disappointment in the British troops, who only managed to take out two of the six armored tanks. However, the British refused to give up the will to fight despite having no way of destroying the Panzers. Heavy MG fire rained down enfilade fire from the Vickers gun's positions, while the platoon that was dug in atop the large dune laid down their own fire on the convoy. The long barrels of the Panzer's 5 cm cannons turned to face the dunes now, the small arms fire doing nothing to penetrate the German armor.

The medics had poured out of the medical truck and set up a medical tent further away from the battle, seeking cover in the mountainous terrain to the east. The truck had been converted to an ambulance of sorts and the medics worked hard to get the wounded out of the battle and a safe distance from the danger. The medical tent was set up as far away as they could get and still effectively transport wounded to. Merhoff glanced at the leader of the medical squad, a senior NCO Erdmann Hoesslein briefly, before he returned his attention to the fighting. He would allow Hoesslein to command his men and see to the wounded, chances were he was more skilled at it than Merhoff. The Germans who had begun to dig in along the side of the road looked at their Hauptmann expectantly, waiting for orders like loyal dogs.

"Wolf! Erfassen Sie eine Handvoll Gruppen, ungefähr Zwanzig Männer. Sie werden ein angrenzendes Manöver zum Süden der Düne mit der meisten Konzentration der britischen Truppen führen." Merhoff barked at the man, who was quickly on the way to gather his men towards the south before Merhoff grabbed him firmly by the shoulder. Swiftly, Merhoff slipped an old battered whistle he had scavenged from the Great War out from under his scarf and turned it so Wolf could see. Across the side of the whistle the surname "Wolf" had been etched. The Unteroffizer had heard the story a thousand times. Merhoff had once been but an enlisted soldier serving under Wolf's father in the first world war. The two men grew close, with Merhoff becoming extremely loyal to his commander, much like Wolf would to Merhoff one day. When the officer had died he had given Merhoff the whistle with the explicit orders of giving it to his son when he had "earned it".

It was an odd heirloom to be passed down, but the officer had received the scarred whistle from his father upon being commissioned as an officer. He wished for it to be given to his son when Merhoff deemed him worthy. Merhoff agreed to the dying man's last wish, obeying it like it was an order. It had always been a wish of the elder Wolf that his son follow a tradition of military service, but neither he nor Merhoff had ever expected that Unteroffizer would ever serve under Merhoff. Oh, how the tables had turned. Now Wolf looked questioningly at the whistle, aware that he had not yet lived up to his father's or Merhoff's expectations. Merhoff chuckled, "Nicht Nr. Es ist nicht über die Geschichte dieses mal. Sie sollen nicht die Gebühr bis uns bilden nehmen die Maschinengewehre und werden vorbereitet, sich anzugreifen. Und wie wissen Sie, wann das ist? Warum, wenn ich die Pfeife durchbrenne. Jetzt, gehen Unteroffizer."

"Ungefähr dreißig von Ihnen werden mit mir kommen. Der Rest von Ihnen wird hier bleiben. Wir werden die Maschinengewehre nehmen und von dort zur Hauptangriffskraft unter der Abdeckung des Panzers und der Halftracks voranbringen. " Merhoff gathered the men by first gathering several squad leaders, before setting off for the north. As they reached the end of the convoy, the infantry settled near two of the Panzer IIIs for cover as well finding cover against the side of the road. Merhoff, who had climbed on the back of the second tank shouted at the tank commander, "Legen Sie unterdrückendes Feuer auf jenen Vickers nieder! Wurf alles, das Sie an ihnen haben! Zerreißen Sie sie zu den Stücken!" The commander ducked down as Merhoff slid off the tank and returned to his men, waiting for the two tanks to cover their attack.

Translations:

- "Wolf! Gather a handful of squads, about twenty men. You are going to lead a flanking maneuver to the south of the dune with the most concentration of British troops."

- "No, no. It is not about the story this time. You are not to make the charge until we take the machine guns and are prepared to assault ourselves. And how will you know when that is? Why, when I blow the whistle. Now go, Unteroffizer."

- "About thirty of you will be coming with me. The rest of you will be staying here. We are going to take the machine guns and advance from there to the main assault force under the cover of the Panzers and halftracks."

- "Lay down suppressive fire on those Vickers! Throw everything you have at them! Tear them to pieces!"

[Erdmann Hoesslein]

Bullet shells were covered in blood and sand, as they were freshly taken out of the infantrymen by the Medic's steady hand and focused mind. The sun was still in the sky, as the fighting was still rather fierce and the casualties were beginning to mount up on both sides. But the British were taking some extremely heavy damage, the tanks blasting holes in their offensive line. Corporal Edgar and his men were making swift progress, as his men were soon under Wolf's command. They all went to flank a dune that was heavily concentrated with British fools. The German tanks were providing excellent cover as always, and soon the Vickers weren't firing anymore since if they took their head out, it would be a definite head shot.

"Equip bayonets! Close quarters might happen soon! Also, use your grenades, soften up their lines!" shouted Edgar as he equipped his bayonet. Then, he reloaded his gun with a new magazine before taking his original squad while with Wolf. August grabbed a grenade and waited for about two seconds, until he threw it as it landed around the dunes. As it exploded, shrapnel went flying everywhere. The line began to scramble,and the casualties were skyrocketing. As they came out of the safety of the dune, the German advancement open fired as they were obliterated. Hitting the floor, lying in a pool of blood.

But they fought back, causing the flanking to slow down a small bit. But from all of the fighting, wounded started to come to Erdmann. They were working around the clock, trying to save as much as lives as they could. The most common injury they had was bullet wounds, which were relatively easy to handle. But sometimes it was more serious, like an artery breaking. But, sulfa powder prevented it from infection and to close the wound took some stitching. To stop it from bleeding, the medics applied pressure to it with a sterilized dressing.

"Good job everyone! Keep up the good work! Make sure to keep all equipment sterilized, and you will be promoted soon enough!"

Erdmann gave good pep-talk, trying to raise morale as the medics were probably having a weird feeling in their stomach from seeing so much blood.

[Jonas Merhoff]

The Hauptmann licked his lips, partially out of anticipation and partially to to clear the sweat that was trickling down top his lips. He had previously rolled up the sleeves on his Afrika Korps tunic, showing off his defined, slightly tanned forearms. The African sun had burned his skin a shade of bright red briefly, but that dead layer of skin had peeled off into a bronzed tone which was becoming quite natural among the Germans in the 21st Panzer Division. He tightened a scarf he had managed to get his hands on in an African market back in Tripoli around his neck. His fingers slipped along the side of his M40 field and pulled the fabric further down on his head to shield his eyes from the sun's rays. Wrapped around the top of the cap, his goggles fastened the cap around his head.

As he prepared himself for the battle, he listened to the familiar sound of the Panzer's turret turning to face their target. Both the Panzer's machine guns opened fire across the dune at first, until the tanks began to unload shells at the dune. Sand was thrown up in the explosions and the Vickers machine guns were forced down below the sand to take cover from the ferocity of the German tanks. The flanking group to the south were able to make it across the road with ease and take cover behind the wrecked truck and its surrounding. Unfortunately, they drew the attention of the fortified platoon atop the dune who had been suppressed by the other Panzers as well. The British were more than happy to focus their fire onto their flanks instead and a gunfight erupted behind the two.

As Merhoff watched the two Panzer IIIs pound away at the Vickers teams, he raised slightly from the ground with his MP40 in his hand. To his side, Stabsgefreiter Stumpf picked himself up as well eager for a fight. Stumpf was more bloodthirsty than eager, but Merhoff ignored the man's foolishness. Merhoff's call for a charge roared over the thirty or so men. About half of the force split off and settled down near the Panzers upon Merhoff's orders, laying down some suppressive fire as well. The Vickers teams were being pounded into submission, but Merhoff did not wish to take man casualties today. Taking a nice, long flank around the dune, the German soldiers emerged nearly behind the dune to the suppressed Britons surprise. The riflemen dropped to their news and opened fire towards the British, while anyone with a weapon that was not bolt-action charged on into the fray.

The sixteen or so men who had been behind the dune fell with relative ease, inflicting little to no casualties on the flanking force. Merhoff signaled for his men to cease fire and redirected the two Panzers to open fire on the much larger dune, which looked as if it would fall apart any moment from the shell holes the Panzers had inflicted on the dune. The other half of Merhoff's force gathered behind the dune, in anticipation to a final pincer attack on the British who were now trapped along the top of the large sand dune. For a moment Merhoff contemplated moving the surviving Vickers machine gun, the other one deemed unusable due to shrapnel damage, into a better position. But, he knew the weapon was awkward to carry and set up and his men were not experienced with the weaponry. "Stumpf, sind Sie der neue Artillerist! Galland, sind Sie die neue Ladevorrichtung! Umfassen Sie unseren Angriff!"

Merhoff left behind a considerable amount of men behind with the Vickers machine gun as well, before moving the rest of the men behind the destroyed lorry. The Germans settled down near the lorry in whatever cover they found find, opening fire upwards to a demoralized and battered British platoon. Across the way, Wolf had positioned the other flanking group. Marseille, who Merhoff did not trust to lead the vital flanking maneuver, was left in charge of the on the road which had already been handled by the four Panzer II tanks. Slowly, the depleted British platoon began to get desperate and pour off down the dune. Merhoff's men had already prepared bayonets and were lobbing grenades in the charging/fleeing force.

He brought the whistle up to his lips and blew as hard as he possibly could. The whistle traveled the distance to Wolf's ear and simultaneously the two flanking forces emerged from their hasty fortifications and clashed with the river of British soldiers who were charging down the hill. The fighting became vicious and bloody as the Germans plunged their bayonets into the soldiers who stayed to hold the ground and fight and shot the ones that fled in the back. Merhoff got down on his knee and unloaded bursts of SMG fire into groupings of British soldiers. Some Germans died in the charge, but many more British fell. No British soldiers escaped. But those that lived were honorably taken prisoner.

Translations:

- "Stumpf, you are the new gunner! Galland, you are the new loader! Cover our attack!"

[Erdmann Hoesslein]

Merhoff and is men were ripping the fleeing British apart, as the lead bullets lodged themselves into their bodies. The advancement was going quite well, until they focused on Edgar's squad. Immo and Erpo opened fire, killing one of the soldiers who had a Bren LMG. Soon, they had to take cover behind one of the wrecked trucks. The Panzer tanks blasted the Vicker teams, allowing the infantrymen to make their attacks quicker and more efficient.

Thanks to the bayonets being already attached, the numerous squads engaged in close quarters combat. Edgar swung his gun around, slitting a throat and cutting an arm in the process. Soon, it was raining grenades as the British platoon scattered around even more, only to be met by bullets from the other side. It was the perfect tactic, even if they tried to retreat, they would die. If they tried to stay and fight, they would die. It was a win-win situation, and it filled everybodies face with glee.

Erdmann and the other medics were working on a man that had a bayonet wound on his arm. Taking a sterilized dressing, he applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. It wasn't bleeding alot, so Erdmann safely assumed that a main artery wasn't hit. Then, taking some sulfa powder, he spread it around the wound evenly to prevent infection. Afterwards, he gave the patient a shot of morphine before tidying up the wound and sending him to his merry way.

"I know everyones tired, but persevere. You will become as great as Merhoff someday if you work hard at it. Now, double-check your equipment to have them sterilized and check how many supplies you have left. The Convoy Truck has more inside, so if you are running low you can take some from their. But make damn sure not to contaminate the equipment, we do not need to lose all of our sterilized dressing."

[Jonas Merhoff]

The blistering heat of the African sun brought the Hauptmann to his knees, as he wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. Breathing heavily now, Merhoff raised his MP40 submachine gun up against his shoulder blade as he aligned the sites in his eyes. Holding the advanced German technology brought a sense of nostalgia over the Hauptmann. A familiar sense of being involved in a German storm trooper charge washed over him as the side of the dune erupted with explosions and gun fire. The feeling of a trench charge of the Great War filled the man's mind as he watched German soldiers slaughter countless British soldiers with their imperial bayonets. The MP40 felt like a MP18 once more in his hands as he brought charging Britons to their feet with the submachine gun fire.

Merhoff contemplated calling the charge off, but it was pointless now. He had risked lives with the bayonet charge and forced the cowering British to be gutted by his bloodthirsty men. Watching the chaotic scene with a disgusted look on his face, Merhoff's MP40 clicked empty. However, the Hauptmann did not reload the weapon. His eyes looked on past the bloody scene where various mountains were interspersed across the Libyan desert. His eyes studied the desert that still blocked their path to Egypt, with only limited vegetation or water along the way. The journey through Egypt would still be a rough one, if not impossible for the Afrika Korps. Merhoff doubted he would ever see the Suez canal within his lifetime, despite the desire of all the Afrika Korps to capture such a vital canal as well as Egypt and the Middle East.

Loading in another clip of ammunition, the vicious fighting had already come to an end. The German troops had taken limited casualties, most of which were inflicted in the initial chaos of the ambush. Lifting himself off from the searing sand, which had been heated by the sun's fierce glare, Merhoff hollered at the man gathered at the foot of the large sand dune, "Erfassen Sie das verletzte, das britisch oder deutsch, und holen Sie sie zur medizinischen Station. Unsere verletzten sollen zuerst behandelt werden, aber britische Gefangene werden mit dem gleichen Respekt in meiner Maßeinheit behandelt! " Germans began lifting their fallen brethren off from the sand and carrying them back to the medical tent, while also lifting the British they were eager to slaughter just moments before. With Merhoff keeping a watchful eye over the operation, no one wished to upset the Hauptmann.

Marseille, the Leutnant, came to Merhoff's side looking for conversation which Merhoff refused to give. Instinctively, Wolf was by Merhoff's side as well, ready and expectant of any orders from the Hauptmann. No such orders were given as instead, Merhoff continued to watch bloodied bodies and corpses lifting off the African sand and carried towards the medical tent who were most likely struggling to keep pace with the incoming wounded. The small armored and medical convoy was expected at Fort Capuzzo within the hour, but it was obvious they would not be arriving on time. Merhoff would see to it that all the wounded were treated and transported to the Italian fort. A daunting task because a number of the transport vehicles had been knocked out by the British 2 pounder guns.

Jonas Merhoff maneuvered through the now calm battlefield and began to climb up the large sand dune. Two men flanked him on his sides, Rudolf Marseille and Joachim Wolf. Reaching the top, there was a slight cheer and applause from the German soldiers gathered along the wrecked convoy. The Hauptmann who was now proudly standing atop the large dune symbolized the victory to them, but Merhoff did not take the action to raise morale. Instead, he observed his men from the raised position. Two of the Panzer IIIs had been knocked out and would have to be moved to the side of the road, they were useless to Merhoff now. One of the halftracks had been damaged in the ambush, but could possibly be repaired by an engineer. Two other tanks had been lightly damaged as well, but were still battle ready.

Translations:

- "Gather the wounded, British or German, and bring them to the medical station. Our wounded are to be treated first, but British prisoners will be treated with the same respect in my unit!"

[Erdmann Hoesslein]

The combat had stopped, as the German attack was a complete success. But there many casualties on both sides, causing some of the medics performance to slightly lower due to exhaustion. As ordered by Merhoff, Edgar and his squad began helping up the defeated British as they took them to the medical station. As the soldiers came one by one, they paid their respects to Erdmann before heading off to the main group to rest. Now, the medics did it at their own pace, not having to fix the injured immediately since they weren't under enemy fire.

Popping out shrapnel and bullet fragments out of the wounds is no easy job, nor is it easy to withstand that much bloodshed. The large burden of having a life in your hands was too much for some medics, as some simply couldn't take it. But Erdmann's mind was somewhat steering off-track, he was distracted by something that troubled him. As if he was forgetting something. But he shrugged it off while finishing up with one of the British Sergeants. Then, it was going to be all Germans until the rest of the British would be last. Prisoners of War were of course prisoners, and so it meant the winners would get the spoils. It intrigued Erdmann to see Merhoff's generosity to the British. Although he would never be able to command a platoon or company of his own, but maybe the medics could look up to Erdmann. It was just a thought, just a dream. But if you have passion, why not dream?

"Erdmann Sir, Edgar here reporting. The squad has not sustained any casualties, nor has anyone been wounded," said Edgar as he saluted.

"Very Good, I knew it was good to put you in charge. Now, go off to the main group. Use the half-tracks if you must. Please tell Captain Merhoff that the Medical Platoon should be ready for movement in about 5 minutes and that out of all of the men we have, 25% are casualties."

"Yes Sir!" said Edgar, complying with the order as he and the squad went to Merhoff to relay the news. The sand shuffled under their feet, and Edgar was happy to be praised. Now he knew that his efforts were paying off, and so he would try harder. With his men by his side, Edgar saluted Merhoff.

"The Medical Platoon is about ready for movement, as stated by the leader of the Platoon, Erdmann Hoesslein. He told me to report that out of all the men we have, 25% were casualties."

[Jonas Merhoff]

Slowly, Merhoff broke his gaze to the east, past the mountains and to where Egypt lie. Instead, he glanced at the two men by his sides before nestling down in the sand atop the cliff. Lifting his DAK field cap off his head, he set it down in the sand beside him. His bronzed hands ran through his fading, blond hair gathering sweat and dirt that constantly stained the hair. The Hauptmann was a mess, something only the most immaculate of the Afrika Korps could avoid in the burning heat of the desert. From his side, he fetched a canteen and unscrewed the cap, before gulping down a large portion of the water. Wolf and Marseille watched as Merhoff swallowed the water and wiped his lips off, before dumping some of the soothing liquid over his hair and face.

Refreshed, he fastened the cap on the canteen and returned it to it's rightful place before rubbing the water around his overheated face. "Wolf, erhalten einen Einfluss eines Radios. Geben Sie ihnen die Position der Toten, deutsch und der erfasst zu werden Briten. Ich würde unsere Männer tue sie selbst haben, aber ich habe Angst, dass wir weder die Zeit oder die Kapazität haben, so zu tun." The Unteroffizer gave a quick, firm "Jawohl!", before sliding down the dune and returning to the convoy. The absence of the Unteroffizer only left the French-Huguenot Leutnant with the Hauptmann. Quickly, Marseille sat down beside his superior and gazed off into the horizon where only millions upon millions of grains of sand lie. Merhoff continued to wipe the dirt and sweat off his face with the water and ran his fingers through his filthy hair in order to fix it.

There was a few moments of silence between the two officers, before Marseille finally questioned his superior's orders, "Herr Hauptmann, warum Sie solche Großzügigkeit in Richtung zu den Briten zeigen. Sind sie nicht unser Feind?" Sighing, the Hauptmann finished cleansing himself with his canteen water and lifted his field cap out of the sand. He shook it gently to remove any sand that clung to it, but getting sand out of anything was a near impossible task. Fixing the cap atop his head, he turned and looked at the young, eager boy. "Weil, Leutnant, dieses das Afrika Korps ist und dieses ist meine Maßeinheit. Wir zeigen Chivalry und Respekt in Richtung zu unserem Feind, sogar im Krieg. Wir sind nicht Kriegsverbrecher. Wir sind Herren." Merhoff explained, aware that the 21st Panzer Division had one of the cleanest records in handling POWs. "Herrsoldaten?" The Leutnant responded, bringing up some laughter from the Hauptmann which caused Marseille to laugh as well. "Ja Leutnant. Herrsoldaten."

Jonas watched the young Leutnant somewhat cautiously. He was are that the man was unruly and sometimes broke military discipline. Rumors went around that he would have never graduated from his military academy without the invisible hand of his parents ensuring it. But Merhoff was hard on his officers and sometimes ruthless towards them. He expected greatness from his officers and had little patience for failure or incompetence. Marseille had made it past the first few weeks, which ultimately meant the man was a good leader and trusted by the Hauptmann. But questioning the fair treatments of POWs did not sit well with Merhoff, who was harsh on soldiers he found mistreating enemy POWs. With a slight grunt, the Hauptmann lifted himself off from the sand tired from the previous excitement. Perhaps he was getting too old. But no, Merhoff brushed such thoughts aside.

The battle hardened German soldiers rested alongside the road now, the wrecked vehicles having been removed. Merhoff was approached by a Stabsgefreiter who saluted the Hauptmann. Merhoff returned with a traditional military salute, preferring it over a foolish Hitler salute. The Stabsgefreiter reported for the medical platoon's leader Erdmann Hoesslein that the medics would be ready to move out with the wounded in five minutes as well as the fact that there were 25% casualties. The news distressed the Hauptmann who had hoped to take less casualties. However, he understood that about 90% of the men killed were most likely killed within the first moments of the ambush and that a lot of men were saved from the British ambush. He sighed and gestured for the man to return to Hoesslein, "Sehr gut. Informieren Sie Hoesslein, dass wir heraus einmal seine Ärzte befördern und die verletzten bereit sind."


Translations:

- "Wolf, get a hold of a radio. Give them the location of the dead, both German and British to be gathered. I would have our men do it ourselves, but I am afraid we have neither the time or the capacity to do so."

- "Herr Hauptmann, why do you show such generosity towards the British. Are they not our enemy?"

- "Because, Leutnant, this is the Afrika Korps and this is my unit. We show chivalry and respect towards our enemy, even in war. We are not war criminals. We are gentlemen."

- "Gentlemen soldiers?"

- "Yes, Leutnant. Gentlemen soldiers."

- "Very well. Inform Hoesslein that we will move out once his medics and the wounded are ready."

[Erdmann Hoesslein]

Erdmann looked up a little bit over the road, seeing Edgar returning quite swiftly. Although 25% of casualties are of somewhat small, it still is a hard hit. Every little bit counts, and everyone knows this very well. The African Sun was very hot, the rays beating down the sand, as if it was crunching it into even smaller grains. The heat was bothersome, and such humidity made your body feel somewhat icky. After placing all of his equipment in the rather medium sized medical bag, Edgar used the traditional salute to acknowledge Erdmann.

"Merhoff said that we will move once the wounded and medics are ready Sir."

"Excellent. Luckily, most of the wounded can walk just fine on their own. Only about two or three will be taken along a stretcher in the back of the convoy. Start up the Jeep, we are done and ready to go."

"Yes Sir!" responded Edgar, having all of his squad to mount on the Jeep. After they all had made themselves comfortable, small talk began as they awaited for the Medical Platoon to add the final touches to be ready for transport. The medics have now patched up most of the wounded, and giving the dead a proper burial in the sand. They began sterilizing the equipment that had been used, and refilling their stocks of morphine and sulfa powder. Bandages were rolled up and scissors were cleaned with the numerous canteens of water that was there.

"Lets hope we hit an oasis soon. The water canteens could use a nice refill. MEDICAL PLATOON, MOVE OUT!" shouted Erdmann, as all of the medics jumped into the back of the convoy truck, with the stretchers and the wounded on them. They had done a good job for the day, as victory had just been tasted. Now bloodshed was just seen, more would soon follow.

[Jonas Merhoff]

The Stabsgefreiter lie up against the side of the Kubelwagen, Kar 98k gripped firmly in one hand. In the other, a dirty sand stained rag cleaned the remnants of blood off from his bayonet. The man's former blood lust and chaotic attitude towards the British had faded away as all that was left was a shell of a man cleaning the blood from his hands. As Merhoff approached his own vehicle, he stopped by the side of the dejected Stumpf who only glanced up to look at Jonas before looking down into the sand again. "Ich tötete einen Mann heute." Stumpf mumbled, attempting to hold back his tears. He released the Kar 98 rifle from his grasp, letting it settle in the sand beside him. Tossing the rag aside too, Merhoff caught a glimpse of the crimson blood staining his hands. He continued to hover over the Stabsgefreiter, without saying a word.

"Es war, nicht wie ich dachte, dass es sein würde. Ich dachte, dass ich töten wollte. Ich dachte, dass zu töten sein würde einfach. Es ist nicht einfach, a zu nehmen bemannt das Leben." Stumpf continued, despite the Hauptmann's silence. Some tears rolled down the German's cheek, but he quickly wiped them off with his forearm and dismissed the pain. He was careful not to smear any blood on his cheek. "Halten Sie heraus Ihre Hände." Merhoff commanded, reaching to his side to retrieve his canteen. Confused, the obedient Stabsgefreiter did as ordered and held his hands out before him. The Hauptmann unscrewed the cap on the canteen and poured a steady stream of water onto Stumpf's hands, rinsing off the blood. As he redid the lid on the canteen and placed it on his belt, he sat down beside Stumpf who moved over to allow Merhoff a seat by his side.

Gently, he removed his field cap and spoke to the mere boy now a soldier, "Krieg ist nicht einfach. Und Tötung ist nicht einfach. Alle wir werden durch unsere Fehler und Verbrechen frequentiert, aber wir tun, was wir vorbei erhalten müssen. Manchmal wenn wir für unser Land kämpfen, müssen wir töten." Stumpf nodded and gulped, looking away from Merhoff on the verge of tears again. "Ich versuchte, ihn zu speichern. Der Mann, den ich tötete. Aber ich erstach ihn zu viel. Zu viele Male. Ich wollte töten. Aber, als ich ihn speichern wollte, könnte ich nicht. Ich musste ihn aufpassen zu sterben. " Suddenly, another man appeared to fetch Stumpf. The Stabsgefreiter straightened himself out and got up onto his feet, saying a quick thank you to the Hauptmann who had comforted him and listened to his guilt. Stumpf disappeared down the convoy and Merhoff approached his own Kubelwagen, where a new driver awaited.

The Unteroffizer pulled the Hauptmann aside a few paces from the kubelwagen however. Apparently, he had important news. "Was ist es Wolf?" Merhoff inquired, curious as to what was so important to the man. "Herr Hauptmann, habe ich das Wort durch erhalten. Eine Maßeinheit wird geschickt, um die Toten und die ruinierten Träger innerhalb der Stunde zu sammeln." Jonas was startled he had nearly forgotten the orders he had only given minutes before, more concerned with his conversations with Marseille and Stumpf. Was his age really getting to him? Merhoff brushed aside the thought once more. "Ah, recht. Sehr gut, Unteroffizer. Bereiten Sie die Männer vor, sich heraus dann zu bewegen. Wir fahren zu Capuzzo fort! " With a quick nod, Joachim Wolf raced off to gather the battle-harden men and prepare them to move out.

The healthy men were forced to gather on the Panzer IIIs, giving their comfortable seats in the halftracks and truck up to the wounded. Even the British wounded were cared for more than them. Merhoff received some spite for such actions, but he ensured the wounded were all treated fairly and well. The "Desert Rats" already had many tales of his hospitality, so he had heard. In the passenger seat of his kubelwagen once more, Marseille and Wolf rested comfortably in the back. Marseille was relatively silent this time around, deep in his own thoughts. And Wolf, who was naturally silent, was silent once more. Merhoff pushed the whistle under his binoculars and beneath his desert scarf, before looking onward to the east. As the convoy roared to life and proceeded down the Libyan road, Merhoff looked on to the east. Where Egypt lie, beckoning for the Afrika Korps men.

Translations:

- "I killed a man today."

- "It was not like I thought it would be. I thought I wanted to kill. I thought it would be easy to kill. It is not easy to take a mans life."

- "Hold out your hands."

- "War is not easy. And killing is not easy. We are all haunted by our mistakes and crimes, but we do what we must to get by. Sometimes, when we are fighting for our country, we must kill."

- "I tried to save him. The man I killed. But I stabbed him too much. Too many times. I wanted to kill. But when I wanted to save him, I could not. I had to watch him die."

- "What is it Wolf?"

- "Herr Hauptmann, I have gotten the word through. A unit will be dispatched to collect the dead and wrecked vehicles within the hour."

- "Ah, right. Very good, Unteroffizer. Prepare the men to move out then. We continue to Capuzzo!"

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post:

CP:
Erdmann: 10CP

Merhoff: 12CP


~Dan