Work makes [Hautt] Free (Arbeit Macht Frei Pt II)

[Deleted]

OOC: Hopefully, this one will be a bit more calm and relaxed.

Friday, June 21, 1943.

Oswiêcim, Poland.

Hautt's eyes snapped open, and he groaned from his dirty wooden bunk as a record somewhere began playing 'Die Fahne Hoch', meaning it was time for the prisoners to wake and be ready for another day of hard labor. It was hard to believe that it was only two weeks ago that Hautt had arrived in Auschwitz, his hopes high, ready to begin work at his new post. It hadn't been long, however, that Hautt had found trouble, in the form of Obersturmführer Erik Schneider. Hautt had been in the line of new troop arrivals, and he had skipped line on front of a Wehrmacht Officer, albeit a Junior one. Hautt had thought nothing of it, but the officer had struck him, and in the following fistfight, nearly strangled the man to the point of him losing consciousness. Which was where Erik came in...

He had screamed and yelled at Hautt, making more of the issue than it was really worth, calling the both of them fools and children. Instead of forcing the men to apologize, and recite their oaths to serve German and all of its armed forces, as any cool-headed man would, Erik had continued the humiliation by putting them under armed guard. In the moments that followed, a Gestapo man by the name of Otto Wolff, Kriminalkommissar, had arrived and seemed to take delight in Erik's harsh words and punishment. While the two had chatted away, Hautt had seen fit to shout a few quick words to a young Finnish volunteer, and the results had been disastrous for Hautt. He was yet again screamed at, and had another week added to his already idiotic sentence.

He had been ready to protest, to kick and scream, to argue and to disrespect Erik, who had rendered the great injustice on him. Before he knew what was happening, though, he had a sock in his mouth and a wire wrapped tightly around his wrists. He was marched to the camp's barracks, and put in a cell with the Wehrmacht officer, who had cooled down and introduced himself as Ernst Remer, an Artillery Officer in the 26th Mechanised Infantry Division. They had just enough time to introduce themselves when a loud explosion had knocked Hautt, Ernst, Otto and Erik down, killing several SS soldiers and wounding at least a dozen, Kriminalkommissar Wolff one of the injured, taking a shard of wood into his thigh. Erik had ordered Hautt and Remer to grab weapons and to head to the womens camp, and that the sonderkommando's had revolted, attempting to blow the crematoriums and escape with as many prisoners as possible.

The fighting had been fierce, and Hautt had done his best, resulting in three confirmed kills, with the end result being a little over twenty SS soldiers dead, double that wounded. 39 Polish, and Hungarian Jews were killed, a small group commiting suicide in the oven rooms of crematoria IV, rendering the building unusable. Just as they had thought the episode over, more jews had revolted, cutting the wires of the 13-foot tall electrified fence, a few dying from the high voltage, but more making their way outside the fence, and into the woods beyond. A dozen had been captured, the three ringleaders shot and left in the dirty mud just beyond the fence, with only one escaping, believed to be wounded. Hautt had insisted on postponing his sentence a few days, just enough time to do what he had come to do, which was an assessment of an SS higher-up at the camp, report to Auschwitz' Commandant, before continuing his sentence.

It only took a few moments for Erik to beat the idea out of him, literally, and proclaim that he would do work detail first, and do his job later. He had been stripped of uniform, given jewish clothes and a bunk, and put to work with the jews, for two weeks.... until today.

Hautt groaned again and rolled out of his bunk, landing on the hard wooden floor with a loud *THUD*. Standing up, he brushed himself off and shuffled for the door, pushing others out of his way. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around him, where other, eye-rubbing, dirty, rag-wearing prisoners were waking, heading for roll-call as well. Friedrich yawned as he and the other 86 prisoners slowly formed a column, in no particular order. Already, a guard was calling names, squinting in the low morning light as he tried to read the foreign names. "Adamczyk, Adam, " The man called over a speaker. "Geschenk, " a man next to Hautt answered. "Adamczyk, Bartlomiej. " "Geschenk, " a voice called from the back row. This went on and on, with the guard calling a name, and the owner of the name answering. "Gorski, Jakub, " "Geschenk. " "Grabowski, Szymon, " "Gegenwärtig gelangweilt, " Szymon said, on the far right of the line, bringing a harsh gaze from the guard.

"Hautt, Friedrich, " "Geschenk, " he started in German, " i gotowe do podtykać że hałas animatora swój głupi tyłek," he finished, in Polish, bringing an uproar of laughter from the inmates, quickly stifled by a rifle firing into the air for silence. The guard, unable to determine where the voice had come from, gave up, and continued the roll-call, all the way from Jasiñski, Bazyli, to Zielinski, Zachariasz. Finished, the guard stomped off, and another walked foreward, MP40 in hand. "Um zu arbeiten! he shouted, and the thick column of prisoners sentenced to work duties breaking up, each person joining their own four-man group at their designated work stations. Hautt headed towards his station, at the rail platform Hautt had been fighting for barely two weeks ago. Seeing the three other men in his group already waiting for him, he ran to catch up, not saying a word but setting to work immediately.

His crew had a particularly nasty station. They unloaded various cargo from incoming trains. Many people back home would think, "Oh, you mean potatoes and bread, right?" Wrong. They unloaded axels of various heavy machinery needed on the Russian front. Berlin sent the pieces by train, where it was unloaded at Auschwitz and put on to another train, headed for a station not even twenty miles from Stalingrad, where the pieces were assembled and sent to the front, and to their ultimate destruction at the hands of the dirty russians. Hautt did not think about that, though. All he thought about, as he bent his knees to grab one corner of a 210-lb half-track axel, one of his partners, a Ukrainian by the name of Vyacheslav, grabbing the other corner. Heaving, Hautt and his partner carried the heavy load from the flatbed over, across the platform, to another flatbed, setting it with a loud *THUMP*, evenly with the stack from the day before, not quite filling the railcar to the limit. Turning, he headed back to the train to get another axel, his breathing steady as Vyacheslav grabbed the other side. A train could carry anywhere between twenty to eighty cars, each of them holding somewhere between 15-35 axels, depending on the size and weight. A train would come every three days, and whoever ran the camp expected every train unloaded before the next arrived. Hautt and his fellow workers, together, moved about 320 on a good day. On their best day, they had managed 400, but they were so worn out that their work had decreased the next day. From then on, they were told to keep their number below 400, for effeciency reasons.

With today being his last day, and with only four more cars to unload/reload, he allowed himself a quick thirty-second break, wiping the sweat off his brow and face with his dirty prisoner's cap, taking a deep breath before going to work once more, warmed up at last, still beaming on the inside that this was his last day in the godforsaken work detail.



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Translations:

"Geschenk, "
"Present, "

"Gegenwärtig gelangweilt, "
"Presently bored, "

"Geschenk, "
"Present, "

" i gotowe do podtykać że hałas animatora swój głupi tyłek,"
" and ready to shove that noise maker up your stupid arse. "

[Deleted]

OOC: Okay, every day I don't get a reply, I'm just going to go ahead and make another post, until Herr Schneider or Herr Wolff see a nice time to hop in. Effective tomorrow night, 8pm, Eastern Time.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: Woah, cool your jets there. Its been one day. Dieter said he had a plan for this and I am allowing him to post before me as I don't have much of an idea.

[Otto Wolff]

OOC: Sorry for the delay, had a long day yesterday and just couldn't bring myself to writing a post. Here it is now, though!


The last two weeks had been long and arduous for the Kriminalkommissar, who by now would have imagined finding himself in Berlin again, but instead was still stuck in Auschwitz. The mere presence and smell of the prisoners made him feel disgusted and he had to count himself lucky for not being one of the members of the SS who worked here all the time. Otto was wearing his uniform, now as spotless and impeccable as usually. A dark, long leather coat covered most of his uniform, mostly to shelter his clothing from any unwanted specs of dust or ash that might be flying in the air.

He certainly would have not expected to get tangled in the huge scandal that had taken place in Auschwitz just two weeks earlier. Otto had been lucky enough to survive an explosion which had taken the lives of a few guards and wounded many others, the Kriminalkommissar himself among one of them. Because Otto had found himself stubborn enough to go and take part in restoring order in the camp again, it had taken a small toll on his health. He had pulled out a wooden splinter from his leg and then proceeded to follow the men commanded by Obersturmführer Schneider around the camp. Even though the doctor who had treated him afterwards had been very skilled, the wound had taken it's sweet time to heal. Only now he found that he could walk almost normally again and the medication seemed to be working, leaving him with a small scar but no other visible memories of the wound.

Other complications had still followed after the explosion, as the loud sound had damaged Otto's left ear. He had still trouble hearing with the damaged ear and sometimes sudden attacks of horrible migraines appeared out of nowhere, making him nearly cry out in pain. Although the Kriminalkommissar disliked taking medication, he had resorted to taking some painkillers for the headaches so that he could at least concentrate on working properly.

Other than that, his stay at Auschwitz could have been worse. The food in the officer's mess was most excellent and Otto had nice enough room, although sleep was a luxury. The guards who were responsible for executions and other work that could take a toll on a person's mood, got some extra rations and would often spend a night drinking with other guards. Some of them had brought their families with them and they had separate housing near the camp. It would have certainly been charming if it had not been for the fact that thousands of Jews were killed in the camps nearby each day, the crematoriums spouting the remains of the prisoners in the air in the form of ashes.

Otto had spent his time in the camp with interrogating the prisoners responsible in the revolt and also with trying to arrange his way around the mounds of paperwork that inevitably followed. Otto's underling, Kriminalsekretär Brenner had arrived to Auschwitz to help Otto with the workload and Otto could only be thankful of the fact that the younger Gestapo officer had enough work so that he kept his mouth shut. Although Otto liked and trusted Brenner, the man could sometimes be a fountain of pointless blabber.

Right now Otto had a small task to take care of and he knew just the right people to assist him with it. The promising young Obersturmführer would surely find it a welcome change of pace to get out of the camp for a moment and he would most likely know which men would be the right ones to assist in the task. The Kriminalkommissar trusted Obersturmführer Schneider and quite liked the way the officer worked with giving out orders and maintaining discipline among his soldiers. Otto was not quite sure of where to find Schneider now, he had only received information that Schneider should have been somewhere around here, which did not help him much.

The tall man stifled a sigh as he tried to look for a familiar figure. He could see some prisoners working with loading heavy axels into one of the trains, headed for the Russian front. Otto's dark eyes narrowed as he pondered if one of those men was familiar to him and then the memory struck him. Indeed, it was Scharführer Hautt, the one who had received a good talking-to from Obersturmführer Schneider. Otto slowed down his pace for a while, remembering that the man had been a former member of the SD and had shown some talent for different languages. He might be an useful addition to the group of people the Kriminalkommissar needed, but Otto could not just drag the man away without Schneider's approval.

With a slight squint of his eyes, Otto continued his way towards the group of workers, all of them now atrociously smeared with axle grease from their work. He still kept looking for the Obersturmführer in hopes of spotting him, although he was already contemplating on sending a guard to look for Schneider to save himself from the bother of it.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

Cigarette in mouth, the menacing Obersturmfuhrer grimly watched over the roasted corpse. A crazed gypsy had hurtled herself full force into the thirteen foot high and electrified barbed wire fence. Her pale hands had been impaled by the sharp wire, trapping her as a high voltage lethally shot through her body. The pain was unbearable, but the death had been quick. Schneider wondered if soon, other prisoners would resort to such suicide. It would take such tedious tasks of the hands of the Schutzstaffel men in the camp, but their hard labor was still meaningful. The high voltage had partially set the woman on fire, which left several charred areas of skin on the corpse. Watching as she was lifted off the ground and carried to an active crematorium, Schneider was glad to see the camp back on track. The previous week, new Sonderkommandos had been installed in the camp's crematoriums. Their first task? Burning the previous Sonderkommando's corpses. Followed by family, friends, and the other loved ones that had been brought into the camp by railway.

What sick, sadistic pleasure the Obersturmfuhrer had gotten out of watching the women set ablaze by the voltage before her hands were viciously burned off had slowly dimmed down to a feeling of boredom. His icy gaze shifted to the two charred hands that had slipped off the fencing and rested in the dirt. They would serve a remainder to the rest of the prisoners. The lowlife scum that occupied the walls of Birkenau lacked such intelligence and would require such a warning. Calmly, he flicked his cigarette into the dirt and burrowed the tip of his jackboot into it to end its flickering flames. With a healed lung, he still suffered some complications with the ash that was constantly being spewed out of the crematoriums. Inhaling some, in combination from smoke from his cigarette, he had a vicious outbreak of coughing. Bent forward, he gasped for some air and made a swift recovery.

In the last two weeks, although not exactly enjoyable, he had managed to get the camp back on track with the help of the KriminalKommmissar and even his underling. The fact they had forced the inhabitants of the camp into even harder labor had also helped. Perhaps he would receive a commendation for recovering from the revolt so swiftly and keeping one of the key camps in Hitler's Final Solution running smoothly. The fourth crematorium would have to be rebuilt however, as the Jewish bastards had succeeded in destroying the oven rooms. From interrogations, they had learned that the women had been the ones smuggling weaponry and explosives into the crematoriums in corpses. Schneider had made sure they had been punished accordingly. One of the women couldn't stand the intense punishment and had...flung herself against the electrified barbed wire fence. Or did Schneider push her? He somewhat questioned his sanity and wasn't quite sure who had killed whom.

Approaching the train yard from the women's camp, he recalled that he had assigned Hautt to the task of loading heavy axels into trains. It was one of more grueling tasks within the confines of the extermination camp. The man had expressed his love for executing the swine in the camp, so he had ruled such out as it would hardly be a punishment. Which was one slightly appealing thing about the despicable man. He would need to learn discipline and intelligence the hard way. Fighting, speaking out of turn, and generally being an incompetent moron was unacceptable within the ranks of the Waffen SS. Glancing away from the cargo train, he spotted the KriminalKommissar in search of someone or something. Making his way across the tracks, he greeted the man who he hadn't seen much of in the last few days. "Ah, Herr Wolff. Hallo und guter Morgen. Nach wem suchen Sie? "

- "Ah, Herr Wolff. Hello and good morning. Who are you searching for?"

[Deleted]

OOC: Magnificent posts, both of you...

Hautt stretched as he set another axel down, his shoulders already hurting. In the two weeks he had been forced to work, he had gotten slightly larger, his biceps tight against the two-sizes too small prisoner uniform. His neck was getting bigger as well, he had already gained a centimer and a half in thickness. He was considering working out after he finished his time in Auschwitz. It would benefit him physically and mentally. Lifting another axel, his ninth of the day, with Vyacheslav on the other end, he turned his head, the axel still on his shoulders. Quite a ways away stood Kriminalkommissar Wolff, his uniform sharp, his posture amazing for someone who just had a chunk of wood stabbed into his leg. Quickly diverting his eyes, Hautt went back to his work, doing a real balancing act as Vyacheslav and himself struggled to stack the axel at the top of an already-waiting pile. "Це буде зроблено. Отримати ремені готовий, я гачком тут, " he said in quick Ukrainian to Vyacheslav. The man nodded and walked to the edge of the platform, where a pile of heavy-duty straps awaited, to tie down the heavy load the railbeds held.

"кидати! " he barked, and the bulky Ukrainian obeyed, lobbing the four-inch wide tan strap from the other side of the railbed, Hautt ducking out of the way as the hook darted past his head, swinging slowly as it came to a halt. Grabbing it, he wrapped it twice around a support bar for the car, walking to the other side, where he and Vyacheslav began a wrestling match with the mechanism, heaving and heaving, the strap tightening over the axels, stopping only when they could pull no more. The strap webbing was as tense as steel, locking the pyramid-pile of ten axels in place securely. "Він будете проводити. Давайте закінчимо з іншими трьома, і перейти до наступної машини, " he said, sweat trickling off of his now-tanned forehead. The other two workers, whose names Friedrich did not know, were already working on the next car down, so after he and his Ukrainian counterpart finished strapping the other piles, they skipped that car.

Looking up from his work, he noticed that Obersturmführer Schneider had joined Otto, and again, Hautt diverted his eyes and used his concentration on his work. He did not salute either one. He had not saluted since he was stripped of his clothes, and his SS status and rank. He was not a soldier again until the last axel was loaded, and he reported to his superiors that his work was finished. Until that time, he was worth less than the clothes he wore, and the men he worked with. He wasn't even guaranteed that the work would stop. As far as he knew, he might spend the rest of his life in this place, doomed, like Vyacheslav, to work until one day, he just fell down and died from exhaustion.

The next car they loaded was an enclosed box-car, which gave Hautt and Vyacheslav a chance to stop for a breather. His lungs heaving, Hautt leaned against the wall of the car, his face going pale. Walking to the open side, he bent over and vomited, not much, but enough for him to wonder where it was coming from. "Warum kotze ich? Es gibt nichts in dort, um sich zu übergeben, " he muttered in german, wiping his mouth with his dirty shirt, taking another few seconds of precious air before grabbing a pair of axels, small ones, about sixty pounds each, tossing them upwright into a corner of the railcar. He wasn't sure what kind of vehicle they went to, but knowing Berlin, it was probably to some mumbo-jumbo test thingummy, or something, that probably wouldn't do much but waste money and time. Another fifteen minutes went by, and Hautt grabbed another heavy axel, this one a fiat truck axel, which was light enough that Hautt tossed it onto his shoulder and put on the other railcar on his own... barely. Setting it down, he straightened his back and turned, stretching his tight muscles again.

The other two in their group had already finished their railbed, and were working on the last car. Finishing the small boxcar load, Hautt and Vyacheslav hurried to help them, eager to finish. With all four men working on the same car, it only took ten minutes to load the last of the 40 axels onto the bed, and another two to strap the piles down. When the last strap was secure, there was no cheering, no smiling, no laughing or joking that they had won once more. They hadn't. For the other three men, this wasn't the end, but only a warm-up. More trains would come. The schedule was that one came through at least once every three days. That meant that Vyacheslav and the others would be work-free, until the next morning, when the next one was due. Saying his goodbye to Hautt, Vyacheslav joined the other two as they headed back to their bunks, the rest of the day to be spent sleeping, or telling stories of home.

Just as the Ukrainian was out of sight, Hautt bent over and threw up again, this time, something looking more like radioactive waste than spent food coming up. Wiping his mouth once again, he looked up at Otto and Erik, his face neutral, he shoulders tense. "Jetzt ist dort, wo sie mir sagen werden, daß es war, alle ein Witz, den ich hier für Gutes verlassen werden sollte. Es wird keine Freilassung geben." he thought, motionless and speechless as the train behind him rolled slowly away, its contents held rock-solid by the straps.


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Translations:

"Це буде зроблено. Отримати ремені готовий, я гачком тут, "
"This one's done. Get the straps ready, I'll hook it here, "

"кидати! "
"Toss! "

"Він будете проводити. Давайте закінчимо з іншими трьома, і перейти до наступної машини, "
"It'll hold. Let's finish the other three, and move on to the next car, "

"Warum kotze ich? Es gibt nichts in dort, um sich zu übergeben, "
"Why am I puking? There's nothing in there to throw up, "

"Jetzt ist dort, wo sie mir sagen werden, daß es war, alle ein Witz, den ich hier für Gutes verlassen werden sollte. Es wird keine Freilassung geben."
"Now is where they will tell me that it was all a joke, that I am to be left here for good. There will be no release."

[Otto Wolff]

The work was obviously getting to Scharführer Hautt, as the man looked pale and exhausted, soon moving off to the side to vomit. The Kriminalkommissar arched an eyebrow and wondered if the work detail would make the man just bitter or if it would make him remember his manners the next time he was confronted with officers of SS. It could work both ways, but Otto hoped that the man was sensible enough to just remember the hard lesson he had learned instead of coming up with some new defiant and idiotic things to do. If he had worked for the SD, he must have had some intelligence inside that head of his, although Otto had mixed feelings when it came to SD. He had on more than one occasion been confronted by the SD when some of their tasks had overlapped. The bureaucratic system of the Reich was such an entanglement of different offices that Otto was not sure if anyone was quite up to date of the whole scale of it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a man walking across the railroad tracks, the uniformed man greeting Otto as he approached him. "Ah, Herr Wolff. Hallo und guter Morgen. Nach wem suchen Sie?", the familiar Obersturmführer said and Otto was happy to have finally found the man. They had been working together for the past few weeks, helping to clean up the mess that was left of the riot. Otto had learned that young Schneider could be quite a ruthless man and he did not seem to suffer from bad conscience at all. Sometimes the Kriminalkommissar wondered if these tasks were ruining the life of the young man, but he had not dared to take up the subject. It would have implied that he thought of Schneider as a weak man and this was not certainly the case. Still, Otto felt that the sooner they were done with their duties here at Auschwitz, the better.

"Guten Morgen, Obersturmführer Schneider. Wie glücklich ich auf Sie schließlich stieß, sind Sie gerade der Mann, nach dem ich gesucht habe. Ich fragte mich, ob Sie Ihre Zeit und einige Männer verschonen konnten, um mir mit etwas zu helfen, nehme ich nicht an, dass es zu lange nimmt. Ein paar Stunden höchstens," Otto said with a nod and glanced around him before continuing. "Ich habe Information erhalten, dass einige Bürger in einem Dorf nicht zu weit weg die Partisanen beherbergt haben, die einige der Waffen für den Aufruhr schmuggelten. Das natürlich können wir nicht dulden, so müssen die Partisanen ausgespült und verfügt werden."

Otto pointed a finger towards north. "Das Dorf ist weniger als zehn Kilometer von hier, es ist ein ziemlich kleiner Platz. Es besteht aus zehn Häusern oder so, mindestens, so wurde mir erzählt. Ich habe bereite Fahrzeuge, ich vermisse nur fünf bis acht Männer, um mir zu helfen. Ich hoffte, dass Sie einige gute Männer kennen könnten, die weg von etwas... kräftigen Methoden wenn erforderlich nicht vermeiden. Und ich würde auch jemanden brauchen, um diese schreckliche Sprache von Schweinen für mich zu übersetzen, ich habe mich nie die Mühe gemacht, Polnisch selbst zu erfahren. Und natürlich würde ich am meisten zufrieden sein, wenn Sie mich begleiten würden, wissen Sie am besten, wie Ihre Männer irgendwie arbeiten. Ich erwarte nicht, dass es viel Widerstand geben sollte, aber man kann nie zu sorgfältig sein."

It was true, Otto did not think that the common people would rise up against them to protect the partisans, but the partisans themselves could be quite fanatical. If they still had weapons and explosives, they might make one last desperate stand and try to take out as many Germans with them as they could. Usually the local people despised the partisans, for they brought nothing but trouble for them and were sometimes even inclined to rob the locals instead of the Germans, at least such was the case with Soviet partisans. Otto was not sure if these particular troublemakers were Jewish or Polish, but they certainly were not Russians, the locals would not protect them.

"Ich weiß, dass es ziemlich kühn ist, um um die Zeit von sich selbst und diesen Ihrer Männer zu bitten. Ich dachte, dass Sie es eine willkommene Änderung des Schritts finden könnten, um das Lager für einen Moment herauszubekommen," the Kriminalkommissar flashed a small and short smile at the younger man. Otto himself would certainly appreciate a small trip to the countryside, even if it lasted for only an hour or so. He was tired of seeing the rows of barracks and the half-starved prisoners. Even though the Jews did not dare to look at him, he could feel their hollow eyes boring hatefully into his back once he had passed by them.


Translations:

"Guten Morgen, Obersturmführer Schneider. Wie glücklich ich auf Sie schließlich stieß, sind Sie gerade der Mann, nach dem ich gesucht habe. Ich fragte mich, ob Sie Ihre Zeit und einige Männer verschonen konnten, um mir mit etwas zu helfen, nehme ich nicht an, dass es zu lange nimmt. Ein paar Stunden höchstens."
"Good morning, Obersturmführer Schneider. How fortunate I finally came across you, you are just the man I have been searching for. I was wondering if you could spare your time and a few men to assist me with something, I do not expect it to take too long. A few hours at most."

"Ich habe Information erhalten, dass einige Bürger in einem Dorf nicht zu weit weg die Partisanen beherbergt haben, die einige der Waffen für den Aufruhr schmuggelten. Das natürlich können wir nicht dulden, so müssen die Partisanen ausgespült und verfügt werden."
"I have received information that some civilians in a village not too far away have been harboring the partisans who smuggled some of the weapons for the riot. This of course, we cannot tolerate, so the partisans need to be flushed out and disposed of."

"Das Dorf ist weniger als zehn Kilometer von hier, es ist ein ziemlich kleiner Platz. Es besteht aus zehn Häusern oder so, mindestens, so wurde mir erzählt. Ich habe bereite Fahrzeuge, ich vermisse nur fünf bis acht Männer, um mir zu helfen. Ich hoffte, dass Sie einige gute Männer kennen könnten, die weg von etwas... kräftigen Methoden wenn erforderlich nicht vermeiden. Und ich würde auch jemanden brauchen, um diese schreckliche Sprache von Schweinen für mich zu übersetzen, ich habe mich nie die Mühe gemacht, Polnisch selbst zu erfahren. Und natürlich würde ich am meisten zufrieden sein, wenn Sie mich begleiten würden, wissen Sie am besten, wie Ihre Männer irgendwie arbeiten. Ich erwarte nicht, dass es viel Widerstand geben sollte, aber man kann nie zu sorgfältig sein."
"The village is less than ten kilometers from here, it's a rather small place. It consists of ten houses or so, at least so I was told. I have vehicles ready, I'm only missing five to eight men to assist me. I was hoping that you might know a few good men who do not shun away from somewhat... forceful methods if needed. And I would also need someone to translate that horrible language of pigs for me, I have never bothered learning Polish myself. And of course, I would be most pleased if you would accompany me, you know best how your men work, anyway. I do not expect there should be much resistance, but one can never be too careful."

"Ich weiß, dass es ziemlich kühn ist, um um die Zeit von sich selbst und diesen Ihrer Männer zu bitten. Ich dachte, dass Sie es eine willkommene Änderung des Schritts finden könnten, um das Lager für einen Moment herauszubekommen."
"I know it is quite bold to ask for the time of yourself and that of your men, but I was thinking that you might find it a welcome change of pace to get outside the camp for a moment."

[∬: Erik Schneider]

The KriminalKommissar greeted Schneider and informed him that he was in fact looking for the Obersturmfuhrer. Apparently, he had some sort of task he needed assistance with and wished to know if he could borrow some of the men beneath Schneider's command. Nodding, he waited for Wolff to continue on and fully explain the situation to his equal. His eyes lit up as the Gestapo man explained that he had just come a hold of vital information that partisans who had helped plan and smuggle in weapons for the Auschwitz revolt were being harbored in a nearby Polish village. Following the man's finger to the North, Schneider listened to his description of the village and the men needed for the task. He wanted the best that Schneider had to offer, or at least those who weren't afraid to use "force", which included the Obersturmfuhrer himself. The conversation had grown to be quite one sided as Wolff finally concluded with an apology for making such a request to the young officer, which Schneider saw no reason for.

"Sehr gut KriminalKommissar. Ich achte es, dass eine Gruppe meiner Männer herauf sofort gerundet wird und wir diese Parteigänger innerhalb des Tages zerquetschen. Schutze! Hergekommen." Schneider finished addressing Wolff, before he slowly rotated in search of a nearby guard. The nervous, young man came running up to the Obersturmfuhrer with a hint of fear in his eyes. Watching with a slight sense of hatred for how the man was conducting himself, the boy suddenly fell short of Schneider in an embarrassing accident. On his knees before the Obersturmfuhrer, the Private scrambled to get his helmet back on over his head and back onto his feet. Slightly disgusted by the excuse for a soldier before him, he didn't assist the man in getting up. Instead, he disappointingly looked down upon the young Schutze. Nervously, he blurted out apology after apology, before Schneider raised his hand to silence the babbling man.

"Sehen Sie zu es, das ich Sie nie sehe, auf solch eine Art überhaupt wieder dich zu leiten, Schutze. Holen Sie mir acht Männer vom zweiten Zug jetzt. Unterscharfuhrer Müller, Rottenfuhrers Jaekel und Krueger und Schutzes Vogel, Kugler, Schulz und Hofmann. Seien Sie über es schnell." Pleased that he had gone slow enough over each man's name that his temporary runner would be able to memorize and fetch each man, the Obersturmfuhrer turned back to Wolff who had been watching Schneider from behind. Placing his hand around the facial hair on the outskirts of his mouth, he pondered who they would bring along as a translator. "Der einzige Mann, den ich den berücksichtige, würde in der Lage sein, das Schwein zu sprechen Sprache… Scharfuhrer Hautt sein würde. Nicht das angenehmste von Wahlen." Slowly, he shifted his gaze to that of Hautt who was bent over some feet in front of them hurling the contents of his stomach out from his mouth. If there were any actually in his stomach.

"Es ist erstaunlich, wie gut Sie mit dem ukrainischen Schmutz arbeitete, es nicht, KriminalKommissar Wolff ist? Es ist er kann seine eigenen Vorgesetzten für länger als zwei Sekunden nicht respektieren unglücklich. Möglicherweise kann dieses als Test dienen, zu sehen, wenn er alles von seiner Bestrafung erlernt hat." He questioningly looked back towards Wolff, all the while knowing that he wouldn't need the KriminalKommissar to agree. Schneider had already decided that would be bringing the Scharfuhrer along as he approached the vomiting man. Dejectedly, the Junior NCO glanced up at the Obersturmfuhrer, the smell of vomit still fresh in the air. Deviously, his gaze washed over the broken man, relishing in how the man had suffered for this actions and words. They would serve as a vital lesson, both in and out of combat for the foolhardy soldier. Sliding his left hand down to his hip, it looked almost like Schneider was going to reach for his pistol and shoot the man dead. Instead, he extended his hand to pull the Scharfuhrer up.

Overwhelmed, he grimaced at the smell of vomit that was rapidly spreading throughout the area from the puddles beneath the exhausted Scharfuhrer. "Es würde dort ist eine Aufgabe scheinen, die tadellos für Sie und Ihre Fähigkeiten, Scharfuhrer entsprochen wurde. Sie werden sich, Herrn Wolff und eine Gruppe der Männer begleiten, um einige parteigängerische Unruhestifter zu beschäftigen. Ich hoffe, dass Sie etwas Verbesserungen von den letzten zwei Wochen sehen." His hand vanished into the inner pockets of his feldblouse and returned with a folded paper and a rag. "Diese sind Aufträge für Ihre Freigabe, Scharfuhrer. Nehmen Sie sie zu den Kasernen und erhalten Sie aufgeräumt. Berichten Sie zurück zu mir innerhalb Zwanzig Minuten. Und säubern Sie, dass auflehnend sich weg erbrechen Sie." Schneider handed the man the folded papers for his release and gently tossed the rag towards his face. After a week of hard labor, twenty minutes was hardly a good transitional period back into the military, but it would have to do.


Translations:

- "Very well, KriminalKommissar. I will see to it that a squad of my men be rounded up immediately and we crush these partisans within the day. Schutze! Come here."

- "See to it I never see you conduct yourself in such a way ever again, Schutze. Now fetch me eight men from second platoon. Unterscharfuhrer Müller, Rottenfuhrers Jaekel and Krueger, and Schutzes Vogel, Kugler, Schulz, and Hofmann. Be quick about it."

- "The only man I am aware of that would be able to speak the pig language...would be Scharfuhrer Hautt. Not the most pleasant of choices."

- "It is amazing how well you worked with the Ukrainian filth, is it not, KriminalKommissar Wolff? It is unfortunate he can not respect his own superiors for longer than two seconds. Perhaps, this can serve as a test to see if he has learned anything from his punishment."

- "It would seem there is a task perfectly suited for you and your skills, Scharfuhrer. You will be accompanying myself, Herr Wolff, and a squad of men to deal with some partisan troublemakers. I hope you see some improvements from the past two weeks."

- "These are orders for your release, Scharfuhrer. Take them to the barracks and get cleaned up. Report back to me within twenty minutes. And clean that revolting vomit off."

[Deleted]

"Es würde dort ist eine Aufgabe scheinen, die tadellos für Sie und Ihre Fähigkeiten, Scharfuhrer entsprochen wurde. Sie werden sich, Herrn Wolff und eine Gruppe der Männer begleiten, um einige parteigängerische Unruhestifter zu beschäftigen. Ich hoffe, dass Sie etwas Verbesserungen von den letzten zwei Wochen sehen." Erik said, much to the surprise of Hautt. Still weak from vomiting, he nodded quickly to show that he understood, afraid of throwing up all over his superior's boots. Erik pulled out a rag, and a folded piece of paper. "Diese sind Aufträge für Ihre Freigabe, Scharfuhrer. Nehmen Sie sie zu den Kasernen und erhalten Sie aufgeräumt. Berichten Sie zurück zu mir innerhalb Zwanzig Minuten. Und säubern Sie, dass auflehnend sich weg erbrechen Sie." Erik commanded. "Ja, Herr Obersturmführer! " he said with as much enthusiasm as he could as he saluted, shaking slightly from the puking.

Taking the paper as if it were the holy grail, he managed to clumsily catch the rag as it was thrown to him. Two weeks of lifting heavy objects had dulled his quick reflexes. He felt like a tiger trapped in a bears body. He wanted to be agile and quick, but being weak from exhaustion and sore from his work, he was reduced to a slow, lumbering beast with endurance as his only virtue. Saluting once more, he turned and ran, kind of a slow-motion jog than anything, but he ran. All the way to the barracks, paper in hand as he wiped the vomit from his face and chin. Handing the paper to the Commandant, he was rewarded with a nod towards a sid door to the barracks. Zipping inside, he realized that he must had died and went to heaven. Row after row of military gear sat before him, uniforms in boxes, on shelves. Ammo pouches, belts, helmets, suspenders. Boots, both low and high, as well as underwear and socks. Ripping his tattered prisoner's clothing, he grabbed a pair of underwear and slid them on, ecstatic as he put on a clean white shirt. He grabbed the first pair of trousers he saw, which were, strangely enough, just his size. Buttoning up a field jacket, the rank not yet sew on, he grabbed a helmet, an issue '42 single-decal, which was one size too large, but didn't look shabby at all, considering it was factory-fresh. He slid on a pair of socks onto his dirty feet, and then a pair of marching boots after, the brown leather enticing him.

Grabbing a belt and ammo pouches to put on as he ran, he skidded to a stop in front of the Commandants desk, saluted and said a quick thank you, rushing out the door as he buckled the belt, at a flat run, all exhaustion ignored, straight for where Erik and Otto stood. Slowing to a walk as he neared, he clicked his heels together and saluted like a good party member, saying nothing, but panting like a dog. He had counted his time. Fourteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds, give or take a few seconds due to inaccuracy. "Scharführer... Friedrich... Christian Hautt, " he panted, straightening and trying to catch his breath. "...das Berichten wie befohlen, Herr Obersturmführer, " he said, dropping the party salute and pulling a crisp, strict-military salute. He was almost a completely different person. His face was bright and respectful, although unshaven and more than a little dirty. He had treated his second chance like a gift from above, dropping his attitude and air of superiority.

That he wore the common soldier's uniform, rather than his NCO overcoat, as well as a helmet instead of his usual crushed cap, said something about his new view of self-importance, which wasn't really a view at all, but an acceptance and realization of the masses of men did not care who Scharführer Friedrich C. Hautt was. In the long run, he was another rifle. His place in history, and his desposition among men was not determing by how superior he was, how much of an attitude he threw, but by how actions. His actions as viewed by others could never be good if he walked around as a high-and-mighty, I'm-SS-and-you-can-sodd-off attitude. Smiling, he awaited his orders, sweat trickling down his face.




-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Translations:

"Ja, Herr Obersturmführer! "
"Yes, Sir Obersturmführer! "

"...das Berichten wie befohlen, "
"... reporting as ordered, "

[Otto Wolff]

As Otto had already earlier guessed, the Obersturmführer did not have any objections when it came to taking out some partisans. He nodded as Schneider told him that he had the proper men for the mission. A young Schutze of the SS came running to his commanding officer, looking slightly fearful when confronted by Schneider. His nervousness caused him even to stumble and lose his helmet, making Otto wonder if he had been once been so awfully frightful of his superiors at some point of his life. It was such a long time ago, he had a hard time remembering it. When he tried to think back to the times of the Great War, all other memories seemed to be pushed aside by images of rain, trenches and the painful sensation of shrapnel finding it's way through his skin. It made his other side burn suddenly in an amazingly vivid fashion, although what had happened back then had taken place tens of years ago.

He could faintly hear Schneider saying names of his selected men for the mission and the Kriminalkommissar was slowly brought back into reality as Schneider turned to regard him again. "Der einzige Mann, den ich den berücksichtige, würde in der Lage sein, das Schwein zu sprechen Sprache… Scharfuhrer Hautt sein würde. Nicht das angenehmste von Wahlen," the younger officer said, maybe not too happy to bring Hautt in for the mission.

As both of their gazes shifted at Hautt, they saw the man throwing up whatever there was left in his stomach, the hard work was getting to the man. "Es ist erstaunlich, wie gut Sie mit dem ukrainischen Schmutz arbeitete, es nicht, KriminalKommissar Wolff ist? Es ist er kann seine eigenen Vorgesetzten für länger als zwei Sekunden nicht respektieren unglücklich. Möglicherweise kann dieses als Test dienen, zu sehen, wenn er alles von seiner Bestrafung erlernt hat", Schneider said and Otto nodded slowly.

"Tatsächlich würde man denken, dass solcher Betrag der harten Arbeit genug sein würde, um einen Sinn sogar einem Mann mit der einfachsten Meinung zu haben," Otto answered, he was slightly interested to see how Hautt would be conducting himself after being through such a hard lesson. He was sure that the Obersturmführer would not hesitate to extend Hautt's punishment if it appeared that the man was still disrespectful towards his superiors, although it seemed that Hautt might not survive through another week of hard labour. Schneider handed Hautt his papers for release and Hautt accepted the document as if it was a gift straight from heaven. He seemed much more attentive now, although weak from all the work. Well, Hautt might make a good, respectful soldier of the SS yet, Otto mused.

As Hautt ran off to get cleaned up and gather his gear, Otto nodded towards the direction he had just arrived from, glancing at his watch briefly. "Ich habe die Fahrzeuge bereit dort drüben," the Kriminalkommissar said, clasping his wrist behind his back as he started slowly walking away from the railroad tracks. "Sie sind einfache Leute, diese Ortsansässigen. Bauern, Handwerker und solcher. Sie haben wenig Verstehen der Politik des Reichs. Ich vermute, dass sie ins Zusammenarbeiten mit uns leicht erschrocken sein werden und ich vorschlage, dass wir von der Gewalt zuerst Abstand nehmen. Wenn sie sich weigern, uns zu helfen, gut... dann ist es ein Ganzer eine andere Sache. Ich würde vermuten, dass die Partisanen, die wir danach sind, polnische Juden sind... Können Sie nicht mehr an elende Kombination denken?" Otto asked with some amusement in his voice as the men walked towards the vehicles Otto had reserved for this mission. "Aber es ist irgendwie nicht von Bedeutung, ein Partisan ist ein Partisan und bereits tot in meinen Augen. Sie hatten irgendwie Explosivstoffe den Gefangenen durch den Zaun geschmuggelt. Können Sie solch ein Ding glauben, das sogar geschieht? Vielleicht haben die für den Umfang verantwortlichen Wächter interessantere Dinge gehabt zu tun, als auf solch eine einfache Aufgabe als Beobachtung eines Zauns aufpassen," Otto noted with a small sneer.

An Opel Blitz was standing ready, the driver leaning against the truck's side and smoking a cigarette. He was chatting with another driver, the other man obviously paired with a black Mercedes-Benz 320, the top of the convertible down since the weather currently was quite sunny and nice. The men near the vehicles were quick to snap into attention as they saw the two officers approaching. As there was still time before all the men were assembled, Otto searched for his silver case of cigarettes, offering one also to Schneider. The man settled into enjoying his cigarette as he glanced at his watch every now and then, keeping an eye at how much time Hautt would require to get ready to leave.

It took Hautt fourteen minutes to get cleaned up, gather his gear and return back to Schneider and Wolff. By then all other Schneider's men were assembled and the driver of the Blitz opened the latches at the back of the truck, releasing the tailgate so that the soldiers could climb in. It seemed as if Hautt was now a completely different man and looked much more like a respetable soldier of the SS. Otto nodded at the man approvingly, but said nothing. The young driver of the Mercedes convertible opened the door for the officers, saluting as he held the door open. The Kriminalkommissar motioned for Schneider to get in first and only then did the Gestapo officer take a seat at the back of the car himself.

Otto always conducted himself in a certain way, keeping his tone of voice steady and emotionless, the man apparently never loosing his temper. While in Auschwitz, Otto had already made it clear that he would not tolerate any deviation from proper etiquette and he demanded respect from others, but was also ready to show respect to those who deserved it. Although the man was seemingly calm and composed at all times, not snapping even at the prisoners he interrogated, he had also demonstrated that when such methods were needed, he did not shun from using more crueler means of getting what he wanted. Otto treated the young Obersturmführer very courteously because he liked the impression Schneider had given him.

When the Blitz was loaded and ready to go, it took the point and headed to the gates, which were opened for the vehicles. The road north took the vehicles to a dusty road and the driver of the Mercedes made sure to stay well back behind the truck so that the officers would not have to suffer from the dust that was billowing behind the Blitz. The few houses along the road were soon left behind and the settlements became scarcer as the road snaked through fields and forests. Otto just settled into enjoying the peace and beauty of the countryside, the few buildings along the way making him wonder how the locals could live in such shacks. It was certain that the craftmanship of Germans was far superior when he looked at the meagre buildings these Poles had managed to come up with.

The forest was soon left behind and the sides of the road now featured some pens that looked like if they could fall apart at any given moment. It was a wonder that such fences would keep any animals inside at all, but maybe the Polish animals were as stupid as their owners. The vehicles finally arrived at a small village or rather a gathering of old houses around an opening which might have been the town square. The village consisted of ten buildings and one of the buildings had large glass windows, it might have been the local general store. None of the buildings had more than two stories and the paint was chipping off the walls, making this village seem like a sorry sight indeed.

A group of three children had already spotted the German military truck and the two boys and a girl were running barefooted across the town square, disappearing into one of the buildings. Soon all of the villagers had more or less interrupted whatever they were doing and hid in their houses, maybe hoping that the Germans were just passing by. The vehicles came to a slow stop at the edge of the town square and the driver hurried on to open the door for the two officers. Otto stepped out of the Mercedes and glanced around, distaste evident on his face. "Wie charmant. So, ich denke, dass es am besten ist, wenn alle Dorfbewohner hier daran gesammelt wurden... was auch immer das, Stadtquadrat ist, schätze ich? Und ich meine jeden, die Kinder, die alten Leute, die innerhalb jener Buden lauern könnten," Otto said, leaving the commanding of the men to the person who was best qualified at it, which was of course the young Obersturmführer. He didn't expect much resistance, but one would still have to be careful when entering the buildings.


Translations:

"Tatsächlich würde man denken, dass solcher Betrag der harten Arbeit genug sein würde, um einen Sinn sogar einem Mann mit der einfachsten Meinung zu haben."
"Indeed, one would think that such amount of hard work would be enough to beat some sense even to a man with the simplest mind."

"Ich habe die Fahrzeuge bereit dort drüben."
"I have the vehicles standing by over there."

"Sie sind einfache Leute, diese Ortsansässigen. Bauern, Handwerker und solcher. Sie haben wenig Verstehen der Politik des Reichs. Ich vermute, dass sie ins Zusammenarbeiten mit uns leicht erschrocken sein werden und ich vorschlage, dass wir von der Gewalt zuerst Abstand nehmen. Wenn sie sich weigern, uns zu helfen, gut... dann ist es ein Ganzer eine andere Sache. Ich würde vermuten, dass die Partisanen, die wir danach sind, polnische Juden sind... Können Sie nicht mehr an elende Kombination denken?"
"They are simple people, these locals. Farmers, craftsmen and such. They have little understanding of the politics of Reich. I suspect they will be easily scared into co-operating with us and I suggest that we refrain from violence at first. If they refuse to help us, well... then it's a whole another matter. I would suspect that the partisans we are after are Polish Jews... Can you think of any more wretched combination?"

"Aber es ist irgendwie nicht von Bedeutung, ein Partisan ist ein Partisan und bereits tot in meinen Augen. Sie hatten irgendwie Explosivstoffe den Gefangenen durch den Zaun geschmuggelt. Können Sie solch ein Ding glauben, das sogar geschieht? Vielleicht haben die für den Umfang verantwortlichen Wächter interessantere Dinge gehabt zu tun, als auf solch eine einfache Aufgabe als Beobachtung eines Zauns aufpassen."
"But it does not matter anyway, a partisan is a partisan and already dead in my eyes. They had somehow smuggled explosives to the prisoners through the fence. Can you believe such a thing even happening? Maybe the guards in charge of the perimeter have had more interesting things to do than take care of such a simple task as watching a fence."

"Wie charmant. So, ich denke, dass es am besten ist, wenn alle Dorfbewohner hier daran gesammelt wurden... was auch immer das, Stadtquadrat ist, schätze ich? Und ich meine jeden, die Kinder, die alten Leute, die innerhalb jener Buden lauern könnten."
"How charming. Well, I think it's best if all the villagers were gathered here at this... whatever this is, town square, I guess? And I mean everyone, the children, the old people, whoever might be lurking inside those shacks."

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: Hautt you can see to it that the men gather the villagers up and assemble them in the square. Then Herr Wolff here can do with them as he pleases.

Following closely by Wolff's side, the two officers made their way for the vehicles that would be escorting them across the Polish countryside. The Kriminalkommissar joked about the partisans and the prior guards of the camp, gaining a brief chuckle from his younger comrade who casually walked beside him in slight silence. "Wir können beurteilen, wie die harte Arbeit Scharfuhrer Hautt und wenn erfolgreich, den inkompetenten Schutz ihm unterwerfen Sie, wie wir Sitz sehen. Möglicherweise würden sie eine Sache erlernen oder über das Schützen eines Lagers der Gottfluch Juden tun." The Obersturmfuhrer muttered, mainly to himself, not expecting an answer from Wolff who seemed to be concentrating on other matters. Amusingly, he watched as the drivers snapped to attention at the mere sight of their superiors, something Schneider always found odd and unnecessary. Military regulations spoke otherwise, but Schneider signaled for the men to be at ease and allowed them to converse between each other.

Awaiting for the men to assemble, Wolff extended a silver case of German cigarettes before the young, addicted smoke as an offering. Without hesitation, Schneider murmured a quick thanks to the generous man and wrapped his fingers around a particular one. Approaching the rear of the truck, Schneider easily pulled himself up into a sitting position on the edge with the unlit cigarette in hand. The officers and drivers awaited for the rest of the men to gather in silence, each ascending into their own little world. Searching through each and every pocket, Schneider found his misplaced silver lighter which was embedded with symbols of the Third Reich and brought it up beneath his chin while simultaneously placing the cigarette in between his lips. The flicker of fire ignited the end of the roll of tobacco, as Schneider took long, calming drags. His gaze wandered down to that of his left wrist, slowly easing up the gray fabric to just above his wrist in order to view a family heirloom. A delicate, expensive watch. The time telling device had seen its fair share of war and damage, the scars it received slightly noticeable, yet it still worked.

Schneider's men assembled before the rear of the truck to report for duty, before Schneider began to pull each man aboard one by one. The Obersturmfuhrer helping each man into the back of the truck was inspiring and worked quite well for morale. As the last man climbed aboard, Hautt arrived onto the scene, slightly late. Straightening up before the officers, the nearly out of breath Scharfuhrer reported for duty and saluted beneath Schneider. Eying him over, Schneider reached down moments later and grabbed a hold of the man's hand. It was a symbol respect and comradeship, as he lifted the heavy man up into the back of the truck. The man would be accepted back into the SS ranks, but still be tested in his actions. Proud of the noticeable changes, he hoped they were a lasting change in the man and not just some act. Hopping down off from the back of the Opel truck, he sealed the latches and secured the tailgate in position, fulfilling much of the driver's duties.

Turning around to face the Mercedes, he was greeted at the sight of an open door and the KriminalKommissar motioning for the Obersturmfuhrer to get in first. Schneider grinned at the man's courteousness and nodded in acceptance as he climbed into the back of the open convertible first. Wolff quickly followed him in and soon both vehicles were in the wide open Polish countryside. Taking in the fresh, open air with his cigarette still nestled between his right index and middle finger, Schneider was genuinely glad to be outside the camp's perimeters. Even the filthy Polish air was a welcome change for that of the extermination camp, which was constantly overwhelmed with the smell of Jewish corpses. The poor, agriculture based countryside hardly compared to the mighty and industrious Germany. Passing by the wheat fields, meager Polish buildings, heavy forested areas, and farms Schneider was reminded of memories from several years before. He had first served as a Feldwebel in this very country and had been first exposed to the horrors of war.

Up ahead, he could see signs of the Polish village through a thick cloud of dust that spawned out from under the Opel truck. The German vehicles came upon the village, which was more of a small collection of buildings. A few of the inhabitants could be spotted, scurrying inside the broken down buildings in fear of the men. Flicking his cigarette into the dirt, the dying flames eased into nothingness. Schneider slid out of the eloquent German cars into the disgusting Polish village. The distaste was clear in Wolff's facial expressions and tone and the Obersturmfuhrer grimaced as well. "Sie hörten den Mann. Jaekel und Krueger, spalteten die Männer in Gruppen von drei auf. Jaekel machen heraus die östliche Seite von dem Dorf und dem Krueger der Osten frei. Scharfuhrer Hautt und Unterscharfuhrer Muller, Aufenthalt im Rathausplatz."

Translations:

- "We can judge how the hard labor has effected Scharfuhrer Hautt, and if successful, subject the incompetent guards to it as we see fit. Perhaps, they would learn a thing or do about guarding a camp of god damn Jews. "

- "You heard the man. Jaekel and Krueger, split up the men into groups of three. Jaekel clear out the eastern side of the village and Krueger the east. Scharfuhrer Hautt and Unterscharfuhrer Muller, stay in the town square."

[Deleted]

Obersturmführer Schneider grabbed his hand and helped him up into the back of the waiting Opel Blitz, before hopping out and closing the tailgate. Taking a seat as Erik hopped into the Mercedes with Kriminalkommissar Wolff, Hautt picked up a rifle from a stack on the floor of the truck, just as the others did the same. In a few moments, they were roaring away through the bright, Polish countryside, with Wolff and Schneider just behind them, catching the full blast of dust and dirt from the Opel's tires. Even then, Hautt couldn't help himself wondering how heavy the Axels were for a Blitz. Shaking the idea from his head, he closed his eyes and leaned foreward, not sleeping, but thinking. Simple thoughts, but necessary ones.

The rest of the trip to the village, not one word was uttered by the men inside, who took the time instead to check the actions of their rifles, and load empty clips with ammo. Taking the time to load four clips himself, he put three in his pouches, putting the fourth in his rifle, putting the safety on and setting it on his lap. Before long, the low wail of the Opel's brakes, and a cloud of dust came as the Open slowed to a stop. Standing up, Hautt unlatched the tailgate and hopped out, motioning wordlessly for the men to get out, which they did, their boots kicking up even more dust as they jumped out into the bright Polish sunshine. The Poles themselves were nowhere to be found, all hiding in their rundown shacks.

Kriminalkommissar Wolff began talking about the Polish people, most of it not concerning Hautt directly, so he listened as the man talked, contempt for the Poles obvious. "Wie charmant. So, ich denke, dass es am besten ist, wenn alle Dorfbewohner hier daran gesammelt wurden... was auch immer das, Stadtquadrat ist, schätze ich? Und ich meine jeden, die Kinder, die alten Leute, die innerhalb jener Buden lauern könnten." Otto said, and Hautt clicked the safety of his rifle in the 'off' position. "Sie hörten den Mann. Jaekel und Krueger, spalteten die Männer in Gruppen von drei auf. Jaekel machen heraus die östliche Seite von dem Dorf und dem Krueger der Osten frei. Scharfuhrer Hautt und Unterscharfuhrer Muller, Aufenthalt im Rathausplatz." Erik commanded. Hautt walked foreward, with whom he guessed was Unterscharführer Muller.

It only took a few minutes, the rifles of the German soldiers universal language, before everyone, or, almost everyone was in the square, a disorganized mob, confused and afraid. This was where he came in. Stepping foreward, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and cleared his throat, his helmet heavy on his head, the eyes of the small mob on him. "Dzieñ dobry. Jestem sier¿ant sztabowy Hautt, a Ja bêdê waszym t³umacza tej grzywny polski dzieñ, " he said, clearing his throat once more. "Teraz bêdê was wszystkich trzeba zrobiæ jak powiadam wam, tak ¿e mo¿emy siê nad tym z jak szybko i efektywnie, jak to mo¿liwe. Czy mo¿na to zrobiæ dla mnie?" he asked. The mob nodded in agreement, Hautt's reassuring voice calming them somewhat.

"Chcia³bym, aby ludzie w kolejce, w czterech wierszy, dwa stopnie g³êboko w mojej lewej stronie. Kobiety i dzieci, w grupach po dziesiêciu, po prawicy mojej," he said, the men shuffling to his left to stand in blocks of eight men, the women making several large groups on his right, the scared children clutching their mothers dresses. Turning on heel, he faced Otto and saluted.

"Polen organisierten, Herr Kriminalkommissar! Das Erwarten von Anordnungen,"







-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Translations:

"Dzieñ dobry. Jestem sier¿ant sztabowy Hautt, a Ja bêdê waszym t³umacza tej grzywny polski dzieñ, "
"Good morning. I am Scharführer Hautt, and I will be your interpreter for this fine Polish day, "

"Teraz bêdê was wszystkich trzeba zrobiæ jak powiadam wam, tak ¿e mo¿emy siê nad tym z jak szybko i efektywnie, jak to mo¿liwe. Czy mo¿na to zrobiæ dla mnie?"
"Now, I will need all of you to do as I tell you, so that we may get this over with as quickly and effeciently as possible. Can you do that for me?"

"Chcia³bym, aby ludzie w kolejce, w czterech wierszy, dwa stopnie g³êboko w mojej lewej stronie. Kobiety i dzieci, w grupach po dziesiêciu, po prawicy mojej,"
"I would like the men to line up, in rows of four, two ranks deep, on my left. The women and children, in groups of ten, on my right,"

"Polen organisierten, Herr Kriminalkommissar! Das Erwarten von Anordnungen,"
"Poles organized, Sir Kriminalkommissar! Awaiting orders,"

EDIT: Fixed, sorry for being a duffer! >.<

[Otto Wolff]

The Kriminalkommissar waited patiently as the villagers were gathered from their shabby houses and brought to the town square by the SS men. Some of them were clothed in dirty rags and most of the children did not even have shoes in their feet. These Poles did not look any different from Jews, really. Otto considered them despicable people and they looked like cattle next to the proud Germans in their handsome uniforms. It was apparent that the Poles had done little if anything to better their own living conditions and so they chose to live in their own filth like pigs. He watched them being arranged into lines on the yard and Scharführer Hautt went on to explain something to them in Polish, Otto was not really interested in knowing what was being said.

The locals were clearly still afraid of them and Otto could not really blame them; the arrival of a truck full of SS men and one Gestapo official would have made a lot of people scared witless. Hautt turned to Otto and announced that he was awaiting orders, snapping into a salute. Nodding, Otto walked near to the group of Poles and glanced briefly at the Scharführer.

"Gut. Scharführer Hautt, übersetzen Sie zu diesen Schweinen, was ich sage," he told Hautt before turning his steely gaze at the huddling villagers. "Ich werde kurz sein. Wir sind hier nicht gekommen um Ihnen zu verletzen. Wir wissen dass Sie mehrere Partisanen in diesem Dorf verbergen und nur fragen, dass Sie sie zu uns übergeben. Je schneller Sie handeln, desto eher wir auf unserem Weg sein werden und Sie zurück zu Ihrer normalen Routine zurückkehren können. Wenn Sie sich weigern uns zu helfen, werden Sie betrachtete Saboteure und als solcher, Feinde des Reichs sein. Weil Sie alle wissen sollten, ist Sabotage durch den Tod strafbar. Jetzt... Ich werde Ihnen zwanzig Sekunden geben um mir zu erzählen, was Sie wissen. Danach werden wir zu verschiedenen Methoden vorwärts gehen." Otto's strong voice seemed to echo around the courtyard and he made sure that his tone of voice stayed authoritative and firm, even though the villagers did not understand his words.

The eyes of the crowd had never left Otto as he gave them his speech and he waited until Hautt had translated all of his words to the civilians. After a small pause, the Kriminalkommissar moved the sleeve of his jacket away to look at his watch, one that had served him well even through the Great War. "Zwanzig Sekunden," he repeated and then seemingly set to staring at his watch intently, although his eyes soon moved to regard the villagers who were now sweating nervously in front of him. Otto had actually planned on doing this without shooting any of the villagers. He had little taste for executing civilians unnecessarily, be they Poles or not. Executing a whole village full of people would have not looked too good on the paper, either.

Everyone seemed nervous, of course, so it would have seemed an impossible task to see if one of the villagers was actually lying. Still, ten seconds into his counting, Otto spotted an elderly man who kept glancing towards one of the houses, most likely without even realizing it himself. It wasn't a very obvious gesture, more of an movement of his eyes than his head, but Otto had worked on the field long enough to take notice of the smallest change in a person's demeanor.

Otto's dark eyes moved slowly to look at the building in question and the gray-haired Pole seemed to notice that the Gestapo officer was now paying special attention to it. The colour drained from the Pole's face and Otto let his hand fall down as he nodded. "Sehr gut. Ich denke dass wir die ganze Information haben, die wir brauchen," Otto said with some amount of amusement evident in his voice. He turned around to look at Schneider.

"Obersturmführer. Ich denke, dass es Zeit ist, um durch die Ratten auszuräuchern. Im Kabine des Blitz werden Ihre Männer finden, dass ein genügend Betrag von Benzin uns hilft, diese guten Ortsansässigen ihres Pest-Problems zu befreien. Wen auch immer sie noch innerhalb dieses Hauses haben, wird entweder durch den Rauch und das Feuer begrenzt oder kommt früher oder später laufend," Otto said, turning around just slightly to point a hand at the two-storied building. As all the buildings of the small village, they all were huddled closely together and a fire would very likely spread into the other buildings as well. Since the houses were quite poorly built, a fire would also most likely have rapid and devastating effects. This did not seem to trouble Otto much, he had only promised to make sure that the locals were not needlessly killed, there had been no talk of the buildings remaining intact.

Otto seemed to step aside and let Schneider command his men in the way he best saw fit. The SS officer would surely know how to organize his men to herd the villagers and smoke these partisans out. Still, Otto opened the button of his pistol holster, just in case there was any need to keep the locals in check when they would see their homes burning or if the partisans would bound out of the building. They were most likely armed in some way and would make a fierce last stand out of pure desperation. Otto still left his Luger in it's holster, though and relaxed into observing how the Waffen-SS worked.


Translations:

"Gut. Scharführer Hautt, übersetzen Sie zu diesen Schweinen was ich sage."
"Good. Scharführer Hautt, translate to these pigs what I say."

"Ich werde kurz sein. Wir sind hier nicht gekommen um Ihnen zu verletzen. Wir wissen dass Sie mehrere Partisanen in diesem Dorf verbergen und nur fragen, dass Sie sie zu uns übergeben. Je schneller Sie handeln, desto eher wir auf unserem Weg sein werden und Sie zurück zu Ihrer normalen Routine zurückkehren können. Wenn Sie sich weigern uns zu helfen, werden Sie betrachtete Saboteure und als solcher, Feinde des Reichs sein. Weil Sie alle wissen sollten, ist Sabotage durch den Tod strafbar. Jetzt... Ich werde Ihnen zwanzig Sekunden geben um mir zu erzählen, was Sie wissen. Danach werden wir zu verschiedenen Methoden vorwärts gehen."
"I shall be brief. We have not come here to harm you. We know you are hiding a number of partisans in this village and only ask that you surrender them to us. The faster you act, the sooner we will be on our way and you can return back to your normal routine. If you refuse to aid us, you will be regarded saboteurs and as such, enemies of the Reich. As you all should know, sabotage is punishable by death. Now... I will give you twenty seconds to tell me what you know. After that we will advance to different methods."

"Zwanzig Sekunden."
"Twenty seconds."

"Sehr gut. Ich denke dass wir die ganze Information haben, die wir brauchen."
"Very good. I think we have all the information we need."

"Obersturmführer. Ich denke, dass es Zeit ist, um durch die Ratten auszuräuchern. Im Kabine des Blitz werden Ihre Männer finden, dass ein genügend Betrag von Benzin uns hilft, diese guten Ortsansässigen ihres Pest-Problems zu befreien. Wen auch immer sie noch innerhalb dieses Hauses haben, wird entweder durch den Rauch und das Feuer begrenzt oder kommt früher oder später laufend."
"Obersturmführer, I think it is time to smoke the rats out. In the cabin of the Blitz your men will find a sufficient amount of gasoline to help us rid these good locals of their pest problem. Whoever they have still inside that house will either be terminated by the smoke and fire or come running out sooner or later."

[∬: Erik Schneider]

Contempt, Schneider watched as the young Scharfuhrer showed some form of usefulness and aided in organizing the filth into the crowded town square. Hautt was speaking in their native tongue, one Schneider hardly understood despite the two countries being neighbors. Standing by the side of his only equal in the large group of Auschwitz soldiers, he let Wolff deal with the despicable village scum. The elder man was more experienced then Schneider, especially with such situations, but he allowed the Obersturmfuhrer to operate freely in a joint leadership. The events unfolded rather quickly as the Kriminalkommissar explained the situation to the Pollacks and had the Scharfuhrer translate it to him. Tugging slightly on the holster of his trusty Luger pistol, Schneider was weary of the villagers. For all they knew, these bastards could be the partisans to themselves. Makeshift bombs hidden beneath their rags, weapons, or anything else that could conceivably be hidden. Although, probably false thoughts, it was good to be on your toes.

The next twenty seconds passed in relative silence, as Schneider's eyes watched over the crowd like a hawk. There were no sudden movements and no one decided to speak up. Perhaps, his eyes weren't as keen as the aged Kriminalkommissar, who seemed to have gathered everything he needed to know from the people. Just by looking at them. Confused, he pondered what the Gestapo actually taught their officers. Some of the men joked from time to time about the fact they could read minds, but the rational Obersturmfuhrer doubted that. Cracking a slight smile, Schneider's gaze fixated on Wolff's finger and then the two story building. They would be burning the partisans to death and in the process, probably the entire town. "Ich beschäftige den parteigängerisch Abschaum. Es würde, wenn wir mindestens ein lebendig hielten, außerdem am besten sein. Ich bin sicher, dass ein Mann Ihrer Sachkenntnis in der Lage sein würde, reichliche Informationen von solchem Schmutz einzuholen. "

Easing his grip away from the holster, he instructed his men to stay put for the time being as he ventured to the rear of the truck. Pulling the tailgate down from its latches, he climbed in and began to push the cans of gasoline towards the edge of the truck for easy access. Leaping from the rear of the truck, he brushed his hands together to get rid of the residue of spilt oil left over on the cans. "Jaekel, Krueger, Vogel und Kugler helfen mir mit dem Benzin. Der Rest von Ihnen halten ein Auge auf jenen Ratten. Wer weiß, wenn sie alles versuchen konnten, wenn sie ihre Häuser sehen, oben in Flammen zu gehen. " The four men, a mixture of two corporals and two privates, abandoned their posts near their new "prisoners" and approached the Obersturmfuhrer where they would unload the cans of gasoline. Schneider grabbed one for himself as well as a large towel, most likely for cleaning off any oil, for the purpose of setting the first man off fire. It was always best to keep one bastard alive.

Pouring the the leftover gasoline out of the cans, the men made sure to coat the outer walls of the building with as much gasoline as they could manage. All the while, they kept an eye out for movement within the building and tried not to get any of the gasoline on themselves. Unless, they wished to burn as soon as the fuel was set alight. Dropping the empty cans near the villagers, Schneider reached inside one of his pockets and pulled out a small box of matches. Usually, he used the matches to light cigarettes if his lighter wasn't working, but this situation was best for a match. Wiping his hands off with the towel to ensure he didn't set himself ablaze, he finally struck the match tip against the side of the box. The wooden stick was set on fire and the Oberstrumfuhrer didn't hesitate tossing it forward at a small pool of gasoline resting below the building. The fire spread quickly and soon began to devour the entire building with its flames. Calmly standing near the entrance with the four men aiming their rifles at the door, he played the waiting game.

The flames began too much for one man, who hurled himself threw an open window on the first floor. He rolled on the ground, the outer layer of his clothes already on fire. "Halten Sie Ihr Feuer! Sie können die folgenden töten, wenn Sie wünschen. " Schneider lunged forward and threw the towel over the man. He patted the fire out with force, disgusted that he was actually saving the man's life. The fire hadn't the chance to burn through the layers of clothing and the man would manage to stay alive. Dragging him by the collar, he tossed him in with the rest of the crowd. Kriminalkommissar Wolff would choose what to do with the new prisoner. Over the next few minutes, only a few men ventured forward from the building, only to be cut down by rifle fire. The rest were most likely burning inside or attempting to escape from the back somehow, the reason Schneider had sent a Corporal around to watch for any others who managed to escape by other means. The flames were so beautiful as they burned the building down.

Translations:

- "I will deal with the partisan scum. It would be best if we at least kept one alive, as well. I am sure a man of your expertise would be able to obtain plentiful information from such filth."

- "Jaekel, Krueger, Vogel, and Kugler help me with the gasoline. The rest of you keep an eye on those rats. Who knows if they might try anything when they see their homes go up in flames."

- "Hold your fire! You can kill the next ones if you want."

[Deleted]

It only took Otto a few minutes, eyeing the poles like a bloodhound, intent on finding his man. He seemed to gather what he needed just by looking at one shabby grey-haired old man who Hautt would have labelled as harmless long before. Still, the Kriminalkommissar's advanced aging and experience won over Hautt, who had been wondering why they were even there. His thoughts were put to rest when Otto ordered the buildings to be burned, along with whatever, and whoever, was inside.

One man managed to escape the fire, immediately taken down with a quick lunge of Erik's towel, putting him out, and keeping him alive, at least until they were finished questioning him, after which he would most likely be put to hard labor, or execution. A few others came out at last, each promptly filled with several bullets in the chest. A few screams could be heard inside the burning buildings, proof that at least one was burned alive. "Es ist ein Mitleid. Wenn es ich wäre, würde ich meinem Land wenigstens einen Gefallen tun und meinem Feind ihre Kugeln nehmen," he said to noone in particular, removing his helmet and saluting, not in respect to the enemy, but to the drops of precious petrol used in service of the services needs.

Just in case Schneider or Wolff thought he was doing so for their dead foes, he spit on the ground and sent a rude gesture in the direction of the dead corpses. Putting his helmet back on, he turned to Erik, eyeballing the still-smoking lump of Pole, blackened towel and all. "Wenn es nicht aus Stelle, Herrn Obersturmführer, ist, machen wir was mit ihm?" he asked respectfully, not sure he was even going to be answered. If he was to be interrogated, Hautt wanted to be a part of it, but his past two weeks of labor had made him less bold, and he was not about to ask either directly if he could take part.

Hell, he would even be willing to take part if it was just Einsatzgruppen routine, shooting prisoners and such. Dull, boring, easy duty. He had made a pact the week before that he would do as much as he could, as often as he could, no matter the physical or mental toll. He would just have to make up for it when me went back to Germany. The first thing he was going to do was stuff his face, buy drink for everyone in the nearest pub, and then sleep for two days straight, going back to the real work... the real fuel of the German War Machine, the job that was really winning the war, saving lives, and making Germany the greatest country on the planet.

Paperwork.


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Translations:

"Es ist ein Mitleid. Wenn es ich wäre, würde ich meinem Land wenigstens einen Gefallen tun und meinem Feind ihre Kugeln nehmen,"
"It's a pity. If it were me, I would at least do my country a favor and deprive my enemy of their bullets,"

"Wenn es nicht aus Stelle, Herrn Obersturmführer, ist, machen wir was mit ihm?"
"If it's not out of place, sir Obersturmführer, what do we do with him?"