Pick Of The Litter. [18+ Rated // Open]

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC Notes: This thread will be explicit in content and I’m requesting a level of maturity to be advised. This thread is primarily open for one person, maximum two and both Axis & Neutral characters are welcome to enter. If you need more information, please PM me. I am following a set-plot…

Location: Unknown Private Work-Camp (Polish Jews), Poland.
Weather: Lightly snowing, chilly breeze.
Time: 1438hrs

The Polish roads were unstable and peerless to the roads back in Germany. Danger seemed to lurk around every curved corner and crevice, as the uneven terrain seemingly dipped, swivelled and abruptly changed aimlessly much like the pattern of the winds. Even the chauffer of the kübelwagen; SS-Rottenführer Kaiser Gerwulf, an experienced driver, friend and bodyguard of SS-Sturmbannführer Rafael Wolfram, had trouble keeping the automobile within a suitable means of control upon it’s leg of the journey against the diabolical frozen grit and dirt of the winding road. It didn’t take much for one of the rear-ended tyres to spin on the spot momentarily occasionally either, putting both the men’s hearts in their mouth every time it occurred, silent prayers being sent to heaven above that they weren’t about to fish-tail out of control and straight into the nearby rotten roadside ditch.

Approaching the sub-camp of a privateer work company for the Third Reich, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram gathered his identification papers between his leather gloved embraced hands and rolled down the glass window to his side in preparation as the kübelwagen slowed in speed and chugged to a gentle stop to the almost ten-foot barbed wire gates of the work-camp’s entrance. Immediately a German military field policeman - also known as a chain-dog, stepped out of a wooden guard booth to the side of the road and approached the passenger side window with a tentative nerve and posture, his dark oak looking Karbiner 98k rifle totting at the waist cautiously. His silver polished gorget with the Third Reich’s spread eagle symbol hung heavily around his neck and resting at his chest glimmered in the sunlight tantalizingly as he leant down to peer into the kübelwagen from the passenger window, forever observing.

“Herr Sturmbannführer” the chain-dog military policeman gestured, whilst also giving a vague raise of the hand in salute upon seeing the Schutzstaffel uniform. “Ich soll hier Sturmbannführer Reiner sehen - ich habe mehrere Konvoi-Lastwagen im Anschluss an hinten, sie sollten jederzeit bald ankommen.” The Sturmbannführer had left the convoy after one of the trucks to his transport convoy came off the road and got stuck into a sodden muddy ditch, it was rude to keep your host waiting and vital that Sturmbannführer Wolfram heeded a respectable and timely entrance, besides there wasn’t much he could do to help. “Er wird mich erwarten” he added, handing over his identification papers to the military policeman, whom nodded and turned to consult his guestbook back in the guard booth.

“Herr Sturmbannführer, schauen Sie auf jene polnischen Juden, was tun sie?”[/b] spoke Rottenführer Gerwulf who pointed with one of his own black gloved hands towards a group of Jews behind the gates and inside the camp who were running around in a large circle stark naked, kicking up mud and snow as their weak skinny limbs floundered tiredly. “Sie werden geprüft, um zu sehen, ob sie gesund genug sind, um zu arbeiten, sehen Sie die Ärzte Gerwulf?” Sturmbannführer Wolfram replied, nodding into the direction where a short distance away, three white men stood in long white (lab) coats with stethoscopes hanging around their necks and each of them wearing thin rimmed spectacles, all watching the Jews intently and pointing out to specific Jews regularly who were running around within the group, obviously declaring them unfit. A guard standing nearby would simply react to the pointing being made and drag the selected Jew away from the trotting group and march them off around the back of the workhouse, out of view.

Rottenführer Gerwulf nodded to himself solemnly, finding it all quite barbaric as he watched in silence from the driver‘s seat. Sturmbannführer Wolfram grinned on the other hand and noted the Rottenführer’s distaste mentally to himself, perhaps he needed to toughen-up the Rottenführer and desensitize him to the truth. Holding that thought, the military policeman returned with the Sturmbannführer’s documents in hand. “Herr Sturmbannführer, gehen Sie bitte durch. Heil Hitler!”[/I] the military policeman said, handing the Sturmbannführer his documents back and saluting with a stiff clack of the jackboots. Upfront the large barbed wire gates were being pulled open by a few uniformed guards and Rottenführer Gerwulf shifted the automobile into gear, driving into the work-camp slowly and following the fenced passage straight ahead. It wasn’t a death-camp, nor a badly run concentration camp, but rather a more efficient work-camp where the Polish Jews looked reasonably healthy - minus the minority currently being weeded out by the doctors within the camp nearby and being marched off somewhere out of sight and out of mind.


Translations:[/b]
Ich soll hier Sturmbannführer Reiner sehen - ich habe mehrere Konvoi-Lastwagen im Anschluss an hinten, sie sollten jederzeit bald ankommen.
- I am here to see Sturmbannführer Reiner - I have several convoy trucks following behind, they should arrive anytime soon.

Er wird mich erwarten.
- He will be expecting me.

Herr Sturmbannführer, schauen Sie auf jene polnischen Juden, was tun sie?”
- Herr Sturmbannführer, look at those Polish Jews, what are they doing?

Sie werden geprüft, um zu sehen, ob sie gesund genug sind, um zu arbeiten, sehen Sie die Ärzte Gerwulf?
- They're being tested to see if they're healthy enough to work, you see the doctors Gerwulf?

Herr Sturmbannführer, gehen Sie bitte durch. Heil Hitler!
- Herr Sturmbannführer, please go through. Hail Hitler!

[Franz Albrecht]

Snowflakes drifted through the air, the sky was dark with grey clouds. It was a uncomfortably cool afternoon in Poland. The sun would often make its self-visible but offer no warmth. Franz was given a tasking from headquarters to attend a work camp in the Polish countryside. The SD maintained a presence at every work site under the Third Reich. Their duty's often brought them to collect administrative documents from the Lagerführer and ensure everything was up to standard. These documents were intended for the local Gestapo office, they usually focused on the prisoners within that specific facility. On the way back to his grey Horch Kfz. 15 Albrecht was stopped by two SS officers that recognized him. They knew each other from the Allgemeine back in 1938. The men discussed the good old days over a cigarette, it seemed like forever ago.The war was always the topic of discussion no matter where you went and who you were with. Running into old comrades was a welcome event in such a grim time and place.

Franz hated visiting the camps. Poland was a miserable country but it was better than being further East. The Ukraine definitely took a toll on ones sanity, especially during that September of ’41. Running errands in Poland, representing the Sicherheitsdienst wasn’t too bad. The hours were long and quite stressful, the job also had an upside as well. Albrecht would often handle his business at the Arbeitslagers and local police stations as promptly as possible. The rest of his time was spent at HQ writing field reports. On days where there was no paper work to be handled Franz would have the afternoon to himself but remain "On call". During the conversation Franz’s attention drifted over toward a group of Jews who were undergoing selection.

Selection was to decide who can work and who could not. Those who could were offered by the SS to companys who paid the workers’ wages to back to the SS. The worker himself made nothing in most cases. The chance of survival for Jews was far greater if one had a work permit, without it a prisoner was deemed useless, useless certainly meant dead. The sound of a record changing over a loudspeaker echoed through the air. After a few moments music played loudly as the Jews jogged around the compound. Franz watched them, a brief shiver passed down his spine, it was freezing out here yet the prisoners were paraded in the nude. The condition of this location was “Better” compared to some the young officer had seen.

Albrecht then spotted a Kubelwagon pulling through the main gates of the camp, one of the guard had just received their papers. Located outside of the command office Franz respectfully excused himself from the two men, patting one on the shoulder with a smile. Being a member of the SD he often found himself being extremely noisy. It wasn’t really intentional, his training taught him to always remain aware, suspicious and isolated. This behavior was noted by the public, they didn't know how to take it and were often intimidated. Untersturmführer Albrecht stared on with a watchful eye as the barricade lifted and the kubel entered the inner camp grounds. The Feldgendarmerie disappeared inside the guard shack. Franz suddenly heard a loud phone ring inside the command office, it was picked up quickly.