The New Guy?

[∬Hartwig Kriegheld]

The field behind the tree-line thundered with the sound of vehicles. Trucks and half-tracks unloaded men to the ground. they were soon in formation and so ordered into the woods for tactical training. All the men had begun movements into the woods in order to secure a base at the other end of the woods. It was almost 12 kilometres to the other side where the 2nd SS would meet up with a detachment of the 9th SS who held the bunker on the other side. Every rifle had been emptied and no ammunition was allowed on the field, aside from officers who were always entitled.

Since the training was based more on small units led by NCOs, the two major officers on the field, Sturmbannführer Wolfram and Hauptsturmführer Kriegheld, stayed behind the line to watch how it went. the troops moved slowly, conserving their energy, allowing for discussion to take place in the buzzing environment.

Kriegheld was finally on a training mission with his commanding the officer. The two had hardly met since he had come with orders to the unit. The German officer had heard later that the two lieutenants in the room had been vying for second-in-command and lost when he had been transferred into the unit from, coincidentally, the 9th SS. Kriegheld smiled at the thought, the men were obviously not so attached to Nazism if they were being competitive for the rank. No, Kriegheld was better than that. He was promoted for winning a number of battles. He had also been awarded the Iron Cross, 2nd Class for his second battle while a member of the 2nd SS.

Hartwig hated of thinking of himself as superior to other members of the unit, but he was surprised that he had not met with the commander once since he had joined the unit, what with all the frivolous honours being bestowed upon him. The man was modest though, he had tucked his Iron Cross away, not even the ribbon adorned the Flacktarn he wore. His helmet rattled a bit as he trudged through the dry woods with his Stg45 at hanging limply at his side in his right hand.

He fingered the empty clip and thought about his life. The commander, Rafael Wolfram, had finally returned from Berlin. Hartwig admired him. He had heard all of the stories and he knew courage and valour when he saw it. The man was certainly one of them. He was also known as a killer, something the two had in common. a smile came to the officer's face as he thought of the chances to come and things he could learn from the officer. The man must be a true National Socialist.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

“Shh…” Sturmbannführer Wolfram hissed from between his parting lips, a single gloved finger raising towards his mouth, as he dauntingly glared upon a small squad of soldiers making a little too much noise for his liking. The clunking of their jackboots sounding like a pattering swarm of iron feet and their trivial mumbles a little to coherent, it seemed quite notable now as to why they were being trained, the SS were slacking and it seemed as if moving across terrain quietly prohibited a skill in doing so? Foolish, he thought at first, but now, he could quite understand why these imbeciles needed the training to be quiet and efficient on the battlefield. Perhaps the Wolfram gene wasn’t in everyone after-all.

Shifting his MP44 comfortingly against his side, Sturmbannführer Wolfram took initiative of the moment to adjust his waistline belt higher for comfort, before pulling at the skirted bottom of his green smock to hang loosely against his upper thighs. Since the autumn smocks had been created, with additional upgrades, the Sturmbannführer found it hard to use the older smocks again - for starters, the beltline was much lower and the green outdated smock had chest vents slit into the fabric and the vertical slits made, allowing the person to slip a hand into their uniform beneath, were much wider. So overall, the green smock he was wearing was outdated and draftee, but perfect for the environment they were making ground on advancing through. A patterned green wasn’t such a bad colour.

Hanging back, Sturmbannführer Wolfram allowed the men to gain better stability by themselves and advance casually, aware to their rendezvous with the 9th SS holding down a bunker; Plus, it gave him a little time to acquaint with his second-in-command and proudly decorated Hauptsturmführer of the 2nd SS.

Tarnishing his lips with a firm lick, the blue eyed male, barely noticeable for being Sturmbannführer Wolfram from beneath the low visor of his field-cap, turned to await the approach of the fellow officer; Whilst everyone continued to move on by himself, having heard no orders to seize their advance. As the male approached, Sturmbannführer Wolfram grinned to himself uncontrollably and took a few small steps into the general path of the officer, as to cut him off. “Amperestunde… Hauptsturmführer Kriegheld, treffen wir wieder” the Sturmbannführer said with a firm, curious tone. A brief raise to his hand made in respect to a salute, but the occasion needed no more ego to be displayed, as he simply dropped his arm to continue speaking. “Sie sind durchaus der Führer, den ich höre, Glückwünsche auf Ihrer Dekoration gewesen. Besseres verspätetes dann nie” he spoke with a profound gratification, whilst his pearly blue eyes lisped down the officer’s chest, noticing the concealment made upon the man’s behalf - being modest was not being German, in his eyes.

Reaching out, Sturmbannführer Wolfram grabbed at the Hauptsturmführer’s tunic folds and tugged them back, as to display the ribbon of his proudly earned iron-cross, second-class. Grinning once again, the devious Sturmbannführer let go, once he’d smoothed out his rough pulling at the folded fabric of the tunic. “Dort schauen Sie viel Stattlicher” he complimented with a hard tone, subliminally telling the officer to never crumple - he had earned the right to wear and display his decoration openly and so, he shall, whether it were a note the fellow officer would take away from the departing of the Sturmbannführer’s company or not was another question; For now however, the Sturmbannführer wanted the man to be proud and bold. Always.

Taking a step back, Sturmbannführer Wolfram gave the fellow Hauptsturmführer the one long look over, finding it hard to believe just how much the man represented himself not so long ago. He had high hopes for the officer, truly high hopes. “Gekommen, lassen Sie uns gehen. Wir müssen mit den Männern aufrechterhalten” he finally said, noticing the men were moving a little faster than he anticipated.

OOC: Feel free to mod any walks or pass time. Ever so sorry about the late post.


Translations:[/b]

Amperestunde… Hauptsturmführer Kriegheld, treffen wir wieder.
~ Ah... Hauptsturmführer Kriegheld, we meet again.

Sie sind durchaus der Führer, den ich höre, Glückwünsche auf Ihrer Dekoration gewesen. Besseres verspätetes dann nie
~ You have proven to be quite the leader I hear, congratulations on your decoration. Better belated then never

Dort schauen Sie viel stattlicher.
~ There, you look much more handsome.

Gekommen, lassen Sie uns gehen. Wir müssen mit den Männern aufrechterhalten.
~ Come, let us walk. We must keep up with the men.