D-DAY (Omaha Beach) BATTLE-THREAD!

[PuNk! ™]

D-DAY, Omaha Beach
Normandy - France.

(1944, June 6th)[/center]

The Following map will NOT be edited with Character Locations…
So Please use descriptive posts to state your advancement/location, otherwise your post/s may become VOID.
~ Thank You![/I]

Conditions: Breezy, Overcast.
Time: 1830hrs (6:30pm)

Depressing… One of a million words to describe the ‘already’ unfolding scenes amongst Omaha Beach. Previous waves had already hit the beach line, faced with fierce-might that’d caught the Allied Advancements off guard. Twisted and Wrecked infantry transport boats littering the shallow waters, either hitting underwater obstacles or being faced with a premature attack by the Axis along the hilltops within the short distance.

Blood had already stained the dirt upon’ the beach of Omaha, as the tides began to turn a crimson red and the sand no-different. Bodies scattered no further than 50 to a 100yards from the shallow water amongst the beach, concluding their efforts had been wasted - the Allied invasion was at great peril and already, too many lives had been lost to this major infiltration into France.

One wave remained…
Lead by Captain Matherson, the last Senior CO amongst the Invasion Battalion, already narrowed down to a mere ‘Company’ - they’d have to use more wits than Braun to survive, let alone capture the beach-head.

Captain Wolfram, the Axis Commander, was already caught off-guard by the surprise invasion of the Allied Attack, only now having a mere two platoons to govern the Beach-Head bunks, MG Nests. Weak points still open for capture, due to lack’ of time to build more defences.

Either side could win the battle…

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

Posting Order:
1st Post - CAPTAIN MATHERSON
2nd Post - CAPTAIN WOLFRAM
3rd Post - ALLIED CHARACTER (no particular order)
4th Post - AXIS CHARACTER (no particular order)
ETC……..

After every 2 posts, depending upon actions, I will mark.
There is no particular order, but the VERY first TWO POSTS must be from the Commanding Officers, stating who’s where with what units.

Then the games begin…
Best of luck people,
~Danny

[Captain Matherson]

Ooc: I make a few small assumptions in this thread based upon what actually happened in real life. If anything is wrong with it Punk, just let me know.

Bic: Captain Matherson couldn’t help but look to his sea-drenched boots, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and uttering an earnest curse. The whole bloody mission is going to hell! So far, all the Allied waves which had landed ahead of them had been unsuccessful in making it up the beach towards the German bunkers and defensive positions. Thousands of men. Thousand of men were strewn, dead or dying across the beach, their blood soaking the sand, with the few pockets of survivors left either completely leaderless or ripped so close to shreds that their fire was albeit ineffective.

Boom! An artillery shell landed not far off the left hand side of the boat, and it rocked everyone around inside of it, sending torrents of salty water splashing over the edges, drenching Matherson and his men (If they hadn’t already been soaked through). He grabbed the rail of the boat for support, so that he didn’t end up on the floor. ”Keep it steady! Stay on your course!”

The driver of the boat, further to the rear was doing his best to make it towards the beach with all speed, whilst fighting the powerful current. Hopefully his best will be enough, Chris thought as he clenched his right hand, gripped solemnly around the master handle of his Thompson sub-machine gun, raining water from the buffering waves and shuddering artillery strikes, pattering against the slick metal of the weapon. Hopefully all of our bests will be enough.

Regaining his balance, Chris turned back around to look out to sea. One of the American destroyers, Frankford, which had been lending naval gunfire support for the last few hours was driving straight to shore. With a quiver of grief, the Captain thought she might have been critically wounded and being run aground, but at the last moment, only a mere 1000 yards out from shore, close enough to be scraping the bottom, the warship rocked to the left and showed her broadside to the beach, firing again at their target over the tops of the allied landing crafts. The explosions of the tremendously powerful guns blowing the enemy bluff to smithereens pounded against Chris’ ears; but the destroyer’s bombardment hadn’t caused a break in the enemy’s defenses for the last landing waves, and he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. He did know something the naval gunship could do for him though, grabbing the robust radio from his belt. ”Frankford battery, this is Fox Green Command. Request for divert of beach bombardment, over.”

The radio crackled to life after a few seconds, the voice husky and deep against the constant explosions and shuddering gunfire, ”Green Command, this Frankford. Send new co-ordinates over.”

Matherson didn’t have any co-ordinates, and he didn’t have the time to calculate them, ”Frankford, I need you to bombard the beach itself. Envelop the area from the gun shelf to 300 yards in over.” The radio was silent for a while, and the Captain was hoping to God that they weren’t about to deny him his request. But then…

”Wilco, Green Command. Firing. Out.”

The air time for the shells would be about ten seconds, plenty of time before his boats actually hit ashore. The reason for him calling in the bombardment was that, despite all the obstacles and potential cover that was strewn across the beach, a few decent craters here and there to dive into would be essential. Adjusting the frequency of his radio to his own platoons, he spoke again into the mike, ”Green One, Three and Four. This is Green Two. The Frankford will be firing on the beach to give us some extra cover. Make sure you use the obstacles and craters you have to your best advantage to assault the bluff.” He waited for a moment, before he continued. His last command had been simple common sense, now came the real orders, ”Green One, after you land immediately establish your position south of the landing site, and push through to the northern weak point. Green Three, establish yourselves at your landing site and proceed to push through to the middle weak point. Green Two will provide supporting gunfire for both of you.”

Now came Platoon #4… which was the most isolated of the four due to the current and which Matherson predicted would land further south than any other of his platoons. ”Green Four Command, Two will be out of range to support you. However with sufficient cover you will be able to assault the southern weak point. Everyone get behind their line of fire and force a retreat before we sustain massive amounts of casualties. Report back regularly, and God’s speed gentlemen… Out.”

He fumbled with the radio to place in back on his belt. His command structure had been greatly reduced since the first few waves. He was commanding Platoon Two, a Lieutenant was commanding Platoon Three, a First Sergeant was commanding Platoon Four and, god help me, a Corporal was in charge of Platoon One. But as the boats neared the sand, there was little time to think about it.

The Captain noticed that Frankford’s bombardment had created a fair few craters on the beach, and it had also, to his relief, created a few small, isolated grass fires which were sending hazy smoke into the air in places. At least that will mask our approach… a little…

Then the doors opened.

The heavy steel ramps thundered into the sand, spraying water everywhere and Captain Matherson leapt out of the boat first and foremost, his combat boots thudding into the soggy sand, sinking half an inch as he immediately searched for any cover available, anything that would protect him from a lead-induced death. The Struggle for the Bloody Ohama, had begun…

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: I want to keep the realism, so I’m talking in German with my character. If it’s annoying, just say! Same with other German units, just PM/Say in your post and I’ll stop. Hate to confuse you.

IC:
The tide became a sight for sore eyes, as the forecast winds drifted amongst the dead on the beach, the Allied assault in shambles. This was only one of many beaches being captured - so Captain Wolfram had heard, his radio-man muttering words down the tacky old mouth-piece, radio silence had broken, the Morse code machine now laid strewn across the Bunk’s back wall (solid concrete), Captain Wolfram’s aggression obviously shown vigorously amongst the men, yet his piercing blue eyes retained their focus and his firm plump moist lips coiled into a wide grin… He was enjoying this…

Striding his pale hand up towards the cap of his Uniform hat, the Captain twisted it from off his head, his natural blonde hair elegantly shimmering against the cold breeze beating in through the narrow long opening in the Pillbox -- numerous MG 42’s (heavy calibre machineguns) stationed across the wall-side, two men occupying each gun, one for the trigger and the other for the ammunition. “Spucke auf den Schalen, behält sie haben geölt” the Captain said somewhat sternly towards the line of proud Nazis littering their posts, the Captain thumping his hat against the back of one of them, insinuating for a better spit into the ammo box, as they throatily moisturised the ammunition - running their rugged fingers down the shells roughly, lubricating them further.

“Feindliche Gefäße... Wieder Herr![/I] Shouted one of the soldiers at his post. Captain Wolfram quietly and patiently walked amongst the men again, overlooking the baring sea of death, the stench already making it’s way to the hilltops in which they sat comfortably. Wretched. “Erzählt, dass alle Kojen ihr Feuer halten, erwartet meinen Befehl” Captain Wolfram uttered out softly, looking back to his Radio-Man, watching as the man rallied a message down the small tacky mic towards all three bunks.

Sergeant Edzard Crimm had priority control over the Northern Bunk[/u], but lacking any further Officers - due to prior Allied assaults (previous waves), causing complications amongst the ranks, the Captain lacked Offical control over his men. As the Southern Bunk[/u] remained Unmanned by a NCO or CO, but listened to their orders via’ the Comms man - one of which was situated in each bunk, garrisoned towards the back of the room, away from the onslaught of fire at the front. Captain Wolfram, himself, had main control over the Middle Bunk (2nd Bunk)[/u], allowing himself freedom to run to either bunk if needed - let alone retreat…

Also, out of Sixty or so men under his command, twenty littered each bunk, a few of them (not doing much) did have orders to keep their rears secure, almost like watchmen? Patrols. For their fallbacks laid a stone’s throw away, easy enough to flee too due in the last-stand, if it ever occurred…

Rafael’s eyes gleamed in excitement as he grasped his rifle laying idle against the wall, gripping it tightly to narrowly face out of the slim opening - watching the injured and lone survivors on the beach still worriedly stay low, fearful to make any advancements - just how he liked it. All Axis firing had stopped momentarily, as the guns presumably made their main accuracy onto the boat vessels, suddenly dropping their bay-doors, one after another.

CRACK!

Captain Wolfram fired the first shot towards one of the middle boats, giving his ‘once silent’ signal to open fire again, but as Radio Silence was broken, the Captain waved his hand a little in gesture to the radio man, making sure he rallied the Order to fire anyway - incase anyone hadn’t realised his rifle shot. Particularly as his own Bunk suddenly grew ablaze after his single-shot, the MG 42s sparking into life, the noise tremendous, both from the gun firing -- to the empty shells clanging against the ground…


Translations:[/b]
~ Spucke auf den Schalen, behält sie haben geölt
Spit on those shells, keep them lubricated.

~Feindliche Gefäße... Wieder Herr!
Enemy vessels... Again, Sir!

~ Erzählt, dass alle Kojen ihr Feuer halten, erwartet meinen Befehl.
Tell all bunks to hold their fire, await my command.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:

Allied Effect:[/b]

Captain Matherson:
Artillery strikes haven’t been provided, but seeing as they didn’t engage the enemy -- then that’s entirely fine. I may throw in some items for either side to use as the thread moves on, depending upon post stature and situations, alike all wars - there will always be twists.

• The Artillery strikes pounded four to five foot mortar holes into the Earth, accidentally killing a few wounded on the beach in the process.
  
  
• Successfully bringing his Company to the beach-front, Captain Matherson successfully found nearby cover without fault or damage.
  
  

Axis Effect:[/b]

Captain Wolfram:
There are ‘Three’ MG 42s per’ Pillbox. (Equivalent of 6 soldiers manning them, per pillbox)

• Giving orders to fire, after a momentary elapse; the following damage was done…
  
  
• ~ Bunker 1
  - Killed 6 soldiers as bay doors open to Platoon #1’s boat, wounded a further 2. (22 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  
  
• ~ Bunker 2:: Is firing upon two boats at once.
  - Killed 5 soldiers from Platoon # 2, wounding a further 3. (23 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  - Killed 3 soldiers from Platoon #3, wounding a further 1. (26 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  
  
• ~ Bunker 3
  - Killed 7 soldiers, no wounded. (23 HEALTY soldiers remaining)
  
  Overall statistics:

[/b]
KIA (DEAD): 21
INJURED (Still eligible to fight, with help): 6 [/li][/ul]

~Danny

[Captain Matherson]

Ooc: Seeing as no-one else has replied yet, I’ll take advantage of this opportunity

Bic: The second Matherson’s feet had touched the soft, sucking sand of Ohama Beach, he had immediately kicked into ‘business’ mode. Whilst scanning for cover, he raised his Thompson to his shoulder and fired at the closest pillbox to him, the central gun emplacement. However it was a close-combat weapon, and the rounds had over 300 yards to travel, so although the bullets would make the distance fairly enough, the accuracy would be all over the place, and the Captain was relying on pot luck, or a sheer lack of such for an enemy to actually make a hit.

He ran forward, bullets hissing through the air and the heavy machine-gun fire from the above emplacements hammering constantly through the air. A line of dirt shooting up to knee height strafed in front of the Captain, narrowly missing him, as he dived himself into what might once have been a trench, but the tide had ruined it. All around him, soldiers from his platoons were ducking for cover, whether it was a crater, a tank-trap, or even the same long trench Chris was in.

He crawled to the ridge quickly, just under the line of fire from the machine guns, lead sizzling overhead and slamming into the sand mere feet above where he was lying. He rolled over onto his back, literally screaming verbal commands to be heard above explosive noise, pointing with his Thompson as he did so, ”Corporal! Bring your gun and set it up over by that ridge there! You! Set yours up over there by the Sergeant! All weapons free! Return fire on the central emplacement! Corporal, strafe your shots along the eastern side and make sure…Argh!” A bullet hissed into the ground beside Chris’s head, showering his helmet with sand, and with a profound swear he rolled back onto his stomach, and fired again at the bunker, this time with more intent on actually hitting something. When the magazine ran dry and the hammer was clicking into an empty chamber, he tossed aside the spent casing, fumbling for another as he rolled onto his back. ”... Make sure you keep your head down and the barrel cold! Smithson get the left flank ready to advance on my signal! Give the orders for a pepperbox so we can get ourselves out of this damned crossfire! Second Platoon, stay low and engage at will! Use those grass fires for cover in your movements! Fire and move then fire again! Don't stay in the same place and get suppressed! Keep your power on that central position!”

The whole battle was a massive haywire of shouts, explosions and hissing gunfire, but weren’t all battles? I hope the other four platoons are holding up under this pressure. The Captain was holding it together for the most part so far, and he only gave himself half a heartbeat to look back at the soldiers of his squad which had already been killed or wounded. But the gunfire was far too intense to risk moving out into the open to save them. All they could do now was pray, and hope, and shoot…

[monty2]

A slow wail rose out of his throat, husky but very much distraught. His eyes were now round, confused, not really his eyes anymore. More like the eyes of a trapped beast. At the start of the battle, he really didn't have to think, which really was preferred, because thinking really wasn't his strongest trait. He hadn't had to think so much while being here, only obeying the orders that were given to him, but suddenly he found himself probing the thoughts that he had been repressing.

They were killing people at a morbid rate, chopping down lives like they were nothing. From this distance, the spray of blood looked almost harmless when the bodies were pumped, and they merely looked as if they were dancing. He could hear their shots, but could not understand their words. Wouldn't have been able to, even if it was German. But the voices rose up above the gunfire, hovering over the battle, creating one voice until Cort imagined he could understand what the one Allied army was screaming.

Cort himself was not actually using the sparkly iron guns molded to the bunker, but was assigned to help a man who was. He didn't know this soldier's name, just like he didn't know the people he killed, which personified the enemy quite a bit more. Cort refilled the machine, and made sure of no overheating, which could not only keep the thing from not working, but also from exploding. A small explosion, mind, nothing more then a pop, but a pop which could be the end. These machines were your friends, and must be treated with tender respect. Cort fulfilled his duties perfectly until this last boat landed onto the shore, lowering the great doors which released men. The bodies scrambled out, clawing around each other to escape confinement, and the orders were given. A spray of bullets crashed into the line of soldiers, crimson billows spreading out over the water and sand where they fell. That did not hinder the on come of survivors, who flattened their dead or dying comrades without a second thought. They were like cattle.

That was when Cort had ceased functioning. His hands drew up, wiping at the front of his uniform like he was trying to undirty his palms. Cort looked behind him, unable to see the eyes of the men he worked with. He was panicking now, unable to stabilize his erratic thoughts as the enormity of their situation crushed him, squeezing his lungs until his breathing came sharp and pained.
Weak country boy. He needed to stop thinking so much.

[PuNk! ™]

Sorry Guys and Girls;
I screwed up this post - use the next moderation post.

I Accidentally deleted the post, whilst copying the template for my next Moderation post; so yeah, duh!

~Danny

[Daniel Brennan]

The small, grey landing craft, sliced cleanly through a wave and sped on quickly towards the beach. Daniel looked behind him at the sound of someone getting sick. A few men looked up, but most if them stayed down; huddled on the ground. Daniel knew that they didn't trust him. He was after all, only a corporal, and he had yet to prove himself to them.

Daniel sighed, and finaly spoke up, "Ok, lads! When he had got their attention, he started explaining the situation, "When that landing gate opens; All hell is gona break loose, but I dont want anyone to panic. When that gate opens, you are gona run as fast as you can, up the beach towards those spikey things. -Hedgehogs I think they are called!- You will NOT stop to pick up any wounded comrades. You will NOT, try to pillage supplies off dead bodies, you will just try to get to the relative safety of the first line of Hedgehogs.". Daniel looked behind him at the ramp, before continuing, "When we get up there you will relode -Thats if you've fired anything- and then find a partner and start making your way up the beach. You and your partener will cover each other as best as you can. One of you will start firing at the pillbox to get their attention, while the other of you runs up the beach towards the next line of obstacles. Then the process is repeated for the person who stayed behind."

The boat went over a wave, and Daniel had a split second view of a barren beach, covered in bodies. and the shallow sea full of wrecked landing craft. The boat was nearly there. Daniel turned around and looked at his platoon, once more, "Good luck, lads". The ramp fell. All hell broke loose.

Daniel was the first one out of the boat. He had just jumped out into the thigh deep water, when the MG42 opened fire at them. The water around was turned into a whirlpool of bullets and Daniel heard the dying screams of some of the men behind him. He almost looked back, but he forced himself onward. He slipped out onto the beach and made a short run over to the obstacles. There, he fired a couple of shots from his rifle, up towards the bunker. "Cover me" he muttered to a trembling Private who was beside him. Then, without checking to see if he had heard him, he ran up the beach, jumped across a ditch, and dived into a hole in the ground, made by artillery. He peeked up out of the hole, and empetied the rest of his rifle round towards the bunker. He slipped back down the whole again, and realoded.

OOC: I'm tired so there is a lot of mistakes.

[Naga Warasaki]

Nothing. The one word that spun through his mind as he sat there in the silence, bathed in the shadow of the evening sun, unmoving. His gaze intent barely stirred not knowing if life escaped him or he escaped it. Naga had to look away, had to get out of there. The increasing urgency drummed its pulse to the heighten tension of the ensnared sound.

It was too close of a call. Had the strike been few feet closer, their bunker would have been done for. Naga caught himself before acting out on rash impulse. To run from a battlefield would bring great shame to the Emperor and his superior Wolfram. No pride came from defeat. The young soldier had learned this all too well and knew fully of the obligations he needed to carry out.

Shame, anger, fear combined in a troubled mixed emotion as Naga now claimed the artillery and the field before him. The shame the Allied placed him through he planned to return and with it came death.

Position: middle bunker assigned in 2nd SS division

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:

Allied Effect:[/b]

Corporal, Daniel Brennan:

• Giving fully clear, instructed orders. Daniel has began his advance up the beach with a suitable means necessary (Fire, move, fire, move), but at a gradual slow rate.
  
  
• Due to Platoon #1 & 2 making their slow advancement, they have found survivors, as follows…
  
  
• PLATOON #1: Have also come across 4 healthy soldiers huddled together on the beach, shaken-up, but ready to fight. Boosting the number from; 20 soldiers, to 24.
  
  
• PLATOON #2: Have found 3 healthy soldiers, willing to fight. Boosting the number from; 21, to 24 also.
  

Axis Effect:[/b]

Corporal, Naga Warasaki:
You haven’t stated whether you’re on one of the MG 42’s or anything? So I can hardly mark for your character…

PillBox Damage:[/b]

• ~ Bunker 1
  - Killed a further 1 soldier from Platoon #1, wounding a further 0 (23 Healthy Soldiers Remaining!)
  
  
• ~ Bunker 2:: Is firing upon two boats at once.
  - Killed 0 soldiers from Platoon # 2, wounding a further 0. (24 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  - Killed 2 soldiers from Platoon #3, wounding a further 0. (21 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  
  
• ~ Bunker 3
  - Killed 1 soldier from platoon #4, wounding a further 0. (20 HEALTY soldiers remaining)

Overall statistics:[/b]
Survivors Found: 7
KIA (DEAD) [TOTAL]: 31
INJURED (Still eligible to fight, with help): 10

~Danny

[Daniel Brennan]

Daniel hudled at the bottom of the hole and waited for a break in the machine-gun firing so he could talk. When the opportunity arose, he looked over at the three men who were in the hole with him, "We are too far north" Daniel stooped talking due to the fact that a morter had landed near them. When his ears stopped ringing, he continued, "I want you guys to cover me while I make my way over to that big crater to the left of us" Daniel sat up for a second and pointed out the shell hole, "See it? Theres a handful of men that have already taken cover there, and I'll get them to provide some cover so that you can get over".

Daniel looked over at the other hole again, trying to judge how quick he could get there. If he ran as fast as he could he might get there in just under ten seconds. Daniel grabbed his pack, and started throwing away items that weren't needed. He hoped to take the beach before the end of the day, so he wouldn't need all these rations. He threw out a few other virtualy worthless things before closing up his pack again. "Ok ........... Fire!" Daniel heard the sounds of the weapons firing behind him, and he felt the sand around him being torn up by machine-gun bullets. Then, a morter shell came out of nowhere and exploded right beside him. Daniel was thrown sideways onto the ground, and nearly knocked unconcious. He could feel a loud ringing in his ears, and he had a bruised arm, but other that that, he was alright.

He pulled himself up to his feet, and sprinted a few metres, to the shell hole that he had been aiming to get to. The six men who were inside, looked up as he came sliding in. They were mosty Privates from his own platoon. "Open fire on the bunker" Daniel coughed. He pulled himself up to the edge and started firing.

OOC- I don't feel that its quite up to scratch, but meh ...

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

Everything seemed to be going as planned, as Captain Wolfram eagerly walked amongst the ranks of men at the narrow opening to the bunk, folding his hands behind his back a little, as his fine polished boots, that ironically always seemed to look so brand-new, clicked against the hard congregated concrete flooring beneath them. “Sie zeigen wahre Kraft!” the Captain shouted somewhat, amongst the hard brizzling muzzle fire of the MG 42s, blazing like sky rockets, downwards towards the beach with their Multan lava shrapnel.

Clunking against the Captain’s side was his MP 40, a fine polished silver encased sub machinegun and his fine black SS uniform crimpling against his posture, to every step he took, observing the men before him. Slowly coming to a stop, the Captain softly rested one of his hands upon the shoulder to one of his fine young Corporals - Naga Warasaki, who seemed a little unnerved at the situation at hand. Standing behind the young Enlisted Officer, Captain Wolfram gripped at the male’s shoulder tightly, almost fatherly? As if he was reassuring him silently, everything will be okay.

The Captain’s mouth just dropped ajar, about to say something else, until someone fell within the Bunk, presumably hurt. “Behalten Sie zu feuern!!! Sie werden Ihrer Kraft und Spannkraft keine Zurückhaltung für das Vaterland zeigen!” he suddenly sprawled out from the pit of his lungs, almost shouting, but shouted with true exuberance for strength and beauty to Germany, before the Captain briskly pushed off his heels to kneel before the wounded man, fumbling open the Soldier’s shirt - he was indeed shot, wounded.

“Naga! Obergefreiter! Besetzt dass MG 42!” the Captain barked somewhat towards the unnerved male, needing someone to replace the injured gunner, Wolfram obviously personally wanting the Corporal to do so, as he extending his arm out to push back a fellow Soldier who instinctively went to man the gun himself.

After the Captain gave his quick order towards the Corporal (Naga Warasaki), he cuffed his arms up beneath the wounded man’s shoulders and chest to drag towards the back of the bunker, giving the man a good firm pat on the shoulder - as if to say, “Good work”. Turning to his Bunk at hand, with quite a lot of men standing by almost, the Captain sprawled out with another demand. “Sie und Sie... Holen Sie‘ Eimer des Wassers vom Hahnhinterland, müssen wir die Gewehre abkühlen” the Captain ordered towards two men standing idle, before twisting his body to grab the ‘Fire Bucket’ full with sand and toss empty against the back wall, before throwing the red looking bucket into their grasp. “JETZT!” he barked towards them, giving a real daring stare, as they suddenly sprung off their feet towards the small tap like mechanism behind the bunk - ready to fill up the bucket for cooling the guns.


Translations:[/b]

Sie zeigen wahre Kraft!
~ You’re showing true strength!

Behalten Sie zu feuern!!! Sie werden Ihrer Kraft und Spannkraft keine Zurückhaltung für das Vaterland zeigen!
~ Keep firing!!! You will show no restraint to your strength and resilience for the Fatherland!

Naga! Obergefreiter! Besetzt dass MG 42!
~ Naga! Corporal! Man that MG 42!

Sie und Sie... Holen Sie‘ Eimer des Wassers vom Hahnhinterland, müssen wir die Gewehre abkühlen
~ You and You... Fetch' buckets of water from the tap outback, we need to cool those guns

JETZT!
~ NOW!

[Stephen Colly]

The day that Stephen for one had been looking forward to, the day he would be going to France and fighting the Germans, and killing some hopefully.
His company, the corporal being Daniel Brennan, had loaded saftly onto the boat, some men's spirits were high and full of excitement, others were low and wondered.

Stephen's spirits had been fine until the coast line had come into view, and the guns, and the cries for help. He leaned over the side of the boat, his mouth wide open as he watched in horror as man after man went down, Corporal Brennan's words went straight over his head, his brain had sort of gone into mental shut down.

The ramp went down, and Stephen ran, ducking and dodging bullets as they came, hearing and seeing his comrades go down, Stephen clutched his rifle in his hands, not shooting as he felt there were too much shooting going on, he and the others reached the beach and staggered up, wet and cold, Stephen's heart was pounding so fast he could barely breath, his breath came in rasps as he clammbered up the sand, men falling all around him.

*The following part of your post has been made VOID, you may not run an entire beach front to the Sea-Wall in one post (where the bunks are). Sorry to be so strict, but I'm trying to be realistic - Thanks!*


He reached the sea wall and flung himself against it, he was exhausted, he knew he had to get out of here, he watched as men ran towards the sea wall too, and then were shot, a dead body fell near Stephen and he edged away from it, the soldier's face was blank and bloody. Stephen heard the voice of his Coropal, David had not made to the sea wall yet, Stephen could see him in the hole, seeing that they were firing, Stephen looked up at the bunker and shot up, the others at the sea wall quickly followed suit, there was mostly privates there with him.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/u]

Allied Effect:

Corporal, Daniel Brennan:

• Successfully making yet, another advancement, Daniel Brennan has incurred little wounding (Bruising, as you modded yourself) and managed to maintain a low posture in the new Crater, made from prior Artillery bombing.
  
  
• Corporal Brennan has also found another ‘THREE’ healthy soldiers to round up, who’re perhaps tired and shaken, but ready to fight none the less.
  
  
• From another yet mass shooting at (presumably Bunk #1? Far northern one), Corporal Brenna’s men have managed to wound/kill one of the MG 42 Gunners.
  (19 healthy Germans Remaining in Bunk #1 - beneath Edzard Crimm’s control)
  
  Private, Stephen Colly:
  
• Managing to get onto the beach primarily, okay. Stephen has began his advancement.
  
  
• Stephen must take refuge (best he can), predominately before he incurs any injuries from the MG nests.
  
  Axis Effect:
  
  Captain, Rafael Wolfram:
  
• The Captain has given clear and instructed orders to his bunk, coming across very informal and keeping everyone on their toes.
  
  
• The Guns have begun to be cooled also, greatly reducing the failure of the guns from jamming or overheating.
  

PillBox Damage:[/b]

• ~ Bunker 1
  - Killed a further 1 soldier from Platoon #1, wounding a further 0 (25 Healthy Soldiers Remaining! +3 they found from the beach)
  
  
• ~ Bunker 2:: Is firing upon two Platoons at once.
  - Killed 2 soldiers from Platoon # 2, wounding a further 0. (22 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  - Killed 0 soldiers from Platoon #3, wounding a further 0. (21 HEALTHY soldiers remaining)
  
  
• ~ Bunker 3
  - Killed 1 soldier from platoon #4, wounding a further 0. (19 HEALTY soldiers remaining)

Overall statistics:[/b]
Survivors Found: 10
KIA (DEAD) [TOTAL]: 35
INJURED (Still eligible to fight, with help): 10

~Danny

[monty2]

So Corty will be in the same bunker as Naga and Wolfram, for fun.

Somehow, the young soldier managed to get his body moving, following the example of his dignified captain, who almost seemed unimpressed by the whole situation. Cort was visibly shaking, almost to the point of being unable to continue with his duties. He fumbled with the….he wasn't even sure what it was called, only how to unload the old and update with the new. He was sure they told him the name explained all the parts of this machine, but the only thing that stuck through the grueling repetition was how to keep it from breaking.

So Cort fumbled, dropping a few slugs in the process of loading the gun, when a bullet whizzed so close to his face he could have felt his skin part. There was silence for a moment, then another penetrated the bunker, lodging itself into his gunner's chest. The man's face went from surprised rage to pain. He remained motionless for a second, like he was still at post, then he slid to the ground.

Cort blinked, his eyes and mouth becoming dry. He took a step back as the Captain sulled himself by dropping next to the fallen man, yelling at the Jap (who Cort was weary of) to maintain the gun. Cort did not instantly recognize this new man as a replacement, but even so Naga took hold of the guns. Cort looked back to the fallen gunner, now unmoving on the ground, and looked at the machine with dumb eyes. Shock set in, and his body took control only out of habit.