Operation: ARYAN RISING

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

Terrain:[/b] Somewhere on the outskirts of Germany // Heavy woodlands & open fields.
Weather:[/b] Heavy downpour of rain, lightening and thunder in the distance.
Time: 2146hrs (9:46pm // Dark night sky)

--- Only SS Totenkopf members please! There can only be two members to join this, most and only join if you’re willing to take part in 18+ graphical nature threads to come. I do warn you. Thanks ---



The weather was atrocious as the heavy downpour of rain beat it’s way through the woodland’s high tree-tops, breaking weak and dry branches from every crevice of each and every tree’s fragile spouted branched limbs; some would say the natural downpour was relaxing, as the heaviest of droplets thumped against the out-stretched leaves dangling from high above or how the arising smell of damp from below the surface of the moistening soil and dirt soothed the senses and cleared the nasal passages. Tonight however, the smell and noise from each and every shimmering leaf coated by the weather’s downpour would bring back a memory of the night’s unfolding events.

Sturmbannführer Wolfram uneasily cradled a black leather briefcase under his armpit, whilst tugging up his long black trench-coat’s collar to shield his neck and face from the gusting wind and rain. One aspect of his dressed attire couldn’t be saved or altered however, as his once finely polished black jackboots sunk into the soft mudded earth and undergrowth of the woodland’s soil. Squelching his feet awkwardly, the Sturmbannführer was almost tiptoeing on his hind-heels as he made haste in approaching a dimly lit wooden cabin before himself; nicely settled in and amongst the trees, a single dirt road leading to the cabin was the only indication of the building’s existence and whereabouts.

Clumping his mudded boots up onto the wooden porch, Sturmbannführer Wolfram looked back towards the silver Kubelwagen that had drove him to the destination and the quietly sat driver remaining inside of the vehicle patiently. A silent, but deadly smirk phased across the Sturmbannführer’s lips callously, as he made a mental note of the driver’s incompetence to drive closer to the cabin, nor’ help him in any shape or form to the building it’s self with an umbrella or simple gesture of opening the door - The fool’s days were suddenly numbered. Shaking his collar down, the Sturmbannführer unhindered the briefcase from the clutch of his armpit and now loosely carried it by the handle within his left hand, whilst slowly turning to face the unguarded wooden door of the cabin with apprehension. A sign or emotion rarely noticed upon the Sturmbannführer.

Without even knocking, Sturmbannführer Wolfram pushing his gloved palm against the door’s heavy surface and stepped inwards soon after, the soft creaking of the damp wood indicating his presence before he’d even spoken or drawn a breath of the musky room’s enclosure. Within the room stood a sporadic number of uniformed bodies, whom turned to face the Sturmbannführer’s presence anxiously and silently. A few of the soldiers replaced their drink-glasses upon the side and immediately straightened up, clearing their throats and folding their arms up behind their backs; marking a sign of respect within the Sturmbannführer’s presence, whilst a few others sluggishly and reluctantly followed suit.

The room was particularly large, with game heads on the walls; particularly deer for an apparent reason and a single rug was sprawled across the center of the room’s floor. A lit fire crackled lightly against the far wall and a small bar towards the back quenched the men’s thirst. The room wasn’t to any grand design or significantly large, but rather small and homely, decorated to an art that suited both man and beast; officer and soldier. Eventually, Sturmbannführer Wolfram closed the door behind himself and quiet stiffly looked over the men’s faces, none of them knowing why they had been summoned there, but most of them couldn’t really care less, as they enjoyed the rare pleasures of drink and relaxation. A cautious few shared a worried look as soon as the Sturmbannführer had entered the room, one of them plucking up the courage to approach and assess the situation first hand - hoping for some answers; “Herr Sturmbannführer, kann ich fragen, warum wir hier aufgefordert worden sind?”[/I] the Unterscharführer asked sternly, his face scared by war, a man who knew his business and by far held experience over most of the baby faced men in the room, but Sturmbannführer Wolfram merely shook his head and walked straight by the man before himself, in lead of the bar.

Placing his hand upon the counter-top, the Sturmbannführer reached over the bar for a glass and casually clasped a bottle nearby to pour himself a drink. By now the room was eerily silent and with no answers being given, fear and worry began to set in, along with common sense. They were in the middle of nowhere, didn’t know why and their commanding officer seemed awkwardly silent? If none of them knew better, they’d been caught breaking the rules and was about to face a tough punishment, but why the lavish luxuries of drink, shelter and warmth? None of it made a blind notice of sense.

Sipping from his glass, Sturmbannführer Wolfram creased sideways within his leather trench-coat and looked towards the time on the wall behind the bar; a single clock ticking away the minutes hung on the wall, seemingly sounding louder and louder by the deafening silence. “Schließen Sie die Türen, drapieren Sie die Vorhänge und verschaffen Sie sich ein Getränk” the Sturmbannführer coldly said from almost beneath of his breath, as he took another dainty sip of his alluding drink and waited patiently for the men to comply with the orders given. His back facing the room the entire time, whilst small droplets of rain ran down his leather coat, beginning to form a small puddle of water about his feet…


Translations:[/b]

Herr Sturmbannführer, kann ich fragen, warum wir hier aufgefordert worden sind?
- can I ask why we have been requested here?

Schließen Sie die Türen, drapieren Sie die Vorhänge und verschaffen Sie sich ein Getränk.
- Lock the doors, drape the curtains and get yourself a drink.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

A downpour of rain transformed itself into a relaxing rhythm as it beat against the elevated tops of trees and the raised roof of the cabin hidden amongst the German countryside. The dirty blond hair of the Obersturmfuhrer, usually loaded with high quality German hair oil, whether it be for a neat, gentleman look or a sporadic, messy soldier appearance was lacking in quantity for once. The heavy droplets of rain that maneuvered through the protective branches and leaves of the trees, massaged Schneider's head in a gentle stream. Profuse amounts of the hair oil were washed away by nature's shower, tickling the officer's head as streams of water mixed with oil ran down his head and into the drenched soil of the woodlands. The Waffen SS officer stood alone outside the cabin, his back resting against the soaked, yet rather comfortable wood that made up the building.

The Obersturmfuhrer was alone, away from the odd bit of revelry of the soldiers inside who were enjoying the alcohol in the cabin with great enthusiasm. In the pouring rain, he gathered warmth from his regular sources, that he had grown use to during the bloody, unforgettable days of Operation Barbarossa and the dreadful winter of '41. His officer's overcoat, gray in color, was wrapped comfortably around him and shielded him from the elements, especially the rain that streamed down the sides of the coat. In his right hand rested a German cigarette, one of the last ones in his dwindling pack, he used his dominant hand to stabilize the delicate stick of tobacco between his lips. The other hand did its duty as well, well use to shielding the flame of the cigarette from rain, snow, and wind. The inhaled smoke brought warmth to his lungs and chest, while the gentle, small flame gave him feeling in his palms.

Schneider had picked up the nasty habit of smoking since his first days in Poland. It only grew worse in his bitter cold days fighting through the disgusting communist countryside that the Russian pigs called "home". Many of the men admired Schneider's passion for smoking, more out of curiosity on how he managed to do so in the first place. After all, no one knew if the almost mythical lung of his was still safeguarded behind his ribs or sitting in some Nazi hospital halfway across the country! After his horrible defeat at the hands of the Americans, the officer never spoke another word on the matter, which only made the tales grow.

Flicking his cigarette towards the ground, he dug the toe of his boot into the innocent cigarette and buried it into the moist soil in order to put it out. He wouldn't want the cabin to set ablaze when he was still inside. Briefly, he admired the design of the cabin, before setting his hand up against the door and gently pushing it open. The creak of the wooden door moving signaled his presence in the room, most of the men within silenced themselves as they turned to face what they expected to be the man who summoned them to the isolated cabin. Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram. They were disappointed, yet mildly pleased, to see it was only Obersturmfuhrer Schneider. The officer casually cleansed some of the mud off his jackboots, before making his entrance back into the room.

Stepping inside the homely cabin, which was decorated with the heads of many beasts, mainly deer however, Schneider immediately set his focus back onto the bar in the rear of the room. Searching through the bottles of alcohol, he found a suitable bottle, and poured the drink into his glass before rejoining the lively conversation between the men gathered in the large room. They believed the cabin to be owned by Wolfram, or at least someone related to him. Schneider continued a previous conversation with some of the younger officers in the room, discussing the recent politics of the war and the overall progress of the war. It was an intriguing conversation, enjoyable as well, but the Obersturmfuhrer couldn't help but find himself watching the minutes pass by on a clock on the wall as he waited and anticipated the arrival of the Sturmbannfuhrer.

It wasn't long before there was the well-known creak of wood as Wolfram made his grand entrance into the cabin. Schneider, out of pure instinct, set down his near empty glass of alcohol and straightened up in a respectful position as he watched his superior close the door behind him and head in the direction of the bar. He had slicked back his hair into the best looking state long ago, the wet mess was just beginning to dry as his eyes followed Wolfram. The awkward silence grew more intense as Wolfram poured himself a drink, a few of the men nervously itching as they watched his every move. Schneider made no move, though, instead he waited and expected orders. More importantly, he expected answers, answers that Wolfram could give in due time.

"Schließen Sie die Türen, drapieren Sie die Vorhänge und verschaffen Sie sich ein Getränk." There was a slight hesitation within the room, as the men all looked about at each other with confusion. No one was aware of what was truly going on, but all realized that they were in for an interesting night. The Obersturmfuhrer approached the entrance to the cabin and locked it, as a few men followed his lead and began to drape the curtains. It didn't seem necessary for a cabin hidden in the isolated depths of the woodlands, disguised in the relentless storm of rain and blackness of night. Nonetheless, he carried out the Sturmbannfuhrer's orders, even filling his glass up once more.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: If anyone else is going to join, be sure to do it after my post or soon after Erik’s! Thanks for joining Erik, happy you did. :]
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Standing tall, Sturmbannführer Wolfram took another dainty little sip of beverage from his cold misted glass, slowly warming by the radiant heat emitting from his gloved palms and remained eerily silent the entire time. This was most probably the first time many of them had seen the Sturmbannführer from out of the confines of his office in such a long period of time and during that time, a few minor and perhaps major details had changed with the man’s persona and appearance. To begin with, Sturmbannführer Wolfram no longer wore his thick long grey field coat, but rather an immaculate and perhaps slender looking black trench coat. At a mere glance, many would have assumed the Sturmbannführer to be the Gestapo himself, a man of sheer intelligence and wit, rather than experience and battle worn. It wasn’t to say he didn’t retain his large field coats, but ironically, he seemed to be wearing the one piece of attire that - perhaps colder and retained less heat - made him look far more menacing.

Whilst the pattering of feet and movement dragged about behind his back, along with the clunking of locks in regards to the door/s, Sturmbannführer Wolfram - reassured by the security now - lifted his briefcase from off the stool perched by his side and hip, slamming it onto the countertop in front of himself. By now, Obersturmführer Schneider had approached him and quietly refilled his glass with beverage, causing the Sturmbannführer to mildly pass a very brief smile, before continuing with what he was doing. Unclipping the two latches upon his briefcase, the Sturmbannführer merely lifted it open by a fraction of a few inches and slid his slender gloved hand in to drag out what he required. The remaining contents of the briefcase remained a mystery, as he stealthily and quickly closed his briefcase within seconds flat of retrieving what seemed to be papers.

Once the room had been secured, as can be, the Sturmbannführer rested the retrieved papers upon the top of his briefcase and turned to face the room. Roughly, there must have been twelve men in the room (excluding himself), ranging from the ranks of lesser NCOs to officers. It was a rarity to get the two together in a single small room, without arguments or authority breaking the limelight. Inhaling sharply, Sturmbannführer Wolfram spoke aloud; “Abendherren, Sie sind hier heute Abend auf die am meisten äußerste Aufgabe des Heimatlandes und des Reichs genannt worden.” he started with a brief introduction, whilst he began to remove his black leather gloves, one by one, placing them neatly upon the top of his briefcase - his eyes lingering slowly around the room at the listening eyes and ears. “Sie sind auch hier auf dem strengsten vom heimlichen Geschäft. Das beiseite sind Sie in erster Linie hier für Ihre Loyalität und Kraft. Folglich die Reihe-Lücken unter vielen von Ihnen…” he entailed, giving a little scepticism as to why soldier and officer have been selected tonight; not just a squad of NCOs or a handful of officers, but rather a disarray of ranked men.

Unfolding the pieces of paper retrieved from his briefcase, Sturmbannführer Wolfram grinned to himself wryly and glanced over between a few of the men’s faces. “Ich habe kürzlich recieved Wort von Gruppenführer Steiner auf Zustandangelegenheiten in Rücksichten auf das ethnische Reinigen, die Endlösung, und ich bin in den Befehl gelegt worden, eine hingebungsvolle Mission von der Spitze zu führen. In Verbindung mit Gestapo intellience und meiner neuen Geschichte bin ich passend gehalten worden, um eine der wichtigen Schlüsselmissionen zum Lassen die Endlösung von Hitler zu führen, eschewed” he foretold in a bold encouraging voice, as if he’d just gained a promotion, but truth be told, he was loyally bidding to Hitler’s dirty work. “Das ist, warum Sie alle heute Abend aufgefordert worden sind... Aber bevor ich noch weiter bei der Anweisung von Details betreffs unserer Aufgaben gehe, gibt es einen anderen Aspekt, den ich teilen muss, und das soll jede Ihrer Loyalität und Beobachtungen prüfen” he mysteriously announced, whilst undoing his leather trench coat.

Turning to look towards Obersturmführer Schneider, the Sturmbannführer continued; “Wir sollen mehrere Schlüsselziele übernehmen. Mit neuen Entdeckungen ist es dem Verbleib von Slawischen und jüdischen Unterschlupfen zusammen mit einem Hauptvorzugsziel offenbart worden, das bewahrt werden muss. Ich werde diese Papiere kurz verteilen…” he said in conjunction with the papers he was currently holding, retaining details on locations and estimated number of ethnical minorities in the area. Now however, he was about to drop a bomb-shell. “In diesem Augenblick jedoch muss ich Sturmmann Volks bitten, vorwärts zu stehen.” the Sturmbannführer ordered, but no-one stood forward, as the men looked amongst themselves silently. Turning to Obersturmführer Schneider, Sturmbannführer Wolfram pulled a callous look and spoke again; “So, es ist keine Überraschung. Sturmann Volks ist eine jüdische Ratte, und ich will Sie Obersturmführer, auf ihn aufzupassen. Nennen Sie das eine Mannschaft-Herausforderung? Wollen wir sehen, ob Sie Los seperate der Schaum von den Ariern können. Dann vielleicht können wir auf bedeutenderen Dingen danach angefangen werden” the Sturmbannführer spoke dryly, as he narrowed his eyes into thin slits, his red iris burning a hole into each of the faces he glared at; unclipping his holster subtly simultaneously.


Translations:[/b]

Abendherren, Sie sind hier heute Abend auf die am meisten äußerste Aufgabe des Heimatlandes und des Reichs genannt worden.
- Evening gentlemen, you have been called here tonight upon the utmost duty of the fatherland and the reich.

Sie sind auch hier auf dem strengsten vom heimlichen Geschäft. Das beiseite sind Sie in erster Linie hier für Ihre Loyalität und Kraft. Folglich die Reihe-Lücken unter vielen von Ihnen…
- You are here on the most strict of secret business. That aside, you are primarily here for your loyalty and strength. Hence the rank gaps amongst many of you...

Ich habe kürzlich recieved Wort von Gruppenführer Steiner auf Zustandangelegenheiten in Rücksichten auf das ethnische Reinigen, die Endlösung, und ich bin in den Befehl gelegt worden, eine hingebungsvolle Mission von der Spitze zu führen. In Verbindung mit Gestapo intellience und meiner neuen Geschichte bin ich passend gehalten worden, um eine der wichtigen Schlüsselmissionen zum Lassen die Endlösung von Hitler zu führen, geschehen.
- I have recently recieved word from Gruppenführer Steiner on state affairs in regards to ethnical cleansing, the final solution and I have been placed in command to lead a dedicated mission from the top. In conjunction with Gestapo intellience and my recent history, I have been deemed fit to lead one of the important key missions to making Hitler's final solution happen.

Das ist, warum Sie alle heute Abend aufgefordert worden sind... Aber bevor ich noch weiter bei der Anweisung von Details betreffs unserer Aufgaben gehe, gibt es einen anderen Aspekt, den ich teilen muss, und das soll jede Ihrer Loyalität und Beobachtungen prüfen.
- This is why you have all been summoned tonight... But before I go any further on briefing details as to our duties, there is one other aspect I must share and this is to test each of your loyalty and observations.

Wir sollen mehrere Schlüsselziele übernehmen. Mit neuen Entdeckungen ist es dem Verbleib von Slawischen und jüdischen Unterschlupfen zusammen mit einem Hauptvorzugsziel offenbart worden, das bewahrt werden muss. Ich werde diese Papiere kurz verteilen…
- We are to undertake several key objectives. With recent discoveries, it has been revealed to the whereabouts of Slavic and Jewish hideouts, along with one main priority target that must be kept alive. I'll pass these papers around shortly...

In diesem Augenblick jedoch muss ich Sturmmann Volks bitten, vorwärts zu stehen.
- Right now however, I must ask Sturmmann Volks to stand forward.

So, es ist keine Überraschung. Sturmann Volks ist eine jüdische Ratte, und ich will Sie Obersturmführer, auf ihn aufzupassen. Nennen Sie das eine Mannschaft-Herausforderung? Wollen wir sehen, ob Sie Los seperate der Schaum von den Ariern können. Dann vielleicht können wir auf bedeutenderen Dingen danach angefangen werden.
- Well, that's no surprise. Sturmann Volks is a Jewish rat and I want you Obersturmführer, to take care of him. Call this a team challenge? Let's see if you lot can seperate the scum from the Aryans. Then perhaps we can get started on more significant things after.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

Grasping the bottle by its neck, the contents of the exquisite, glass bottle emptied themselves into the glass firmly held in Schneider's left hand. He swirled the alcohol around in his glass in a swift, circular motion with his hand, slightly amused with the movements of the liquid as his hand manipulated its movement. He gently set the bottle back onto the bar, but not before twisting and turning it with his hand as if checking for a brand or name. Disappointed, he slipped his hand off the finely decorated glass when his attempts failed him. Time had slowed to a dreadful pace for the Obersturmfuhrer, as he stood near his Sturmbannfuhrer and respectively refilled his glass in silence. For a handful of moments, he could feel Wolfram's gaze on him, or at least thought he did.

Trading the glass off to his right hand, Schneider took a few steps towards the obscure group of Waffen SS soldiers and blended in with the small crowd of men, whilst staring onward at such a menacing figure like Wolfram. Of course, Schneider himself never felt terrified or mildly frightened of the Sturmbannfuhrer or his new appearance. The very first man in the division that Schneider met had been Wolfram and ever since than, he gave his utmost respect to his superior. Back then, there were both very different men. It was tough to say what Wolfram had gone through after leaving his son, Schneider didn't have the luxury of being back in the fatherland with the man when he lost his son to some sort of Slavic rebels. As time went on, the war had matured and shaped Schneider, but also deteriorated some of his sanity. The same could most likely be said for the dozen plus men in the cabin.

Patiently sipping his tantalizing beverage, Schneider listened to the Sturmbanfuhrer's words as he greeted the men. Now, he had retrieved some mysterious papers from his briefcase and was gently slipping his gloves from his hands. Allowing Wolfram's words to sing in, Schneider eagerly looked forward to the full details on this mission of ethnical cleansing. To be chosen as a vital asset for carrying out Hitler's final solution was exhilarating news, whether it was Hitler himself or Gruppenfuhrer Steiner who requested Wolfram to gather the men. The mention of Steiner brought back memories of Gruppenfuhrer Jaggen, a rather bulky, middle-aged man with a hot temper. The very first time Schneider stood in the same room as a man with such rank and authority, he had done so by Wolfram's side.

"So, es ist keine Überraschung. Sturmann Volks ist eine jüdische Ratte, und ich will Sie Obersturmführer, auf ihn aufzupassen. Nennen Sie das eine Mannschaft-Herausforderung? Wollen wir sehen, ob Sie Los seperate der Schaum von den Ariern können. Dann vielleicht können wir auf bedeutenderen Dingen danach angefangen werden." A sly grin formed on the Obersturmfuhrer's lips as he was directed to discover a Jewish rat, glad that the task had been bestowed upon him. His cool blue eyes shot to Wolfram's hip, nodding in agreement as he undid his holster. His lips curled upwards into a grin as he followed suit, turning on his heels to face the dozen or so men that had been summoned to the mysterious cabin. Taking one last sip, he placed his glass onto the surface of a wooden table. "Die ganze Sie! Bilden Sie eine Linie! " Schneider barked at the men, with ferocity in his voice. As they men scrambled into a line, he stopped them, "Zuerst entledigen Sie jedoch sich alle Ihre Waffen. Wir wünschen nicht einen Juden mit einer Gewehr, tun wir? "

The voice of the officer was rather calm and casual now, as if this was an everyday occurrence. He positioned a table before the line of men, each one forced to step up individually and remove any pistols or knives they had on their uniform. Schneider's hand rested patiently on the side of his Luger, giving a nod of the head to every man as he took in their face. After placing their weaponry on the table, each man stepped back into their position in a line that stretched across the room of the cabin. With a smirk, and one hand on his gun, Schneider approached the line and cruelly stared into the eyes of the first man. He studied each face, taking in features of Aryan descent or those that came from vile Slavic or Jewish breeding. His eyes studied the rank boards on each man's shoulder, before passing on to the next man.

"Grüße, Sturmann…" The Obersturmfuhrer eventually muttered as he came upon an suspicious looking fellow who wore the rank of Sturmann. Perhaps, there was more than one Sturmann in the room? The Sturmann was significantly short and had a small build. His forehead was low and slanting, with a receding hairline. His hair was dark brown and rough naturally, it was in his blood. His eyes looked wary, yet deceitful, he was the spitting image of a Jew. Scornfully, Schneider observed the features of the man, severely doubting he could be of Aryan descent. "Herr, Obersturmfuhrer. Ich bin Sturmann Schmidt. Sicher kann ich nicht ein Jude sein. Es gibt nicht einen Tropfen des jüdischen Bluts meines Körpers! " The man pleaded. As he spoke, he shuffled unsteadily and began to move his hands while speaking. Such characteristics were often stereotypical of a Jew, there was no point of lying to the Obersturmfuhrer's face.

"Überreichen Sie Ihr Soldbuch, Sturmann. " Schneider grunted, stretching his left hand out in front of him with his palm up expecting the book. The Soldbuch was a form of personal identification for soldiers in the German army, required to be carried by a soldier at all times. Nervous and reluctant, the man silently refused. Without hesitation, Schneider reached into the Sturmann's collar pocket and retrieved the identification book. Flipping to its first page he was greeted with a vivid picture of the Jewish rat, along with the name and rank "Sturmann Volks". Before he could read any further, however, the desperate Jewish man stumbled before and knocked into Schneider's shoulder which threw both men off balance. Knocked off his footing, Schneider abandoned the Soldbuch and wrapped his right hand around his Luger.

As Volks took off in a desperate dash towards the weapons table, Schneider tore his Luger out from his open holster. He was grateful that he had devised the weapons table idea, but suddenly realized that a clever Jew would have simply had a hidden weapon prepared. There was no time for regrets, he brought his right hand forward and aimed its barrel in the general direction of the Jew. With great intensity, he emptied nearly the entire clip into the direction of Volks. A few of the bullets hit their mark, tearing through the uniform and flesh of the Jewish rat. The force of the bullets threw Volks forward, tumbling into the table. Both table and man violently clashed into the wall, ending the last-minute dash. There would be no more regrets this time, as Schneider approached the Jew who was crying out in agonizing pain. Some of his blood had already begun to seep out of the holes in his SS uniform and were dripping into the wooden floor of the cabin as he twitched and floundered like a fish, his cries intensifying. With two last bullets, that blasted a hole in the side of his skull and sliced through his brain, Volks life was ended.

Translations:

Die ganze Sie! Bilden Sie eine Linie!
- All of you! Form a line!

Zuerst entledigen Sie jedoch sich alle Ihre Waffen. Wir wünschen nicht einen Juden mit einer Gewehr, tun wir?
- First, however, dispose of all your weapons. We do not want a Jew with a gun, do we?

Grüße, Sturmann…
- Greetings, Sturmann...

Herr, Obersturmfuhrer. Ich bin Sturmann Schmidt. Sicher kann ich nicht ein Jude sein. Es gibt nicht einen Tropfen des jüdischen Bluts meines Körpers!
- Herr, Obersturmfuhrer. I am Sturmann Schmidt. Surely, I can not be a Jew. There is not a drop of Jewish blood in my body!

Überreichen Sie Ihr Soldbuch, Sturmann.
- Hand over your Soldbuch, Sturmann.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

After his quite ‘original’ speech and perhaps quite ‘original’ surprise he always had in store, the Sturmbannführer turned his back to the room once again and stood uprightly stern towards the countertop, slithering his hand across the polished wooden counter towards his glass of beverage, misting from the warmth. By now, Obersturmführer Schneider had given the nod of approval to his simple orders and acted accordingly, as expected. Without fault or flaw, the Obersturmführer governed the men into an orderly line, where they one by one disposed of their side-arms onto a drawn out table before themselves; ‘cleverly mastered’ the Sturmbannführer thought to himself, as he watched the weaponry strip commence, knowing that if the Obersturmführer had tried stripping the men’s side-arms himself, could’ve proved catastrophic. It didn’t take much for the Jew to react in close circumstances, particularly if the Obersturmführer’s hand became ensnared at close range and the rat decided to use his initiative to take a good officer out of the fight. On the plus side, it displayed that the Obersturmführer was using his brains, rather than braun and it was this main aspect Wolfram adhered to see. At least within this method, the Obersturmführer had to watch for uncanny movements or emotions, along with the observation of racial differences.

Inhaling quietly to himself, the deadly sigh went unnoticed, as the Sturmbannführer began to unbutton the rest of his black trench coat and in one simple swinging manner, remove the wet attire of clothing from off his body. Draping the wet black shimmering trench coat over one of the bar stool’s backs, he fiddled into his black tunic chest pocket momentarily and withdrew a silver case; there were small engravings on the exterior, but nothing of importance that signified a personal attachment or souvenir given to the Sturmbannführer. After plucking a cigarette from out of the case, he replaced the silver hardened case back into his chest pocket and twiddled the cigarette between his fingers, idly leaving the Obersturmführer to deal with the infiltrator.

The Jew had been monitored for several weeks by the Gestapo and it was through the man’s immediate sluggish actions, that lead the Nazis to at least one key Jewish hideout. Their first objective. The all clear for the man to be executed at the Sturmbannführer’s will, signified they had gained whatever intelligence they required from the man already; not necessarily meaning they had interrogated him, but his fowl movements around Berlin signified he had given away a few Jewish hideout checkpoints. There was not a lot you can learn from a messenger, other than his journey locations, otherwise a more gruelling task to interrogate the man would have been granted. To shoot the messenger sounded rather uncanny, but those were the orders given.

Lighting his cigarette, the Sturmbannführer looked over his shoulder casually as Obersturmführer Schneider approached the man suspected of being a Jew. Unknown to the Obersturmführer, the Sturmbannführer already knew who the Jew was and grinned to himself subtly as the Obersturmführer made inquiries on the man’s physic silently - suspicion was raised and Sturmbannführer Wolfram merely turned away to face the counter once again, taking note of the time via’ a glance at his wristwatch and soon sipped his drink afterwards to dull the dryness of the cabin’s interior heat. Looking over the briefing papers, the Sturmbannführer didn’t even move a muscle when a struggling scuffle emitted from behind himself, before the inevitable scampering of footsteps signifying the loose run of prey. The Jewish always had flat feet and so the man’s heavy footsteps were more irritating than alarming, knowing the rat was scampering from out of their grasp towards the weapon table. Truth be told, the Sturmbannführer had silently itched a hand towards the hilt of his P38, thinking the Obersturmführer had lost control and the rat was about to get the upper hand.

Counting backwards within the confines of his mind, he readied himself to shoot, trying to seem as casual and calm as possible, as if he wasn’t monitoring the situation through the corner of his eyes, when the Obersturmführer cut the rat down in his tracks. Sliding his hand back up to the table in front of himself, Sturmbannführer Wolfram reached for another sip of his drink and gradually turned to face the room of sporadic men, who’s faces bore a shock at what was happening. All of their eyes were fixed on Schneider, who mercilessly rammed one last bullet where it was needed.

“Gut getaner Obersturmführer, selbst wenn es ein wenig nah rasiert war” he said dryly, taking a puff on his cigarette soon after. “Wo war ich? - Oh Ja, ethnische Säuberung. Zwei Meilen von diesem Jagdhaus sind unser erstes Ziel im Waldland. Diese Ratte berichtete hier dazu, was scheint eine kleine Tasche des jüdischen Widerstands zu sein, wer keine registrierten Versuche zur Schuld den Fortschritt des Heimatlandes gemacht haben, aber sie stärker wachsen können, wenn wir nicht tun... Ersticken Sie es im Keim” he explained, watching the startled faces from what had just happened, attempt to try and pay attention without seeming shocked. “Ich würde nicht überrascht, wenn sie dieses Jagdhaus heute Abend nicht beobachtet haben, aber gerade wir wollen sagen, dass wir ihnen eine kleine Nachricht jetzt gesandt haben. Vielleicht werden sie heute Abend laufen? Vielleicht werden sie bleiben und kämpfen? Aber trotz allem, sind Ratten nicht loyal, und wenn es ein Ding ist, ist eine Ratte daran gut, es spart es ist eigene Haut”; the Sturmbannführer hoped the Jews in the forest would run after tonight’s events, he knew they were watching, hence the location of choice. He wasn’t hoping they would run, to save their own skins, but wading into an enemy’s territory, lesser manned than needed and knowing they had terrain advantage was just suicide.

Ich würde nicht überrascht, wenn sie dieses Jagdhaus heute Abend nicht beobachtet haben, aber gerade wir wollen sagen, dass wir ihnen eine kleine Nachricht jetzt gesandt haben. Vielleicht werden sie heute Abend laufen? Vielleicht werden sie bleiben und kämpfen? Aber trotz allem, sind Ratten nicht loyal, und wenn es ein Ding ist, ist eine Ratte daran gut, es spart es ist eigene Haut. If he could get a good portion, if not all of them on the run in fear, then they would stand a greater chance at taking down the weakened foes. Surrounding the woodlands was open ground for miles around, there was little else where they could go and what Sturmbannführer Wolfram truly loved - was a hunt. “Also, irgendwelche Fragen?” he lastly added, waiting for someone to say something.

Translations:[/b]

Gut getaner Obersturmführer, selbst wenn es ein wenig nah rasiert war.
- Well done Obersturmführer, even if it were a little close shaved.

Wo war ich? - Oh Ja, ethnische Säuberung. Zwei Meilen von diesem Jagdhaus sind unser erstes Ziel im Waldland. Diese Ratte berichtete hier dazu, was scheint eine kleine Tasche des jüdischen Widerstands zu sein, wer keine registrierten Versuche zur Schuld den Fortschritt des Heimatlandes gemacht haben, aber sie stärker wachsen können, wenn wir nicht tun... Ersticken Sie es im Keim.
- Where was I? -- Oh yes, ethnic cleansing. Two miles from this cabin is our first objective, in the woodlands. This rat here was reporting to what seems to be a small pocket of Jewish resistance, who haven't made any recorded attempts to fault the fatherland's progress, but they may grow stronger if we don't... Nip it in the bud.

Ich würde nicht überrascht, wenn sie dieses Jagdhaus heute Abend nicht beobachtet haben, aber gerade wir wollen sagen, dass wir ihnen eine kleine Nachricht jetzt gesandt haben. Vielleicht werden sie heute Abend laufen? Vielleicht werden sie bleiben und kämpfen? Aber trotz allem, sind Ratten nicht loyal, und wenn es ein Ding ist, ist eine Ratte daran gut, es spart es ist eigene Haut.
- I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't been watching this cabin tonight, but let's just say we've sent them a little message now. Perhaps they will run tonight? Maybe they will stay and fight? But whatever happens, rats aren't loyal and if it's one thing a rat is good at, that's saving it's own skin.

Also, irgendwelche Fragen?
- So, any questions?

[∬: Erik Schneider]

With a look of disdain on his face, the Obersturmfuhrer dug the toe of his jackboots into the lifeless corpse of the rat. With a gentle nudge of the toe, Schneider rolled the man over onto his back, his face now amused with his actions. Volks face was no longer recognizable, his head now just a shell of it use to be. A mixture of crimson blood and brain tissue poured through the enlarged exit hole, staining the decorative wooden floor of the cabin. For only the briefest seconds, Schneider admired his work, the Jew's chest now littered with holes torn clean open by bullets and his head a mess of a fractured skull and blood-stained skin. One could barely tell the pitiful mess was a Jew, his distinguishing features mostly distorted with the hail of gunfire. Taking the bloodied toe of his jackboot, he dragged the man's Soldbuch over nearer to the corpse that was sprawled out near the weapons table to identify the rat.

Schneider smirked at the mention of his name, his eyes shot up to gaze upon the Sturmbannfuhrer. He chuckled a little at his own mistake and for causing a bit of a scare and havoc amongst the men. Than again, the Obersturmfuhrer learned the definition of the expression "close-shaved" when he was dragged out of a North African town nearly unconscious and having fits of rage about his delusions of staying and slaughtering the weak American pigs. A startled Jew rushing for a gun would have to do something a little deadlier to trump that. Now, his gaze fell upon that of the spontaneous gathering of men who were nervously eying the ruthless Obersturmfuhrer. Perhaps, out of fear of some sadism shown in slaying of the Jew? Or, maybe, they were just afraid he wouldn't hesitate to oblige an order to put them down as well.

The fact of the matter was that Schneider would follow Wolfram's orders without hesitation. So, although he appeared cruel and sadistic, he knew he was following the orders of his respected leader for the betterment of all the men in the room. And he would do so and never think any more of it, even if he secretly enjoyed it in the back of his mind. No longer amused, Schneider replaced the empty space in his holster with his Luger and securely strapped the flap against the Luger holster, before stepping over Volks' corpse both in an effort to avoid the growing puddle of blood as well as get closer to Wolfram, who had begun to speak.

As the Sturmbannfuhrer informed the assembled SS soldiers that their first objective was only two miles out into the woodlands, Schneider cocked his head to the side and glanced at the draped curtains. Being so close to the enemy made Schneider feel like they were being watched or had even fallen into a trap. But he shrugged the feelings aside and shifted his head forward, listening to Wolfram once more. It caught his ear than, that there was a possibility the Jewish resistance were watching the cabin. His eyes slowly traveled back to the direction of the windows and the sense of being watched flooded back to him. Good. There was a smile in his eyes as he watched the curtains, almost hoping to see a shadow pass before the window. They would know who killed Volks then. And they would know who would gladly to the same to them, should the order arise.

Ethnic cleansing just had a certain ring to it that appealed to Schneider. And when Wolfram mentioned they would be caring out such an act in the woods tonight, Schneider felt almost like they were going hunting. Hunting for Jews. After their performance tonight, maybe the Jews would go off running. And, doing what they were so exceptionally skilled at, the Nazis would give chase and slash down any resistance that stood in their path. As Wolfram paused to wait for questions, or at least for any man to actually speak, the cabin fell into a dim, awkward silence. After a few moments passed and no one spoke up, Schneider decided to break the silence. "Ich glaube, dass es nur eine weitere Frage über anyones Verstand jetzt, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer gibt," the Obersturmfuhrer paused briefly, as he rested his right hand on his holster again his tone changing to appear slightly comical, "Wann sollen wir begonnen erhalten?"


Translations:

Ich glaube, dass es nur eine weitere Frage über anyones Verstand jetzt, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer gibt,
- I believe there is only one more question on anyone's mind now, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer,

Wann sollen wir begonnen erhalten?
- When shall we get started?

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

The men within the room phased a long eerie silence between themselves, where even the hardened of veterans couldn’t help but squint from the deafening ringing inside of their ears from the crazed pot-shots blurted out like ammunition didn’t matter. An anxious few eerily watched the Obersturmführer with a nervous eye however, hailing the cabin’s events as a subtle sign that an overly loyal dog was amongst the ranks and would gladly unsheathe his bayonet to tarnish the few who didn’t oblige to the night’s forthcoming events. It wasn’t as if the Sturmbannführer was asking for volunteers, the men had been singularly picked for the duties and were expected to uphold their orders given, without question. So no man in the room uttered a worded breath when questioned on the spot, for one however…

“Ich glaube, dass es nur eine weitere Frage über anyones Verstand jetzt, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer gibt”[/I] a familiar voice started from nearby, causing the Sturmbannführer to casually face the Obersturmführer; whilst his nimble pale fingers drew the dwindling burning cigarette to his crimson lips for a drag, listening to what the man had to say. “Wann sollen wir begonnen erhalten?” the Obersturmführer eagerly questioned, as if he were quite looking forward to carrying out the extermination of men, woman and most likely children, without a moment’s notice. It was such qualities that the Sturmbannführer admired, but also feared. His son was amongst the casualties of barbarians who didn’t care whether his little boy was a mangled pulp of burning flesh and so, he was just thankful that the Obersturmführer would return the favour later.

Taking another small draw on his cigarette, Sturmbannführer Wolfram nodded to the question and gave the briefest of smiles before speaking. “Seien Sie nicht zu eiliger Obersturmführer, wir haben einige Dinge, zuerst zu tun” he said in a teasing manner, lifting an arm to limply point towards the corpse. “Ich brauche zwei Männer, um diesen Stapel der Scheiße draußen zuerst zu werfen. Ich brauche auch drei von Ihnen, um in den Keller hinunterzugehen, früher heute ließ ich Arme und Rationen hier liefern. Sie sollten mehrere Sturmgewehr vierzig-fours für jeden Mann, Rationssätze finden und Handgranaten durchstechen” the Sturmbannführer ordered to the sporadic assortment of soldiers before himself, not the Obersturmführer. It took a moment for the men to jump into action, having looked at each other momentarily, wondering what non-commissioned officer was in charge to tell them what to do, but worked it out themselves and done the bidding.

Towards the back of the room was a door that lead to the basement and quite obviously, the Unterscharführer (Sergeant) ranked men and above took this easy duty upon themselves, whilst two lesser ranked soldiers were squeezed out to do the dirty work of carrying the corpse outside; a few wretched regurgitation noises sounded from the men’s throats, as they struggled to keep the head in one piece upon lifting the body. Taking no notice of what was going on around himself, Sturmbannführer Wolfram looked to the number of men standing stiffly within their places without orders and glanced to the Obersturmführer. “Ich brauche die Ruhe von Ihnen, um jedes Reihe-Abzeichen auf Ihren Tuniken, Kragen-Etiketten oder Feldabzeichen zu entfernen. Sorgen Sie sich nicht, ich werde einige Kleriker im Büro haben, um sie zurück darauf zu nähen, wenn wir nachhause kommen” he announced, whilst he too removed his officer’s peaked cap and tossed it over towards his briefcase on the side, looking to the Obersturmführer in hope he’d do the same with the stripping down of any rank stature.

“Diese Ratten werden bewaffnet, und das sogar vielleicht Tragen deutscher Tuniken, gestohlen Patrouillen auf den Straßen, pflegte, zu verwirren und deutsche Linien eindringen zu lassen. Gerade wie unser Freund, Volks” the Sturmbannführer spoke, whilst he simply undone and removed his field tunic, rather than tatter it with ripping of the tabs and many badges. Standing there, he simply wore a short sleeved black t-shirt, a thermal top commonly worn by the Nazis beneath their tunics for extra warmth. Turning to his briefcase whilst the men removed their insignias the hard way or easy way, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a bundle of red cloth. Turning to the middle of the room, he threw the bundle at one of the soldiers who’d finished removing the insignias; “Ein für jeden Mann, binden Sie diese roten Ufer des Stoffs um Ihren LINKEN Arm. Obersturmführer Schnieder und ich selbst wird diese Stoffe um unsere rechten Arme binden lassen, so wissen Sie, wer die Offiziere unter der Gruppe ist” he unveiled, tying the red strip of cloth around his right arm tightly.

When the men with errands given to them finished their duties, they too stripped down immediately and retrieved a red strand of cloth. Assault rifles were stacked up against the front of the bar and stick grenades piled on top, with canteens and food rations beside them. It seemed as if they were about to embark on an important mission, with the many resources provided to them. Taking a long look around the room, Sturmbannführer Wolfram eased his eyes over each of the men who were now patiently waiting for the word go. A few of their chests heaving from pre-anxiety of what’s to come and a few of them simply and uncannily lit a cigarette calmly. They all however, looked spectacular and not one man shadowed the next; whether it be rank, stature or pride.

Inhaling his breath to speak one last time, the Sturmbannführer nodded to himself, pleased with the outcome of his choice of men for the job. “Diese Ratten werden bewaffnet, und sie werden beliebigen dekorativen Mann zuerst schießen. Heute Abend werden wir als eine Kraft und als ein Schatten der Farbe gehen. Wir alle ertragen die gleiche Chance, geschossen zu werden…” he said firmly, hoping to give them the last morale boost they may need. “Ich brauche einen Mann auf dem Dach, um auf das Signal, ein rotes Aufflackern vom Nordwesten zu warten. Wir waren nicht die einzigen, die eine Nachricht an den Schaum heute Abend senden, ich hatte eine Gruppe von Männern umgeben die Stichpunkte der Flucht, die die Ratten tiefer ins Waldland nehmen würden, sie werden ins offene Land eine halbe Meile von hier gezwungen, und wenn sie den Köder nehmen, sind wir die Hunde, um sie zu kürzen” he finished with a wry grin.


Translations:[/b]

Seien Sie nicht zu eiliger Obersturmführer, wir haben einige Dinge, zuerst zu tun.
- Don't be too hasty Obersturmführer, we have a few things to do first.

Ich brauche zwei Männer, um diesen Stapel der Scheiße draußen zuerst zu werfen. Ich brauche auch drei von Ihnen, um in den Keller hinunterzugehen, früher heute ließ ich Arme und Rationen hier liefern. Sie sollten mehrere Sturmgewehr vierzig-fours für jeden Mann, Rationssätze finden und Handgranaten durchstechen.
- I need two men to throw that pile of crap outside first. I also need three of you to go down into the basement, earlier today I had arms and rations delivered here. You should find a number of Sturmgewehr forty-fours for each man, ration packs and stick grenades.

Ich brauche die Ruhe von Ihnen, um jedes Reihe-Abzeichen auf Ihren Tuniken, Kragen-Etiketten oder Feldabzeichen zu entfernen. Sorgen Sie sich nicht, ich werde einige Kleriker im Büro haben, um sie zurück darauf zu nähen, wenn wir nachhause kommen.
- I need the rest of you to remove any rank insignia on your tunics, collar tabs or field badges. Don't worry, I'll have a few clerics in the office to stitch them back on when we get home.

Diese Ratten werden bewaffnet, und das sogar vielleicht Tragen deutscher Tuniken, gestohlen Patrouillen auf den Straßen, pflegte, zu verwirren und deutsche Linien eindringen zu lassen. Gerade wie unser Freund, Volks.
- These rats will be armed and even possibly wearing German tunics, stolen from patrols on the roads, used to confuse and infiltrate German lines. Just like our friend, Volks.

Ein für jeden Mann, binden Sie diese roten Ufer des Stoffs um Ihren LINKEN Arm. Obersturmführer Schnieder und ich selbst wird diese Stoffe um unsere rechten Arme binden lassen, so wissen Sie, wer die Offiziere unter der Gruppe ist.
- One for every man, tie these red strands of cloth around your LEFT arm. Obersturmführer Schnieder and myself will have these cloths tied around our right arms, so you know who's the officers amongst the group.

Diese Ratten werden bewaffnet, und sie werden beliebigen dekorativen Mann zuerst schießen. Heute Abend werden wir als eine Kraft und als ein Schatten der Farbe gehen. Wir alle ertragen die gleiche Chance, geschossen zu werden…
- These rats are armed and they will shoot whatever decorative man first. Tonight, we will go as one force and as one shade of colour. We all stand the equal chance of being shot...

Ich brauche einen Mann auf dem Dach, um auf das Signal, ein rotes Aufflackern vom Nordwesten zu warten. Wir waren nicht die einzigen, die eine Nachricht an den Schaum heute Abend senden, ich hatte eine Gruppe von Männern umgeben die Stichpunkte der Flucht, die die Ratten tiefer ins Waldland nehmen würden, sie werden ins offene Land eine halbe Meile von hier gezwungen, und wenn sie den Köder nehmen, sind wir die Hunde, um sie zu kürzen.
- I need one man on the roof to wait for the signal, a red flare from the north-west. We weren't the only ones sending a message to the scum tonight, I had a group of men surround the key points of escape the rats would take deeper into the woodlands, they will be forced into open land half a mile from here and if they take the bait, we are the dogs to cut them down.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OOC: Erik, you can speed up the thread to an hour or two later if you wish? Just say the men waited around patiently, etc… Then the signal came and how everyone jumped to life, etc… If not, we can make a second thread after your post with the hunt? I’ll leave it up to you. Whether you want to make the final post of this thread or just speed it up to an hour or two later, where the signal’s been received by the cabin and they’re to embark on the hunt.
- Raf

[∬: Erik Schneider]

With a faint grin, the Sturmbannfuhrer dismissed Schneider's eager comment in a teasing manner, informing the Obersturmfuhrer that he should not be so hasty. With a slight smirk and a quick nod, Schneider gave a silent agreement to Wolfram's words. He cocked his head over his shoulder, following the direction of the man's finger, and glanced at his handiwork. The number of men in the room was cut in half as Wolfram began blurting out orders to the lower ranked men, leaving only half a dozen men left standing firmly in place. The two lowest ranked and unfortunate men were assigned the gruesome task of tossing the corpse outside, struggling to keep his disfigured head together as they did. Three other men, each of a NCO rank above Unterscarfuhrer, vanished into the basement of the cabin to gather up weapons, rations, and grenades.

The higher ranked men, whose uniforms were the most decorated with signs of their rank and importance, were left standing before the Sturmbannfuhrer without orders. Catching Wolfram's glance, Schneider watched as the man removed his peaked officer cap from his head and threw it beside him. As he did this, he ordered the Obersturmfuhrer and the others to remove any signs of rank, with the promise they would be sewed back on by Totenkopf clerks when they made it back home. If they made it back home. Following suit, Schneider removed the peaked cap from his head, crushing it down slightly as he did so. Within a few seconds, he had removed his overcoat as well, and tossed both items onto a nearby table.

Wolfram continued speaking, as well as unbuttoning his field tunic, as the rest of the men went about the process of removing rank insignias in a similar fashion. Some chose to simply remove their field tunic, while others violently tore off any rank tabs. Having stripped off his overcoat, Schneider chose the more difficult route and began discarding anything on his uniform that established him as a Obersturmfuhrer. From his shoulders, he tore off his his rank tabs and placed them within his cap. His collar tabs were next and they too found themselves crumpled and placed in Schneider's discarded officer's cap. The last step was to remove any badges from his field tunic and place them within his cap.

As he turned from the table that was holding his valued belongings, he found a rank-less soldier standing before him with a strand of red cloth clutched in his extended hand. The Sturmbanfuhrer, who had simply removed his field tunic, was already placing the cloth on his right arm and explaining their use to the men. Schneider tied the red cloth on his right arm, to distinguish himself from the NCOs that he was an officer. Now in a bland field tunic, that held nothing to display Schneider's rank or accomplishments, this cloth was all that set him apart from the other men. He rolled the sleeves on his tunic up to a little above his elbows, which served to make him more comfortable as well as creating a better fit for his cloth.

The lowly ranked men had returned from their duties and were filled in on the matter, quickly stripping off any sign of rank as well as tying the red cloth upon their left arms. The assault rifles that had been stockpiled in the cabin's basement were stacked up against the bar, with stick grenades, canteens, and food rations placed on the counter top. Wolfram calmly lit a cigarette before the men, as he gazed at each man, almost as if he were admiring his satisfying choice of men. All of the men now stood proudly before the Sturmbanfuhrer, with no indication of rank other then their red cloth. They were all equals on the battlefield today. Wolfram reiterated this fact in a brief speech to serve as a final morale boost for the anxious and somewhat frightened men. They were all about to embark on an important mission, judging by the amount of resources laid out on the bar.

After the speech, still no one volunteered to take the miserable roof duty and a few uncomfortable moments of silence. Breaking the silence, that could very well destroy the entire effect of Wolfram's speech, Schneider stepped forward from the crowd. "Ich warte das Signal auf dem Dach, also können diese feinen Soldaten etwas Frieden genießen, bevor wir die Ratten unten jagen müssen." The Obersturmfuhrer enjoyed solitude during the "calm before the storm". He found it calmed his nerves to be alone before battle. It did not bother Schneider that he would wait for the signal instead of another lowly ranked man, as some of the more immaculate officers would have done. Approaching the bar, Schneider quickly gathered up some rations, a canteen, and a sturmgewehr 44. He scurried across the room once more and pulled his overcoat, which held no indication of rank, back on over his tunic to keep warm in the dreadful storm. Beside his cap on the table sat his glass, which the Obersturmfuhrer quickly snatched up from the wooden table and poured down his throat.

Within moments, the Obersturmfuhrer vanished out the front door once more that night. Along the side of the cabin, Schneider discovered a ladder that led up to the roof. He slung his assault rifle over his right shoulder and cautiously pulled himself up the wet ladder one rung at a time. The heavy downpour of rain continued its onslaught on the forest, beginning to soak the Obersturmfuhrer. Schneider, finally dried and warm, was now soaked again. As he reached the end of the ladder, he slung his hand over the side of the roof and grasped a wet tile. He used the tile to pull himself up over the edge and positioned himself to crawl up the roof, carefully pulling himself to a safe vantage point on top of the roof.

Atop the roof, the Obersturmfuhrer waited patiently as the minutes began to fly by. Making sure to keep warm, Schneider focused his eyes to the north-west, waiting for the red flare. The signal. Off in the distance there were brilliant displays of lightning, followed by a delayed crack of thunder. It kept the Obersturmfuhrer entertained as he sat in silence, letting the rain drench him. Reaching into his overcoat, he casually pulled out another of his cigarettes. Lighting the end of the tobacco stick, he began shielding it with one hand as he smoked to calm his nerves. All the while, he kept his eyes focused on the sky. Glancing at his watch every now and then, it was nearly midnight and there was still no signal.

Suddenly, there it was. A bright red flare shot up into the night sky, which was littered with stars. The flare gave off brilliant light, illuminating the sky with it is red glow, before falling back to Earth. Schneider hurried down the side of the roof to the ladder, nearly falling off as he did so. He grabbed a hold of the top rung of the ladder and hurried down, jumping from the ladder when he was a about halfway down. He rushed to the front of the cabin and opened the door to find the men patiently waiting as he had left them a few hours ago. "Das rote Aufflackern ist oben, die Männer sind in der Position, zum der Juden abzufangen. "

Translations:

Ich warte das Signal auf dem Dach, also können diese feinen Soldaten etwas Frieden genießen, bevor wir die Ratten unten jagen müssen.
- "I shall wait for the signal on the roof, so these fine soldiers may enjoy some peace before we must hunt the rats down."

Das rote Aufflackern ist oben, die Männer sind in der Position, zum der Juden abzufangen.
- "The red flare is up, the men are in position to intercept the Jews."

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

The countertop to the bar was stacked high with small mountains of equipment rallied from the basement. The ration packs had the more experienced men dubiously wondering why they were being given food for a quick and simple mission? Perhaps they pondered on the bewildering thought of having to sleep it rough in the woodlands for the next night or two, the rations weren’t large by any means, but stated a point that food would be required on the hunt. Possibly? Beside the ration stacked mound on the bar’s counter, were model 24 Stielhandgranates, also commonly known as stick-grenades or mashers amongst the men; the most ironic part of quick terms for the grenade, was the fact that Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram had once witnessed a young soldier during the invasion of Poland, using a stick-grenade to mash his frozen ration into segments. It was these barbaric and thoughtless actions that could have wasted lives needlessly, but the Sturmbanfuhrer guessed the term ‘masher’ generally came from it’s shape, rather than his personal and worrying experience.

By now, everyone had stripped from their battle fatigues carrying any rank insignia or yanked their collar tabs and resembling pieces of rank cloth from off their tunics and sleeves. A small pile of clothing began to form on numerous tables slowly, but eventually, everyone had stripped any necessary pieces of insignia from off their bodies. For a brief moment, they all looked like a partisan group in scrap garments of uniforms stolen from Nazi soldiers and wore the red straps of cloth to distinguish themselves from the real enemy in the same uniforms; ironic how it was to be the opposite way around. Stories spread how the Jews don’t fight, but these Jews were known to have gunned down numerous patrols and raided small villages, taking from the rich and leaving the poor, as if their riddled belief in god and morals were doing them any favours. Despite the daunting fact that they too had already murdered for guns and uniforms.

A twisted belief, the Sturmbanfuhrer thought to himself. It took a while for a volunteer to emerge from the crowd and reluctant to Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram’s likings, it was Obersturmfuhrer Schneider. A partial gape in the Sturmbanfuhrer’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but reframed quickly for an apparent reason? Simply nodding to the Obersturmfuhrer who elected himself for the cold solemn duty on the roof, he prayed the fellow officer didn’t hurt himself or succumb to a illness officers rarely suffered from being cold and wet. “Sie werden von Ihrem Posten in den nächsten wenigen Stunden dann erleichtert” he said softly towards Schneider who’d already grabbed himself an assault rifle and thrown his overcoat on. He admired his willingness and loyalty, which was more to be said than most of the men in the room who feared the cold than the cold steel of Wolfram’s personal presence. Perhaps that was a compliment rather?

When Obersturmfuhrer Schneider had left, he set about making sure the men were fully prepared and the equipment was all in standing order. The signal could arrive during any moment, but the likely-hood was slim, as the Jewish camp held children, woman and a dozen or more families who would have to move quickly. The odds were against such a large group of slow Jews, who also carried the burden of elderly and sick as well. The pickets Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram had set up towards the north, north-west and south-west acted like a net, preventing the Jews from digging deeper into the woodlands or evading into nearby settlements where they could easily crawl under the floorboards of associate sympathisers. A few Maschinengewehr 42s were mounted amongst the pickets, with half a dozen men at each post. The sentries weren’t large, but the use of assault rifles, sub-machineguns and heavy machineguns from three different fields of fire within the woodlands would present a larger danger than there actually was. The manpower for this mission was great, but the equipment was well supplied and Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram now waited patiently, praying the Jews had taken the misconception of the bait and fled towards the north-east or east in general, so the Sturmbanfuhrer’s dozen handpicked men could quickly give chase and take them out.

Time passed slowly and during that time Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram had two of the senior governing Unterscharführers (Sergeants) to go over the men’s procedure of rank stripping one last time and to be sure they had their arm bands tightly banded and openly presented for others to see. A couple of the men had folded the red cloth to half it’s size for a tighter fitting knot, but were soon slapped across the back of the head to undo their armbands and try again. It seemed weird that they were going in with no proper German stature with uniforms and displayed ranks, but the whole reason laid down too the simple fact that the enemy - like all partisan groups - had a knack for shooting the top dogs first with their limited ammunition and even wore scraps of German uniforms to confuse the enemy. It was these simple hesitating moments that caused lives to flounder at gunpoint. At least with the simple idea of using the armbands, they now combated these two main factors when dealing with this partisan group. They had a way to identify one another and separate the enemy from friendly units, simply by having red armbands. They also evaded the downfall of the mission by removing all major pieces of field insignia, so the officers and senior squad men had an opportunity to keep the mission in place, without it failing from too many well placed decorative shots made by the enemy.

Everyone was just about ready and most of the men were quite laid back. One of the soldiers broke open a deck of cards and jovial laughing alluded from one of the tables, where the experienced men eased their nerves with friendly banter and a game. The lesser ranked, but proven battle worthy men (otherwise wouldn’t have been hand picked) were moving about quietly in deep thought or generally silent the whole while. Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram however had finished burning a handful of documents down in the basement secretly, having made radio contact via a tin box transmitter hidden behind one of the many stones in the wall towards the back. Returning to the surface, he observed the men with a stiff glare and lit a cigarette for himself, eyeing the quenching looks from a couple of the men’s faces, who were dying from nicotine withdrawals.

Suddenly the door swung open and Sturmbanfuhrer Wolfram, as if caught by surprise, went to grab for his sidearm. A few of the men in the room jumped from their seats also or abruptly turned to face the door in a fashion that displayed and underlying eagerness to fight. “Gut hörten Sie den Obersturmfuhrer! Ergreifen Sie Ihr Zahnrad, wir ziehen aus!” he yelled at the men, who drafted from their positions with a snap in their steps, swooping up their STG44s and any other equipment lying around. Whilst the Sturmbanfuhrer clipped together his body harness, with a webbing pack protruding from his side, holding three grenades and an ammunition pack the opposite side for his assault rifle, he faced the fellow officer drenched from the rain to speak. “Verschaffen Sie sich ein Getränk von Kognak schnell und Griff dass Provianttasche auf der Bar-Seite. Ich hatte einen des Mann-Satzs, den Sie liefern, Sie sollten drei Handgranaten, Essen und Munition finden. Ich werde Ihnen drei Minuten geben, um Ihren Bedarf zu erledigen und einige Gefühle in Ihren Fingern zu bekommen, dann müssen wir abreisen” he told the Obersturmfuhrer, giving him a chance to sort himself out.

Everyone was setting themselves up and grabbed whatever warm clothing they had, the Sturmbanfuhrer however, remained in his tight black t-shirt vest top and reframed from wearing his Gestapo looking duster coat. Reluctantly looking to the rain through the open door, he kicked himself inside for not bringing one of his field coats, but knew the night’s events were about to end as quick as they were to step out of the door. The Jews were moving in a large group together and no doubt slower than three Panzer III tanks trying to drive up a steep mountain. Glancing back towards his fellow XO, he checked his watch to be sure the small break was up and made the final order. “Seien Sie sicher, Ihr Feuer, bis bestellt, sonst zu halten, meiner Leitung folgen und taktischen Abstand von sieben Schritten behalten. Diese Juden könnten Bürger sein, aber das ist ihr Terrain, und sie wissen diesen Wald wie der Rücken ihrer Hand. Ich habe arabisches Junge-Ziehen eines headshot von fünfhundert Yards gesehen, unterschätzen Sie ihren Willen nicht, um zu kämpfen. Zu leben. Jetzt gehen wir!” and with that, he moved out of the cabin and into the downpour, shuddering at the sheer coldness of the droplets and brisk breeze.


Translation:[/b]

Sie werden von Ihrem Posten in den nächsten wenigen Stunden dann erleichtert.
- You will be relieved from your post in the next few hours then.

Gut hörten Sie den Obersturmfuhrer! Ergreifen Sie Ihr Zahnrad, wir ziehen aus!
- Well you heard the Obersturmfuhrer! Grab your gear, we're moving out!

Verschaffen Sie sich ein Getränk von Kognak schnell und Griff dass Provianttasche auf der Bar-Seite. Ich hatte einen des Mann-Satzs, den Sie liefern, Sie sollten drei Handgranaten, Essen und Munition finden. Ich werde Ihnen drei Minuten geben, um Ihren Bedarf zu erledigen und einige Gefühle in Ihren Fingern zu bekommen, dann müssen wir abreisen.
- Get yourself a drink of cognac quickly and grab that haversack on the bar side. I had one of the men pack you supplies, you should find three grenades, food and ammunition. I'll give you three minutes to sort your supplies out and get some feelings in your fingers, then we must leave.

Seien Sie sicher, Ihr Feuer, bis bestellt, sonst zu halten, meiner Leitung folgen und taktischen Abstand von sieben Schritten behalten. Diese Juden könnten Bürger sein, aber das ist ihr Terrain, und sie wissen diesen Wald wie der Rücken ihrer Hand. Ich habe arabisches Junge-Ziehen eines headshot von fünfhundert Yards gesehen, unterschätzen Sie ihren Willen nicht, um zu kämpfen. Zu leben. Jetzt gehen wir!
- Be sure to hold your fire until ordered otherwise, follow my lead and keep tactical spacing of seven paces. These Jews might be civilians, but this is their terrain and they know these woods like the back of their hand. I've seen Arabic boys pull of a headshot from five hundred yards, don't under-estimate their will to fight. To live. Now let's go!

[∬: Erik Schneider]

A bit reckless, the Obersturmfuhrer had mistakenly managed to disrupt the peace as the now ragtag looking soldiers burst from their chairs to confront the abrupt entrance. Schneider paused in the doorway, letting the situation sink in for the hostile NCOs. The silence was broken when a man in the back of the room, the Sturmbannfuhrer, barked at the men to grab their gear and get ready to go. The soldiers, who had prepared for this moment for the past few hours, immediately jumped to action and charged the bar in a mob. They snatched up STG44s and whatever equipment left lying near the bar, quickly readying themselves for battle. Taken in by the warmth and comfort within the cabin, Schneider slowly approached Wolfram, who was fastening his equipment onto his chest.

"Ja, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. Drei Minuten ist alle, die ich benötige," he replied to Wolfram's orders, grateful that he would be given time to sort himself out. Physically, that was. If one wished to talk about their mentality before the battle, Schneider believed himself to be the best prepared, after spending his hour on the roof in solitude. By the time the Obersturmfuhrer, dressed in his wet overcoat, neared the bar, the majority of the men had gathered what equipment they could off the bar. His hand searched through the collection of alcoholic beverages swiftly, grasping the bottle of cognac and pouring it out into a glass. He finished the cognac, which was a French brandy, in one gulp and set the empty glass back down amongst the bottles. Grasping the haversack, he glanced at his watch to measure how much time he had left.

Hurrying across the cabin, he set down near the fireplace, where a fire was still crackling. Throwing off his drenched overcoat, he laid it out near the fireplace and got down onto his knees. Opening the haversack, he rummaged through it to find it was stuffed with grenades, food, and ammunition. He pulled out a neatly folded Y-strap, a form of German field gear for carrying equipment, and hurriedly fastened it around his chest. Across the belt, he carried a few pouches of STG44 ammo, on which the metal d-ring of the Y-strap attached to. Holding the flap down on the haversack, Schneider used the button strap to seal it. Pulling it over his head, he placed it around his right shoulder and tightened it so it rested against his left hip.

A realization hit him and he quickly yanked the red cloth off his right arm and set it down on the floorboards of the cabin. Grabbing a hold of his soaked overcoat, he dangled it in front of the fire's flames in hopes of drying it a little more. Than, he pulled the overcoat back over his field tunic, choosing to rather wear a wet overcoat than nothing at all. Now experienced with tying the cloth, Schneider quickly wrapped the cloth over the wool coat on his right arm. Nearly ready, he gently raised his hands before the fire and let the heat given off by the flames warms his hands until he was able to feel his fingers once more. The warmth rushing back into his hands felt good, the Obersturmfuhrer continued to turn his hands before the flames for that extra heat. Squatting before a fire in a wet overcoat, warming his hands before the flames, reminded the Obersturmfuhrer greatly of his days in Russia.

All the while, Schneider had still managed to cling onto the cigarette he had lit on the roof hours ago. The flame had long since faded, but he still held the bent cigarette between his lips. Now, it was slightly soaked from the downpour of rain. He contemplated relighting it, but ultimately deemed the cigarette useless and spat it into his hand. He folded it in half, clutching in his hand for a few seconds, before he tossed it into the flames of the fireplace. He watched it as the flames devoured the cigarette. Casually, he rolled his left sleeve up over his watch. The three minute break had ended and he grabbed a hold of his STG44, before standing up. He slung the assault rifle over his right shoulder and turned to face the entrance, where he found the Sturmbannfuhrer patiently waiting for him.

Hold your fire, unless ordered otherwise. Got it. Follow the Sturmbannfuhrer's lead. Got it. Keep a tactical spacing of seven paces. Got it. Be careful, the Jews know the terrain and are fighting for their lives. Got it. Schneider made a mental checklist, remembering each order. Not like the orders were hard to remember, the Obersturmfuhrer was simply focusing in on Wolfram's words. Stepping out of the cabin after the Sturmbannfuhrer, he let the harsh downpour of rain and cold envelop him again. He admired Wolfram for being so brave, even though some would consider such bravery foolish, to venture out in the conditions in only a black thermal top. From a distance of seven paces, Schneider slowly began to follow the leader of the rough looking soldiers into the forest.

Translations:

Ja, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. Drei Minuten ist alle, die ich benötige.
- Ja, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. Three minutes is all I need.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

Ra-tat-tat-tat-tat -- Tat-tat-tat -- Tat-tat-tat; the sounds of heavy machinegun fire erupted from deep in the woodlands, the echoing of the thunderous Maschinengewehr 42s popping in short controlled bursts, with the very faint yelling of voices behind each pause of explosive fire. It seemed as if the Jewish were putting up a fight at one of the pickets assigned to push them back, perhaps the Sturmbannfuhrer’s plan was failing and the Jews were stubbornly putting up a fight to get through? Perhaps they had larger numbers than the Gestapo intelligence invoked? Perhaps they had better weaponry too!? A dozen different thoughts raced through the Sturmbannfuhrer’s mind, as he cradled his Sturmgewehr 44 flat against his abdomen, leaning low as if he was cautious of being seen or shot; stopping behind a tree after a dozen paces to assess the littered tree-line horizon for movements or muzzle flashes.

The downpour of the rain wasn’t so bad in the thicket of woodlands they were creeping through, the thick canopy-like treetops above their heads was pattering softly to the bombardment of raindrops falling, but acted like a natural ceiling, sheltering them from the mass of mother nature’s heavy rain. There were open spots within the woodlands that succumb to the heavy downpour of rain, but overall, it wasn’t so bad and the Sturmbannfuhrer didn’t feel half as cold as he thought he would either.

Moving out from behind one of the trees, Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram took a quick three paces and dropped to his stomach behind a large fallen log, with heavy sprouts of nature growing out of it’s crevices from having been on the ground for a long period of time. It was perfect to set a piece of heavy gunner up against, as the ‘gunner’s mate’ would have plenty of cover to provide supporting fire and enough protection when cooling or reloading the weapon. The thoughts soon turned too the pickets he had set up, wondering how they were fairing, as the distant echo of thunderous gunfire raged on in bursts, with short interval pauses in between. The fire-fight didn’t sound damning and seemed to be lasting longer than anticipated, if the Jewish were making a proper assault. Perhaps the Jews were buying time for their party to retreat? Thinking they were holding off the enemy? The thought hadn’t crossed Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram’s mind until now, which suddenly changed his plan of action.

Observing the area before himself from behind the log, laying prone and silently, he assessed the ground before himself and twisted his body sideways to look for a ‘tail man’ from the group following his lead. Noticing a Unterscharführer huddled behind a tree, no more than twelve paces away, he flagged the NCO over with a motion of his hand and shuffled along the damp dirt floor for him to drop down beside himself. The Unterscharführer beckoned the call immediately and darted over in a low stance, falling down with a louder thump than required. “Ich will, dass Sie Punkt nehmen und fortsetzen, Nordosten anzuführen, gehen Sie!” he ordered the soldier, who faintly responded with a ‘Ja’, before he climbed up off of his knees and moved forwards as point man. Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram motioned for the group to keep moving, having resigned himself as point man, but that was mainly due to the fact he needed to speak with Obersturmführer Schneider.

Laying prone for a further minute, he allowed another two soldiers to pass himself, before climbing up off the damp dirt and moving over towards the Obersturmführer swiftly. “Die Juden kämpfen mit unserer Pfosten-Verteidigung, sie als ob fernzuhalten, denkend, dass sie die zunehmende Partei von Nazis sind, um sie auszuspülen. Ich habe vollen Glauben diese Ratten haben den Köder genommen und führen Osten an, wir sollten sie mit ihren Hosen unten fangen…” the Sturmbannfuhrer said informing Obersturmführer Schneider, his eyes a piercing red and blue through the blanket of darkness, with his blonde hair sticking to his face and neck from the soaked rain. Everything seemed to be going to plan, until a rifle shot loudly bellowed out in front of the party moving forwards; a lightening flash sparking from the muzzle-flash of the rifle being fired in front of them, followed by the inevitable and distinct sound of impact, as the bullet hit something hard and close.

Grabbing the Obersturmführer by the arm, Rafael pulled the two of them down behind the nearest tree to his left and winced as he felt the back of his head thump against the tree in the process of hastily getting into cover, making haste in wasting no time. A few of the soldiers began yelling to one another like owls communicating between trees in the dead of night; “Mann unten!”[/b] -- “Feind vorn!” two voices conveyed back towards the party of men, who by now, had all dropped down behind a surface of some kind where they could. Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram peered out from behind the tree and looked straight down towards the wounded Unterscharführer rolling about on his back, cradling his torso where he’d been shot, attempting to crawl or drag himself back towards the group slowly with his buttocks and elbows, as if he were wriggling backwards, doing so in sheer pain from his muffled grunts.

As Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram peered out, he watched as two, maybe three, young looking men dart between the trees in the distance, yelling to one another in what seemed French? He couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but knew the accent - he was sure of it - turning to face the Obersturmführer next to him, he licked his wet lips and spoke quickly. “Sieht wie eine sich umsehende Partei---aus” he started, but didn’t finish as two rifle shots simultaneously rang out nearby. Two of the Germans were attempting to hit the bodies moving between the trees in the distance, although they were breaking orders to shoot, he couldn’t really care, considering they’d just been compromised from out of the blue. Continuing what he was saying, he grabbed the Obersturmführer by the arm, as if to draw his attention again. “Nehmen Sie vier Männer und flankieren Sie Recht, ich werde sechs nach links nehmen und ihre Aufmerksamkeit mit den anderen bereits im Platz lenken. Versuchen Sie und bewahren Sie ein, ich will mit einem dieser Bastarde sprechen. Diese sind nicht Juden, ich bin davon sicher” he said in a disgruntled stain to his voice, before patting the fellow officer on the chest to bid him luck, before darting out from behind the tree and towards a nearby soldier’s position on the left flank.

Quickly motioning for him to follow, after pausing for cover, noticing the enemy had started firing back again - BANG, BANG, BANG - their rifles popping off like flashes from the blue-yonder, he snapped his hand towards whatever men he could see in his path of sight, motioning for them to follow him. Out of the six guys he said he’d take, he could only find five to flank left, leaving an additional three or four in their places to keep shooting at the enemy from their direct assault point of view. As he continued to flank left, he eventually came to a halt the men sporadically scattered amongst the foliage and trees to line up their sights, knowing they’d hold their fire as to not give away their position just yet. “Warten... Warten…” he murmured to the group, as if warning them to not fire anyway, a quick glance to his wrist-watch suggesting he was giving Schneider enough time to move and not get caught in the cross fire if he accidentally got to close on the opposite flank.

Without yelling the order to fire, Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram dropped to one knee and raised his STG44 against the groove of his shoulder and bicep, lining up an estimated shot against the cover the partisans were taking up ahead. Pulling the trigger, he opened fire in quick six shot intervals, shooting the trees as if they were the bodies of the enemy, knowing they were behind or beneath one of them - as soon as he opened fire, the five men scattered around himself also opened fire with their STG44s and suddenly it seemed like a whole rain of fire emerged from out of no where towards the small scouting party like a ton of crap. Their firing halted, until a random rifle shot whizzed by Wolfram’s position, clarifying he unduly had their full attention, leaving Obersturmführer Schneider to do the rest.

OOC: Not my best post, sorry. Small god-moding in the middle somewhere, I only dragged you into cover, but otherwise, nothing else. I'm quite tired doing this post, but wanted to get it up, otherwise I'd get the post up even later the time I get home tomorrow.


Translations:[/b]

Ich will, dass Sie Punkt nehmen und fortsetzen, Nordosten anzuführen, gehen Sie!
- I want you to take point and keep heading north-east, go!

Die Juden kämpfen mit unserer Pfosten-Verteidigung, sie als ob fernzuhalten, denkend, dass sie die zunehmende Partei von Nazis sind, um sie auszuspülen. Ich habe vollen Glauben diese Ratten haben den Köder genommen und führen Osten an, wir sollten sie mit ihren Hosen unten fangen…
- The Jews are fighting our picket defences as if to hold them off, thinking they're the advancing party of Nazis to flush them out. I have full faith these rats have taken the bait and are heading east, we should catch them with their trousers down...

Mann unten!
- Man down!

Feind vorn!
- Enemy ahead!

Sieht wie eine sich umsehende Partei---aus
- Looks like a scouting party ---

Nehmen Sie vier Männer und flankieren Sie Recht, ich werde sechs nach links nehmen und ihre Aufmerksamkeit mit den anderen bereits im Platz lenken. Versuchen Sie und bewahren Sie ein, ich will mit einem dieser Bastarde sprechen. Diese sind nicht Juden, ich bin davon sicher.
- Take four men and flank right, I'll take six to the left and draw their attention with the others already in place. Try and keep one alive, I want to talk to one of these bastards. These ain't Jews, I'm sure of it.

Warten... Warten…
- Wait… Wait…

[∬: Erik Schneider]

A patter of raindrops managed to evade the canopy-like defenses of the forest, gently beating against the Obersturmfuhrer's face as he glanced upwards. Through open spaces between the tree tops, Schneider could see the beauty of the starry night to some degree. The faint, grim gray clouds of a nighttime storm blotted out some of the celestial beauty past Earth's atmosphere. But still, the brilliant specks of light were littered across the black sky, as if God himself had taken a brush against a canvas. Such natural beauty could only be observed in the same manner by a man who had gone through war and even then, Schneider needed to be brief about it.

Focusing back on his walking, Schneider slowly developed a rhythm as he paced himself from the man before him. Towards the front of the scattered group of men, Wolfram served as the point man. Deeply disturbed by this, Schneider silently questioned himself why the Sturmbannfuhrer had chosen to be the point man. In a group of men where one could not distinguish rank, the simplest target for the enemy would be the man in front. As of the moment, that man was no other than Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram. If they lost Wolfram to a stray bullet, it was questionable whether the rest of the men would see their families again. Out in a foreign terrain without their leader and the most informed of the situation, the guerrilla tactics of the Jews would be able to inflict a lot of damage in a short time span. Schneider did not doubt himself, but he did not want to consider having to fill Wolfram's shoes in such a situation.

Schneider kept low to the ground, slowly advancing through the forest with his STG44 held up against his chest pointed in the direction he walked. In the distance, the Jews must have fled right into the ambush Wolfram had his men establish earlier in the night. The distinct sound of the short bursts of gunfire, the MG42s, echoed throughout the deathly silent woods. Hitlersäge, "Hitler's Saw", as the German soldiers referred to it. The nickname was given due to the sound the fast firing machine gun made. From what the Obersturmfuhrer could tell from the firing, it sounded like the Jews were managing to put up a fight. After a few paces, Schneider stopped behind a tree and motioned for the nearest soldier with his hand.

The NCO appeared from out of the darkness, revealing him to be one of the Unterscharfuhrers of the group. Or, was he? Schneider wasn't able to discern the man's rank, besides the red cloth tied around his left arm. He wore the tattered remnants of his field tunic and crouched low beside the Obersturmfuhrer, glancing at him questioningly. Ahead of the group, Wolfram had stopped for some reason. Schneider began to remove his overcoat, murmuring to the NCO, "Was ist Ihr Name, Soldat?" The NCO was a young man, or at least still displayed youthful features drained from the act of war. His green eyes looked tired and his face was weary from fighting. "Unterscharfuhrer Hannibal Schultz, Herr Obersturmfuhrer."

By now, the veteran officer had removed his drenched overcoat and was beginning to fold it into a compact square. "Schultz, gut, Sie zu sehen. Ich habe über Sie gehört. Die Männer sagen, dass Sie bemerkenswerte Fähigkeit mit dem MP40 von Ihren haben. Die Männer sagen auch, dass Sie ihre unzähligen Zeiten der Esel in Russland sparten. Drehen Sie herum und öffnen Sie Ihren Rucksack, bitte," Schneider muttered, holding the folded overcoat on one knee. The NCO grinned and nodded, pleased to hear Schneider's recognition, before turning around and opening his rucksack. Schneider forced the folded coat within the light tan back pack, fitting it in with some of the man's rations. The haversack Schneider had received wouldn't be able to maintain the Obersturmfuhrer's overcoat, which he had decided to abandon. The thick top of the forest sheltered the men from most of the cold and rain, the wet overcoat was more of a problem than the actual rain now.

Before placing the overcoat into the rucksack, Schneider removed the red cloth. Quickly, he retied it around his right arm once more, kicking himself for having trouble making up his mind. A good leader was decisive. There was a change at the front of the pack of men, Wolfram was pulling back into the group and a new point man replaced him. Breathing a sigh of relief, Schneider glanced at Schultz and reminded him, "Sieben Schritte. Sehen Sie Sie, wenn wir ein dieses verlassen, Schultz." Schneider, with his tunic sleeves rolled up to his elbows, departed from his cover behind the tree and began to approach Wolfram. By now, he had noticed the Sturmbannfuhrer was moving towards him as well. Wolfram went over his new plan and Schneider smirked at the idea of the Jewish with their trousers down as Wolfram had expertly put it. Suddenly, there was a flash of a muzzle and the roar of a bullet before the advancing group of men as if it were lightening followed by thunder. There was the sound of impact too, but that was drained out as he was grabbed by the arm and thrown into cover.

The Obersturmfuhrer couldn't help but dreadfully think back to his prior thoughts, relieved that it was Wolfram who was alive and pushing him into cover. As if from afar, Schneider watched the Sturmbannfuhrer quickly assess the situation while the men scattered into cover. Wolfram licked his lips and spoke, but his voice was drowned out by the nearby German shots. There was another tug on his arm, as Wolfram attempted to grab Schneider's attention again. His orders were simple: take four men and flank the right, while Wolfram took six and caught their attention from the left flank. Schneider nodded as Wolfram patted him on the chest for good luck, before darting out from behind the tree.

Quickly, he motioned for the four nearest men to gather up around him. Out of the four men, only one was a familiar face to Schneider. Schultz had followed closely behind the Obersturmfuhrer and gladly came running upon his signal. The other three men were also NCOs and obediently crouched down beside Schneider, who now whispered, "Wir grenzen auf dem Recht an. Unterhalt unten und auf stille Art, werden nicht gesehen." Three more shots rang out in the distance, landing against trees nearby. Signaling for the men to move, they spread out amongst the trees and swiftly moved up the right flank. Darting between trees, they kept a decent distance between them and the scouting party in order to avoid being spotted.

The group of five came upon a decent position on the scouting party's right flank, with a few scattered fallen trees to serve as cover. Schneider motioned for the men to spread out amongst the cover, finding shelter behind a fallen tree with Schultz. "Schultz geben mir eine Ihrer Granaten schnell," Schneider whispered, watching as the Unterscharfuhrer retrieved a potato masher from his pack and handed it off to the Obersturmfuhrer. Schneider gently undid the cap, waiting for Wolfram to draw the attention of the men as promised. When the sound of STG44s rang out and, more importantly, the sound of the rifles returned fire, Schneider yanked the pull cord of the Model 24 Stielhandgranate. After a few seconds, he tossed the stick grenade into the fray from a safe distance. It landed a little way back from the three men, its explosion wounded one man and stunned the other two.

"Unterhalt einer lebendig! Zeigen Sie keine Gnade für die anderen!" the Obersturmfuhrer's voice roared amongst the chaos of nearby gunfire. He spattered bursts of STG44 fire at the men, before advancing to a better position under the covering fire. Schultz and another man followed suit and soon there were three German soldiers in deadly range of the Jewish scouting party. Signaling across to the other two men with his hand, the Obersturmfuhrer counted down from three before opening fire a second time. This time, he spattered bursts of his assault rifle into the chest of two of the men, aiming for the legs of the third. Schultz and his comrade did similar, cutting down the scouting party in a matter of seconds after the successful flanking maneuver.

Translations:

Was ist Ihr Name, Soldat?
- What is your name, soldier?

Unterscharfuhrer Hannibal Schultz, Herr Obersturmfuhrer.
- Unterscharfuhrer Hannibal Schultz, Herr Obersturmfuhrer.

Schultz, gut, Sie zu sehen. Ich habe über Sie gehört. Die Männer sagen, dass Sie bemerkenswerte Fähigkeit mit dem MP40 von Ihren haben. Die Männer sagen auch, dass Sie ihre unzähligen Zeiten der Esel in Russland sparten. Drehen Sie herum und öffnen Sie Ihren Rucksack, bitte.
- Schultz, good to see you. I have heard about you. The men say you have remarkable skill with that MP40 of yours. The men also say you saved their asses countless times in Russia. Turn around and open your rucksack, please.

Sieben Schritte. Sehen Sie Sie, wenn wir ein dieses verlassen, Schultz.
- Seven paces. See you when we get out of this, Schultz.

Wir grenzen auf dem Recht an. Unterhalt unten und auf stille Art, werden nicht gesehen.
- "We flank on the right. Keep down and quiet, do not be seen."

Schultz geben mir eine Ihrer Granaten schnell.
- "Schultz, quickly, give me one of your grenades."

Unterhalt einer lebendig! Zeigen Sie keine Gnade für die anderen!
- "Keep one alive! Show no mercy for the others!

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

Leaning back behind cover, Sturmbannführer Wolfram unravelled the strap to his Sturmgewehr 44 from about his shoulders and lifted the weaponry upwards against his chest for an apparent reason? Straining to see through the dark and drizzle of rain beating against his face, he attempted to yank the slippery bolt-catch backwards to unload the chamber, where on closer inspection, an empty shell had become lodged between the chamber’s expenditure opening. Grunting beneath his breath, he continued yanking the bolt-catch back until the empty cartridge popped from the chamber, followed by an unexpended round. The Sturmgewehr 44’s barrel must have been wet and dirty, which immediately worried the Sturmbannführer, wondering whether the equipment they had been given for the task at hand was indeed top notch quality? He hadn’t the time to have the equipment inspected and neither was the equipment belonging to any soldier on the field, who’d grease and oil his weapon like a third hand, so perhaps the armoury pieces they wielded were indeed a bit dirty? Either that or Sturmbannführer Wolfram picked up the dodgy weapon from the stack.

After riddling the jammed cartridge from the chamber, the Sturmbannführer decided to be safe than sorry and took extra precautions by unlatching the magazine still half loaded and discarded it off into the foliage, where the spring in the magazine may not have been fitted properly. Flapping open his ammunition pouch attached to his left via’ the body harness, he yanked out another magazine and loaded the assault rifle, giving the magazine a firm slap into place afterwards. Yanking the bolt-catch back, he loaded the chamber a second slower than usual to be sure the barrel was being fed the cartridge of the bullet, before swinging the wet fabric of the strap to the gunnery back over his shoulder and leaning out from behind cover to pop a couple of testing rounds towards the enemy position; where the five soldiers sporadically firing from around himself kept popping off small controlled bursts.

After a minute’s worth of firing from the Sturmbannführer’s squad drawing the attention of the presumed Jewish scouting party, he raised his hand as high as he could and yelled a cease fire, noticing Obersturmführer Schneider’s group moving into position directly across from themselves. It took a couple of the soldiers a moment to realise the cease fire had been ordered, as a few solemn shots rang out from the squad, before being patted on the back or leg from lower covering ‘squaddies’ to heed the command. “Einer von Ihnen geht herum zurück und überprüft auf dem verwundeten Mann, erzählt den anderen, die in der Mitte verlassen wurden, Feuer sofort aufzuhören, nur für den Fall sehen sie die Partei von Obersturmführer Schneider nicht Recht flankieren” he yelled towards two in particular in the squad, one of them nodding eagerly to accept the duty, before he scampered off into the brush back towards their initial location, his tattered grey field tunic flapping about as he ran.

Observing the enemy position from his cover, he watched as the Obersturmführer launch a grenade and obliterate the enemy’s already dazed position further, before moving in like a blitzkrieg of light armoured vehicles and cut the enemy down. The Sturmbannführer just hoped that at least one of them were left alive, conscious to speak. He was adamantly sure he heard a foreign tongue from amidst the initial assault when the scouting party engaged; they quite obviously didn’t realise there were more soldiers than just a few, otherwise the buffoons would have snuck away immediately.

Assuming the Obersturmführer had finished his assault, as the gunfire went deaf, Sturmbannführer Wolfram got up from his position and snapped his fingers at the intently watching soldiers, looking towards the partisan’s position. “Zwei von Ihnen Aufenthalt hier, bedecken Sie den Osten, es kann mehr geben. Die Ruhe von Ihnen folgt mir” he ordered quickly, turning to hastily move towards the quiet position, where the Obersturmführer and a few soldiers he’d plucked for the job were cautiously standing. Eyeing the Obersturmführer with a faint stare, he prayed the man left him with a survivor, as he trekked up a small embankment to a ditch they were once cowering in and stood atop of the dirt mound looking down towards the littered corpses and writhing body, murmuring something beneath his breath incoherently, his face a pale blue as he struggled shakily against the dirt, reaching for a broomhandle-Mauser holstered under the man’s grey tattered coat, full of rips and moth-holes.

Swiftly upholstering his own sidearm, his P38, the Sturmbannführer pointed and shot the man in his bicep, watching as the man already quivering in pain yelped out in sheer agony, his arm flailing from his holster from the impact and reaction. Treading down the opposite side of the dirt embankment, Sturmbannführer Wolfram cocked his sidearm and looked to Obersturmführer Schneider quickly. “Überprüfen Sie die anderen Körper für die Intelligenz und ergreifen Sie, dass sonst, der nützlich sein konnte. Stellen Sie zwei zwischen den Augen für das gute Maß ebenso” he coldly ordered, a side to Wolfram showing through that showed a merciless hunter, as he stepped closer to the quivering body beneath his feet and glared down with pinnacle pinprick eyes, his jackboot extending out to firmly press into the man’s wounded bicep, where he’d just shot; his leather booted toes sinking into the wound with a faint squelch, causing the man to yell in sheer agony as he grabbed for the Sturmbannführer’s foot weakly, bawling into tears.

“Wer Sie sind!?” he blurted out, questioning the man, his foot relieving from the wound slowly, giving the man enough breath to speak in correspondence to his question. “Ihre Scheißmutter!”[/I] the breathless man spat out angrily, causing Wolfram to dig his boot back into the wound immediately, his face taunt with an expression disliking the man’s response. “Wer Sie Sing!?!” Sturmbannführer Wolfram repeated angrily, the man yelling out in sheer agony as he wept against the pain, struggling against Wolfram’s jackboot for mercy. Eventually he lifted his jackboot from the wound again and the man began to laugh faintly, just looking towards the Germans one by one with a distant glazed over look to his eyes. “... Die Deutschen... Kann nicht Uniformen jetzt gewähren?”[/I] he stuttered out, coughing afterwards as he laid there, just laughing again to himself weakly.

Sturmbannführer Wolfram sighed heavily to himself and within a split second, a shot spurted out from the Sturmbannführer’s sidearm, as he punctured a bullet straight into the man’s face. A second passed and he pulled the trigger again. Sliding his foot away from the man’s arm, he wiped the end of his blooded foot against the corpse’s grey tattered coat beneath himself and looked towards the Obersturmführer slowly, whilst holstering his sidearm casually. “Finden Sie irgendwelche Dokumentation auf den anderen?” he quizzed the fellow officer, watching as one of the soldiers stepped in to check the man he’d just shot twice for any intelligence, but soon shook his head and moved away, noticeably holding the Mauser C96 between his hands, ruffling his backpack open to slide in as he walked away.

OOC: Feel free to trump up any intelligence or even take lead of the storyline. I’m just improvising as we go along, feel free to add too it! Don’t have to keep following my lead. Your plot too. =]


Translations:[/b]

Einer von Ihnen geht herum zurück und überprüft auf dem verwundeten Mann, erzählt den anderen, die in der Mitte verlassen wurden, Feuer sofort aufzuhören, nur für den Fall sehen sie die Partei von Obersturmführer Schneider nicht Recht flankieren.
- One of you go back round and check on the wounded man, tell the others who were left in the middle to cease fire immediately, just in case they don't see Obersturmführer Schneider's party flanking right.

Zwei von Ihnen Aufenthalt hier, bedecken Sie den Osten, es kann mehr geben. Die Ruhe von Ihnen folgt mir.
- Two of you stay here, cover the east, there may be more. Rest of you follow me.

Überprüfen Sie die anderen Körper für die Intelligenz und ergreifen Sie, dass sonst, der nützlich sein konnte. Stellen Sie zwei zwischen den Augen für das gute Maß ebenso.
- Check the other bodies for intelligence and grab whatever else that could be useful. Put two between the eyes for good measure as well.

Wer Sie sind!?
- Who are you!?

Ihre Scheißmutter!
- Your fucking mother!

... Die Deutschen... Kann nicht Uniformen jetzt gewähren?
- The... The Germans... Can't afford uniforms now?

Finden Sie irgendwelche Dokumentation auf den anderen?
- Find any documentation on the others?

[∬: Erik Schneider]

"Verdammt Schweine. Ekeln," a bitter soldier muttered under his breath, spitting towards the downed Jewish resistance soldiers. At least, the Obersturmfuhrer had assumed they were Jews. The enraged man seemed distraught, perhaps he was too close of a friend of the German who was now struggling in his agony to survive. A rational explanation, but there was always the slim chance he was just one bitter non-commissioned officer. "Schultz, überprüfen den Bereich. Streifen Sie das lebende von seinen Waffen ab. Sie," Schneider paused, his voice morbid, as he pointed at the man who had just spit, "bedecken Sie seine Ass. sicherstellen, dass es niemande im Bereich gibt. Wir würden den Rest der Männer nicht in eine Falle gehen wünschen, wurden wir?"

The man eyed the Obersturmfuhrer for a few moments, lagging behind the fiercely obedient Schultz, before nodding his head and following after the Unterscharfuhrer. Schneider grimaced and turned to face the direction Wolfram's men had been firing from, concealing his face from the others. He was not fond of the man following Schultz, even more so at his hesitation. The only reason the man had been spared of a tongue lashing was simply because there may have been the possibility of more Jews in the area. It would appear that the spitting man, which Schneider did not mind at the least, had a very bad attitude, which Schneider did mind. It could be assumed that his hesitance was due to the fact he was being ordered to follow a lower ranked man.

The second NCO, whose name Schneider recently learned, Herman Albrecht, slapped a new clip of STG44 ammunition into his weapon and followed Schultz. Schneider pulled his rearguard, the other two men he had summoned for the flank that had expended the most ammo in their suppressive fire, in closer towards the area. With fresh clips of ammo, the three men ventured into the bloodied area after Schultz and Albrecht who had cleared the perimeter. The men spread out, cautiously watching the trees and darkness for any signs of movement. "Uh, Herr Obersturmfuhrer? Dieser Jude hat ein ungerades Gewehr. Ein französisches Gewehr. Ein Lebel Modell 1886, exakter sein. Mein Onkel holte eins von diesen nach Hause nach dem großen Krieg. Warum würde ein Jude dieses haben?" the Unterscharfuhrer, having retrieved the oddly uniformed man's rifle, handed the French rifle over to Schneider.

Confused, Schneider pondered how the Jewish resistance had gotten their hands on a French rifle. Or, why? The Lebel was a terrible rifle, outclassed by even the rifles of its time which had long since past. Even if they were in desperation for weapons, where had they been supplied with this? There wasn't enough time to think fully, as there was a rustling in the bushes. Most likely Wolfram and his men, but this was not the time to let your guard down. "Wir besprechen dieses mit dem Sturmbannfuhrer, später. Nehmen Sie das Gewehr und erhalten Sie in irgendeiner Abdeckung. Jeder, Aufenthalt auf Alarm. Halten Sie Ihr Feuer, zwar. Sein konnten friendlies."

The source of the noise was indeed the Sturmbannfuhrer, with a few men cautiously followed behind his hurried approach. Instinctively, they mingled with the other NCOs in securing the perimeter and watching the tree line. Wolfram, faintly stared at the Obersturmfuhrer as he made his way to the corpses in silence. Without a word, Schneider pointed his index finger towards the man who was still barely breathing as he writhed in pain. There was a movement, as the wounded man reached for a concealed weapon, but the Sturmbannfuhrer swiftly reacted by unholstering his P38 and ceasing the futile attempt with a bullet to the bicep. A wave of disappointment came over him, as the man had still managed to hide the weapon from Schultz. The Jews were experts at hiding, so were the French, so it should have surprised the Obersturmfuhrer little that he had gotten the concealed weapon past the Unterscharfurher.

Wolfram acted without mercy, which Schneider admired deeply. In fact, he had replicated it since his first meeting with his commanding officer. Back then, there was only one rank between the two men. Since then, Wolfram had been promoted for his exemplary leadership skills and valiance in battle. Certainly an influence on the Obersturmfuhrer's life, the youthful officer that stood before Wolfram that day had grown much during the grim war. In response to the cold orders of the Sturmbannfuhrer, Schneider unholstered his Luger and approached the bodies. As he passed Wolfram, he glanced over as he tortured the wounded man who had begun to cry out in pain. His pale blue eyes readjusted their focus on the other two bodies, which looked as if they were caught somewhere between life and death.

Schneider solved that problem for them quickly enough. One after another, he aligned the iron sights of the weapon between the fallen resistance members eyes and pulled back on the trigger. There was a slight recoil that push the Luger pistol forward a little, but both bullets hit their target and sliced through their brains rendering their bodies lifeless. As soon as he had finished both off, he swiftly holstered his pistol and began to rummage through their uniforms. They were both scarcely equipped, carrying limited Kar98 ammo most likely stolen from German soldiers. Another shot to the Obersturmfuhrer's right startled him a little and he glanced over to witness the death of the man in the tattered grey coat. Wolfram stood over Schneider, curious about his findings.

"Diese Männer erscheinen zu niedriges geordnet, alle von vieler Bedeutung zu tragen. Als Sie sagte, höchstwahrscheinlich eine kundschaftende Partei. Jedoch fand ich einige Einzelteile des Interesses. Gefälschte Kennzeichnung," he handed over some fake I.D.s and passports to the Sturmbannfuhrer. "Anscheinend sind Dreher und Eigner hier die einfach österreichischen Touristen, die unsere prachtvolle Nation besichtigen. Am wichtigsten, obwohl, ich französische Ausrüstung fand. Ein Lebel 1886 vorbildliches Gewehr sowie ein Kreuz von Lothringen auf einer Halskette. Begleitet von keinen anders als den Davidsstern," signaling for Schultz, the Unterscharfuhrer darted over from his position with the French rifle in his hands. In Schneider's palm, the blood-stained necklace rested.

"Es gerade fügt nicht oben, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer hinzu. Was würde der französische Widerstand mit diesen Juden tun? Ich bedeute, der, was das Kreuz von Lothringen andeuten würde, der französische Widerstand haben verwendet ihn als ihr Symbol ist. Irgendein, das oder sie gerade große Ventilatoren von Joan des Bogens sind," the Obersturmfuhrer spoke, twisting the necklace around in his palm. "Ich habe Geschichten des britischen SOE mit Fallschirm abspringend ihre Mittel in Frankreich gehört, um den französischen Widerstand zu unterstützen und auszubilden. Ich habe sogar Geschichten des amerikanischen OSS gehört, welches die selben für Juden innerhalb Deutschlands selbst tut! Denken Sie diese französischen Juden taten die selben hier? "



Translations:

Verdammt Schweine. Ekeln.
- Fucking pigs. Disgusting.

Schultz, überprüfen den Bereich. Streifen Sie das lebende von seinen Waffen ab. Sie, bedecken Sie seine Ass. sicherstellen, dass es niemande im Bereich gibt. Wir würden den Rest der Männer nicht in eine Falle gehen wünschen, wurden wir?
- Schultz, check the area. Strip the living one of his rifle. You, cover his ass. Make sure there is no one else in the area. We would not want the rest of the men to walk into a trap, would we?

Uh, Herr Obersturmfuhrer? Dieser Jude hat ein ungerades Gewehr. Ein französisches Gewehr. Ein Lebel Modell 1886, exakter sein. Mein Onkel holte eins von diesen nach Hause nach dem großen Krieg. Warum würde ein Jude dieses haben?
- Uh, Herr Obersturmfuhrer? This Jew has an odd rifle. A French rifle. A Lebel Model 1886, to be more precise. My uncle brought one of these home after the Great War. Why would a Jew have this?

Wir besprechen dieses mit dem Sturmbannfuhrer, später. Nehmen Sie das Gewehr und erhalten Sie in irgendeiner Abdeckung. Jeder, Aufenthalt auf Alarm. Halten Sie Ihr Feuer, zwar. Sein konnten friendlies.
- We shall discuss this with the Sturmbannfuhrer, later. Take the rifle and get in some cover. Everybody, stay on alert. Hold your fire, though. Could be friendlies.

Diese Männer erscheinen zu niedriges geordnet, alle von vieler Bedeutung zu tragen. Als Sie sagte, höchstwahrscheinlich eine kundschaftende Partei. Jedoch fand ich einige Einzelteile des Interesses. Gefälschte Kennzeichnung,
- These men appear too lowly ranked to be carrying anything of much importance. As you said, most likely a scouting party. However, I did find a few items of interest. Fake identification.

Anscheinend sind Dreher und Eigner hier die einfach österreichischen Touristen, die unsere prachtvolle Nation besichtigen. Am wichtigsten, obwohl, ich französische Ausrüstung fand. Ein Lebel 1886 vorbildliches Gewehr sowie ein Kreuz von Lothringen auf einer Halskette. Begleitet von keinen anders als den Davidsstern.
- Apparently, Dreher and Eigner here are simply Austrian tourists visiting our glorious nation. Most importantly, though, I found French equipment. A Lebel 1886 model rifle as well as a Cross of Lorraine on a necklace. Accompanied by none other than the Star of David.

Es gerade fügt nicht oben, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer hinzu. Was würde der französische Widerstand mit diesen Juden tun? Ich bedeute, der, was das Kreuz von Lothringen andeuten würde, der französische Widerstand haben verwendet ihn als ihr Symbol ist. Irgendein, das oder sie gerade große Ventilatoren von Joan des Bogens sind.
- It just does not add up, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. What would the French Resistance be doing with these Jews? I mean that is what the Cross of Lorraine would imply, the French Resistance have been using it as their symbol. Either that or they are just big fans of Joan of Arc.

Ich habe Geschichten des britischen SOE mit Fallschirm abspringend ihre Mittel in Frankreich gehört, um den französischen Widerstand zu unterstützen und auszubilden. Ich habe sogar Geschichten des amerikanischen OSS gehört, welches die selben für Juden innerhalb Deutschlands selbst tut! Denken Sie diese französischen Juden taten die selben hier?
- I have heard tales of the British SOE parachuting their agents into France to assist and train the French Resistance. I have even heard tales of the American OSS doing the same for Jews within Germany itself! Do you think these French Jews were doing the same here?

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

A cold heavy droplet of rain coursed down the back of the Sturmbannfuhrer’s neck and for the first time that night, he had a cold shiver rudder it’s self throughout his body. The weather hadn’t let up quite yet and the soft pattering of rain clapping against leaves, branches and the dirt alluded all around them; without a good set of nerves, any man or woman would be itching and twitching to the natural noises surrounding them right now, particularly after encountering a small resistance of a supposed scouting part. What if the full blown column of the troop was about to turn up? For centuries, skirmishers have been a tactical part of war for any mass movement of manpower. You had your patrols up front engaging any hostilities or clearing a path for the ‘main head’ assault, it was a commonly used piece of tactics used during the Napoleonic war and still commonly used presently.

Listening to the Obersturmfuhrer silently on his findings, he plucked the fake identification papers from the fellow officer and gave them the quick once over, flicking the pages swiftly, before holding them tightly bound within the palm of his hand. Then a French rifle was brought forwards and the Sturmbannfuhrer casually glanced to the weapon, having seen a number of them in a cobwebbed armoury he’d once accessed many years ago, ruminants of the first world war weaponry were amongst the armoury’s stockpile, but what really caught the Sturmbannfuhrer’s attention was the cross of Lorraine-cross necklace being held outwards, presented with a star of David shortly after. Immediately, an inner burning sensation engulfed his stomach and his eyes narrowed into thin slits, with a demeaning look of inferior taste inside of his mouth suddenly.

Reaching around to his hip, he unclipped the leather pouch to the Sturmgewehr’s ammunition pack hanging at his side and slid the fake identifications into one of the empty magazine slots inside of the pouch. Returning his gaze towards the Obersturmfuhrer, he inhaled sharply and shrugged simultaneously to the man’s questions in regards to the ‘French Freedom Fighters’ helping the Jews; anything was possible with enough desperation and he figured by the dwindling number of pocketed Jewish resistances left, they were desperate. “Spekulationen Obersturmfuhrer, Spekulationen. Diese untergeordneten Juden konnten Hilfe vom französischen Widerstand oder vielleicht der britische SOE, was das betrifft, bekommen. Eine einfachere Spekulation in dieser Zeit jedoch, konnte sein, dass die Juden größere Zahlen haben als erst, berichtete in unserem Nachrichtendienstschriftsatz. Vielleicht Obersturmfuhrer, diese Juden sind mehr betrieblich, als wir zuerst glaubten; vielleicht hat sich ihr triarch zu anderen Taschen von Partisanen ausgebreitet” he said with a soft tone, knowing the possibilities were possibly endless, but the main factor was that the Jews could perhaps be better equipped and in better shape than first recalled. That was if they were indeed gaining help from the French resistance or any other triarch of freedom fighters or national intelligence agencies.

Clipping his ammunition pouch closed, he shuffled the wet strap to his Sturmgewehr comfortably over his shoulder and gave the cross of Lorraine necklace with a star of David a hideous look from the corner of his eye. “Bleiben Sie ein Halten von ihnen - werfen das Gewehr” he bitterly said with a distaste inside of his mouth still, quite obviously not wanting to hold the necklace, as if it would burn his skin or taint his flesh. Looking about himself momentarily, he abruptly noticed the deafening sound of silence in the woodlands; the rain was still pattering against the leaves above their heads and the harrowing sound of a draft squeezed between the trees still, but the sound of gunfire in the distance and hallowing echoes of voices seized silent. Worse still, if any attempts to warn the Sturmbannfuhrer and his men were attempted to be made, then they wouldn’t know otherwise. The thick foliage above their heads would disrupt their line of sight to any further warning flares sent up and no communication radios were carried amongst the men. The tin-box transmitter he’d used in the basement was for ‘need to know’ basis, reporting back to GHQ on a strict time scale. Now however, he suddenly felt alone and out-numbered?

Biting the inside of his mouth, Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram decided to change the plan of assault. If the French Freedom Fighters or any other partisan group, asides intelligence agency had got into contact with the bulk pocket of Jewish inferiors, then they could very well indeed have a better fighting chance in numbers and equipment; regardless as to what the French Resistance or any other aspect of aid helping them, wanted in return. Facing the Obersturmfuhrer again after a decided moment’s thought, he declared the new plan. “Wir sind dabei, Westen zum Vorposten ein und zwei anzuführen. Es ist, wo die Zündung herkam, und wo die Zündung angehalten hat. Es kann ein Glücksspiel sein, dass der Plan entsprechend gegangen ist, dass die Juden jetzt Osten zum moutains anführen, aber ich ein gutes Gefühl darüber und damit nicht habe, was wir hier gefunden haben, scheint es nicht richtig” The feeling was mutual towards the initial plan now and the
Sturmbannfuhrer had a gut instinct that whoever they were up against, were certainly stronger than first reported and may well have obliterated the outposts to the west and continued heading deeper into forest territory. Something he wished to avoid, wanting to send them eastwards into open ground for a good few miles, where they would stand a greater chance of cutting all the inferiors down before they reached the mountains. Things seemed different now.

Giving the Obersturmfuhrer a long look, as if looking for any responses to his plan, he continued sharply, knowing time was of the essence. “Bereit die Männer, um Westen, Nordwesten anzuführen. Behalten Sie taktischen Abstand und Aufenthalt-Alarmsignal, ich will absoloute Schweigen, wie wir uns den Vorposten nähern. Wenn der Feind die Vorposten überflutet hat, konnten sie sehr gut noch dort sein. Ich gehe keine Risiken jetzt ein, diese Untergeordneten scheinen sehr viel Hilfe von irgendwo zu bekommen” after he’d spoken to the Obersturmfuhrer on the new plan of action, ordering him to get the men ready to head north-west, he turned to yell at one of the soldiers lingering nearby, as if he were eavesdropping on the conversation between the officers. “Sie! Berichten Sie die Details des verwundeten Mannes zu mir sofort” he bellowed towards the tattered dressed soldier, who he’d recognized as the man from earlier, all too keen to go see on the wounded man, than stay around to see what had happened with the enemy’s position once the firing had come to a halt.

As if caught by surprise, the young man straightened up and rehearsed what he had recited within his mind much earlier. “Ah erm - SS-Rottenführer wurde Reiner im Schenkel und niedrigerem Abdomen geschossen. Er braucht dringende medizinische Aufmerksamkeit, herr Sturmbannfuhrer”[/I] the man unveiled with a slight nervous tone to his voice. Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram decidedly nodded and responded in a callous tone. “Wenn er zurück zum Jagdhaus nicht spazieren gehen kann, dann wird er hier bleiben müssen. Verlassen Sie ihn mit viel Morphium und Hälfte seiner Munition, wir müssen das Bewegen bekommen, ich kann nicht einem verwundeten Mann gewähren, der diese Mission in Verlegenheit bringt, und mit kleinen Arbeitskräften haben wir, ich brauche jeden gesunden Mann, den ich bekommen kann!!” he yelled towards the soldier in a frustrated tone, because of the unknown circumstances now arising, knowing that they were heading into the unknown - blind by what could be a complete Allied assault, rather than a Jewish flock of inferiors.

Turning away, Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram gritted his teeth and awaited the Obersturmfuhrer’s readying orders to move…

OOC: You can god-mode them walking north-west if you like, if it gives you more to write. Same with whatever they find at the outpost, friendly soldiers, scattered dead or conspicuous German dressed soldiers too casually calm even. It’s entirely up to you if you want to go that far. Like I said before, I’m just improvising as we go along, makes for better twists and deeper plots.


Translations:[/b]

Spekulationen Obersturmfuhrer, Spekulationen. Diese untergeordneten Juden konnten Hilfe vom französischen Widerstand oder vielleicht der britische SOE, was das betrifft, bekommen. Eine einfachere Spekulation in dieser Zeit jedoch, konnte sein, dass die Juden größere Zahlen haben als erst, berichtete in unserem Nachrichtendienstschriftsatz. Vielleicht Obersturmfuhrer, diese Juden sind mehr betrieblich, als wir zuerst glaubten; vielleicht hat sich ihr triarch zu anderen Taschen von Partisanen ausgebreitet.
- Speculations Obersturmfuhrer, speculations. These inferior Jews could be getting help from the French resistance or perhaps the British SOE for that matter. A more simple speculation at this time however, could be that the Jews have larger numbers than first reported in our intelligence brief. Maybe Obersturmfuhrer, these Jews are more operational than we first believed; perhaps their triarch has expanded to other pockets of partisans.

Bleiben Sie ein Halten von ihnen - werfen das Gewehr.
- Keep a hold of them - throw the rifle.

Wir sind dabei, Westen zum Vorposten ein und zwei anzuführen. Es ist, wo die Zündung herkam, und wo die Zündung angehalten hat. Es kann ein Glücksspiel sein, dass der Plan entsprechend gegangen ist, dass die Juden jetzt Osten zum moutains anführen, aber ich ein gutes Gefühl darüber und damit nicht habe, was wir hier gefunden haben, scheint es nicht richtig.
- We're going to head West towards outpost one and two. That's where the firing was coming from and where the firing has stopped. It may be a gamble that the plan has gone accordingly, that the Jews are now heading East to the mountains, but I don't have a good feeling about this and with what we have found here, it doesn't seem right.

Bereit die Männer, um Westen, Nordwesten anzuführen. Behalten Sie taktischen Abstand und Aufenthalt-Alarmsignal, ich will absoloute Schweigen, wie wir uns den Vorposten nähern. Wenn der Feind die Vorposten überflutet hat, konnten sie sehr gut noch dort sein. Ich gehe keine Risiken jetzt ein, diese Untergeordneten scheinen sehr viel Hilfe von irgendwo zu bekommen.
- Ready the men to head west, north-west. Keep tactical spacing and stay alert, I want absoloute silence as we approach the outposts. If the enemy have overrun the outposts, they could very well still be there. I'm not taking any chances now, these inferiors seem to be getting a great deal of help from somewhere.

Sie! Berichten Sie die Details des verwundeten Mannes zu mir sofort.
- You! Report the details of the wounded man to me immediately.

Ah erm - SS-Rottenführer wurde Reiner im Schenkel und niedrigerem Abdomen geschossen. Er braucht dringende medizinische Aufmerksamkeit, herr Sturmbannfuhrer
- Ah, erm - SS-Rottenführer Reiner was shot in the thigh and lower abdomen. He needs urgent medical attention, herr Sturmbannfuhrer.

Wenn er zurück zum Jagdhaus nicht spazieren gehen kann, dann wird er hier bleiben müssen. Verlassen Sie ihn mit viel Morphium und Hälfte seiner Munition, wir müssen das Bewegen bekommen, ich kann nicht einem verwundeten Mann gewähren, der diese Mission in Verlegenheit bringt, und mit kleinen Arbeitskräften haben wir, ich brauche jeden gesunden Mann, den ich bekommen kann!
- If he can't walk back to the cabin, then he will have to stay here. Leave him with plenty of morphine and half of his ammunition, we must get moving, I can not afford a wounded man compromising this mission and with little manpower we have, I need every healthy man I can get!