Passage to Caen [OPEN]

[MSG. Steven J. McMillan]

Destination: France, Outskirts of Caen.
Weather: Heavy downpour of rain, but a vague shimmer of daylight behind the clouds.
Time: 1603hrs


Positioned on the outskirts of Caen within a small rural village, primarily made up of pig-farms and independent masonry buildings built by the local community along a fine stretch of winding road leading into Caen; Steven and twenty-one men, shy of a working platoon, were ordered to garrison the rural village and await further orders, presumably their details on an advance into Caen to help Field Marshal Montgomery’s seizing of Caen. Reports had ‘herald’ back from the British in Caen as becoming somewhat of a ‘sticky situation’ and Steven had been privy to the detailed reports, along with the constant wireless radio signals coming from Caen, being intercepted by the platoon’s radio operative on the quiet. The operation was a need to know basis from high-command, but being so close to the frontier with a proper working radio and user to be had, Steven couldn’t help ordering his radio operative to listen silently to the transmissions being passed overhead; perhaps he could understand their current light of situation better by knowing the fine details?

Gavin Madog, the radio operative for the platoon was given the church office towards the back of the establishment, perhaps the only quiet place that was peaceful in the church by now. The church sanctuary had been turned into a fully mobile platoon headquarters however, with a majority of the benches that once faced the alter, were now stacked against one wall and the odd few that weren’t stacked aside, were used as seating arrangements against some low top tables found in the church. The alter it’s self was untouched, as a mark of respect, but the sanctuary had been completely turned over nonetheless and within the middle of the hall, a few tables were slotted together and maps strewn across the surface with blotters and other pieces of equipment surrounding them.

Candles had been requisitioned from the church stock and were appropriately placed around the sanctuary to provide a source of light. The storm raging outside had cast a blanket of darkness over the small rural village, despite being early afternoon and failed to let-up. At least the men were dry though, well, most of the platoon at least; sentries had been placed around the village to keep a watchful eye for enemy activity, but most importantly, to watch the road leading into Caen. Steven was an optimistic at the best of times and doubted the Germans would even bother attempting to seize a small rural passage that lead into Caen, when their toils and troubles were dealing with the British attempting to seize the town in the mass quantity. Still, his fears were strudel with the road and couldn’t shake the gut instinct that plagued him in regards to keeping the road fortified over anything else surrounding the town. Nerves? Perhaps, most likely, but Steven knew that they wouldn’t have been positioned at the small rural town without some sort of fear or acknowledgement from high-command that the Germans would deem it important, maybe? It was, after all, a passage into Caen. Nonetheless, Steven couldn’t shake the feeling that instead of the Allies using the road into Caen, the Germans would use it out of Caen to mount a counterattack. It was all speculation to say the least.

Sliding a cigarette from his breast pocket, Steven smouldered the end of his cigarette over the candle’s flame on the table and puffed to ignite the tobacco. Gazing down upon two large maps spread out across the table in front of himself, he continued to toil with the idea of the Germans mounting a counterattack into Allied lines using the road they were on. The thought was ridiculous at such a stage climax with their troubles against the British in Caen, they wouldn’t dare separate their numbers to attack, when they needed to defend. The thought was soon shrugged off as Steven slowly walked towards the church’s two large wooden reinforced doors, gently parting them open a gap to peer out into the heavy rain falling upon the street of the rural town and take a drag on his cigarette quietly, just watching.

The town’s patrol he’d set up slowly walked by the church, the two men on duty muttering about a baseball game from last year, seeming as though they were in a world of their own. Steven smiled to himself a little, before flicking the dog-end of his cigarette off into the street and turned to walk back into the sanctuary of the church once more. Everything was peaceful and quiet, the mere sound of the rain soothing as it fell from above. Sergeant Marshall’s light snoring the only real inhibitor to the silence, as he slept on one of the benches in the sanctuary, in fact, there must have been five people in the sanctuary and the only real noise was coming from Sergeant Marshall. Typical, he thought.

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OOC: Not the best post, been a while since I made one. This thread is open to one or two other people. American or British, that’s fine and I do have a small plot for this thread, so if you want to know more, PM me. Nothing major, just a course of action for the thread.

[PFC. Joey Toniatti]

OOC: Not my best post, sorry about that. Also sorry about it being so late. Been busy recently.

Journal Entry From Joey Toniatti’s Journal:
Looking back at that small passage to Caen things pop into my head. Though on thing for sure stands out, That town did not deserve the bloodshed it watched.

The whole damn company was buzzing with news the night before the Platoon moved out to Caen. Not much was known about the area the platoon would go or what would hit them in attack soon after. Mostly made up of young men also the platoon was ever so in-experienced with combat except for the few who had survived from the landings of the beaches or dropping from the C-47s into the un-known.

Within the platoon’s experienced privates was one by the name of Joey Toniatti. He had landed on the beaches, fought his way through France all the way up to Caen. This time his platoon would be the first to be called on to get into the outskirts of Caen and brace for attack or anything else that could happen out there. It was all in Montgomery’s plan to win the war and head back home in time to see the family. Tough luck that it would be even harder to make it home.

Soon enough the soldiers reached the town, and set up into a smaller church that the soldiers were used to. The higher officers ordered gently to the others to start setting up a field HQ, something that the soldiers could live in. The benches were pushed to the side and used as make shift beds for some but most chose to sleep on the floor or not sleep at all. The platoon began to quiet down as the sun fell and the moon rose taking away most of the light and replacing it with darkness.

The rain still pitter-pattered above the churches inside and onto the roof, making a peaceful sound for sleep. Although this was nice for sleeping few took the opportunity to do so as nerves were still built up a bit around the newer guys. They had yet to learn how to learn how to sleep in war and let their emotions just drift away in the breeze.

War was an emotionless game of killing to most. The one who could be the most heartless would win but in the end the one who could care the most for war would come away with the true victory. Soon enough Joey had fallen asleep, dreaming of the life back home. Forgetting the war for as long as his sleep was imminent. Although soon enough some noise brook out across the church and Joey was rudely awoken. Looking up he noticed that one of the Sergeants had began to snore within his sleep. Shaking his head, Joey stood up and pulled out a small wrapped up aluminum bag from his chest pocket. Unfolding it revealed some long cut Snuff that had been sent from home in his most recent care package. Joey smiled a bit and put some below his bottom lip before being stopped in his footsteps by the Platoons highest NCO, Master Sergeant McMillan. He must have bumped into him walking towards the door to get some fresh air as he felt a small pain go through his right shoulder before disappearing. Looking up Joey said with a calm voice ”Sorry Sir. I was not paying attention to what was in front of me.” Joey hadn’t done this before but he didn’t believe that he had done it now. He was still somewhat asleep therefore he was not fully aware of his surroundings. He could taste the taste of his chew bellow his bottom lip and soon enough Joey gently spit to his right as he awaited the Master Sergeants reply.

[MSG. Steven J. McMillan]

OOC: Post was fine. I like the journal entry at the top too. Also, it’s not night-time it’s only after 4pm, but the storm clouds above isn’t helping matters, so it’s technically just very gloomy. Just wanted to make that clear, before you begin to think it’s midnight or something, when it’s only just very overcast and gloomy due to the storm.


Turning away from the entrance and taking a step back inwards within the sanctuary of the church, he suddenly found himself knocked back with the same step he was stepping forwards with and momentarily steadied himself against the shoulder of the man who’d clumsily bumped into him. The reflex of his arm was sharp, his fingers dug grooves into the man’s shoulder and gripped at the battle fatigue he wore, steadying his bulky and physical embodiment from toppling backwards like a grand-old-tree falling from grace; his feet padded against the floor stiffly and his legs gained a balanced composure instantly. Steven wasn’t one for falling off his feet, he wasn’t the clumsy type.

Having steadied himself, he looked to the young private who drearily spoke to him and apologised. Steven hardly held a grudge against anyone, but couldn’t help feeling irritated and perhaps annoyed by the soldier’s incompetence at such a crucial time. They were sitting idle on the outskirts of a battlefield; gunshots and minor explosions echoing in the distance across the vast plains and the young man, young private, couldn’t look where he was going? He dreaded to the think of the soldier having the same state of mind during a conflict, but rather bumping into Steven, he’d bump straight into Jerry or just not see him at all. Whatever emotions Steven - Master Sergeant McMillan felt like displaying, he buried the urge to raise his voice and dulled any sense of real annoyance as best he could; this was nor the time or place to berate the private for incompetence, when his fellow sergeants and a few soldiers resting in the sanctuary had a well earned sleep.

Letting go of the private’s soldier and standing straight upon his own two feet, Steven nodded. “Just look where you’re going next time private” he simply suggested, also realising that the private had addressed him as an officer; calling him sir. “It’s sergeant, private. I didn’t earn these chevrons sitting in a community college” he joked, even though it sounded more insulting towards the commissioned class of officers. Steven was a hardened veteran and had earned his rank through sheer conflict and good training, not once had his current title been earned through an imperious line of paperwork and academic teaching. Steven liked to regard the barrier between non-commissioned-officers and commissioned-officers as a very slippery plank to walk, in his books, there was only a handful of good officers he truly respected as men. The rest however, he merely respected as uniforms. He was a firm believer in ’learning on the job’ and commissioned officers lacked that true quality that brought them down to earth with the rest of everyone else - some called it a lack of responsibility for the duty, others called it a lust for power, but Steven called it inexperience and a majority of the commissioned officers always were.

Turning to walk away from the private, Steven stopped in mid-flow and turned to look back at the private once more, remembering something. “Come with me private” he said firmly, as he motioned with his hand for the private to follow him as he walked towards the focus point in the sanctuary; the table littered with maps and pieces of ruling equipment alongside a few candles. Reaching the table, he brushed his hand along the map in front of himself and moved one of the candles closer for some extra light. “We have a two man sentry setup half a mile down the road leading into Caen, watching for any enemy activity moving along the road and heading our way” but he paused for a few seconds, looking to the private slowly. “It’s roughly after four o’clock, they should have reported in thirty minutes ago. Seeing as you’re the only one awake, I think you just volunteered to be my runner” he said with a blank expression, wanting the private to run down to the sentry half a mile away and report back with their findings, find out why they were late reporting back themselves.

Waiting for some sort of reply or acknowledgement form the soldier on the details of what he simply has to do, Steven soon found himself becoming distracted by a loud pattering of feet running just outside of the church. Instantly the doors swung open and two privates came bawling into the sanctuary with enough noise that woke everyone up with a surprise. “Sarge’!”[/I] one of the men panted, utterly out of breath, the pair of them barely standing on their feet in front of Steven and the private as they attempted to speak between catching their breath, having exerted themselves. “Jerry… Infantry… Tanks….”[/I] he panted out, the private next to him attempting to help explain it better: “Germans on the road -- lots of ‘em heading this way”[/I] it took a minute for Steven to notice the men’s faces through the thicket of darkness, but soon realised the men were the two man sentry appointed half a mile down the road. The sentry that was late to report back. Now their report held quite unexpected news of the Germans heading straight for them!

In awe, Master Sergeant McMillan looked to the awake faces in the sanctuary and quickly snapped into life whilst they still had time. “Sergeant Marshall! Arouse the men immediately!” he ordered, watching as the sergeant hastily ran from the church and out into the bitter rain, going to arouse everyone to their positions in heed of combat. Sergeant Miller quickly stepped to stand alongside the private at the table for orders. “Miller - take four men and get the ammo’ pile assorted to the machinegun positions quickly, they’re going to need everything they can get” he grimly ordered, watching as the sergeant moved away and tapped Private Toniatti to follow him, but Steven quickly intervened with: “This private’s with me Miller, everyone look alive!” he lastly bellowed out, once again motioning for the private to follow him as he trotted over towards his kit stacked up against the wall.

Grabbing his gear, Steven quickly fastened the webbing around his chest and swung a pouched belt around his waist for ammunition compartments. Hauling up his Thompson SMG by the sling and tossing it over his shoulder, he threw a haversack towards the private he’d ordered to stay with him and quickly said “carry that - we’re gonna’ need those extra grenades” and with that, Steven moved to the opposite end of the church towards the windows facing the oncoming road and looked out. Everyone in the village had started moving around frantically, the noise of feet and voices everywhere, yet the soft pattering noise of the rain continued to soothe the nerves.

War was coming…

OOC: Sorry the post is long winded and there isn’t much to do. Should be fun from here on out.

[PFC. Joey Toniatti]

[OOC: Didn’t see it said 1600 hours at the top. Sorry about that. Also I hope you don’t mind me jumping ahead to the combat a bit.]

The rain continued to drizzle on the roof of the church hard as a soothing sound surrounded the soldiers inside to a nice dull sleep. There were some light snores and even a few moans as the sanctuary housed nearly a whole platoon to sleep. It was a peaceful sight to see men accustomed to war just calm and soothed by the rain outside.

Joey was a fairly built guy, broad shoulders and defined muscles along his whole body. He also loved to play sports back home, football, hockey, baseball. You name it he would love to play it. This made it possible for Joey to take a few hits and not stumble back to far or at least stumble at all. Bumping into the Sergeant only really caused Joey to look up and stare at the Sergeant, hoping not to get his head screamed off at for not paying any attention to where he was walking. Though it did seem that the sergeant wasn’t upset about it all. In fact he came out a word of common advice followed by a joke.

Toniatti smiled and asked the Sergeant a question about his rank ”Sir..” He paused and fixed himself ”I mean Sergeant. How exactly did you earn your rank?” Joey had been stuck at private for a while now and was beginning to wonder if he’d ever move up a rank. It seemed like it may just be impossible to happen but Joey believed that Corporal would be given to him soon enough. ”I mean, if it isn’t too much to ask Sarge.” Joey’s voice had a deep Italian accent to it, almost sounding like the Italians running around Africa for Rommel.

Though before Joey could say another word to the sergeant he told him to come with him. Toniatti couldn’t say no so he spun on his heels and began to follow the Sergeant only stopping to grab his gear and keep moving towards the edge of the church. Soon enough they stopped at a table, covered in maps, and the Sergeant began to speak of the sentry post up ahead on the road leading into Caen. Joey listened carefully up to the point of him being told to go and find these men at the post. ”And what if I don’t come back Sarge?” Joey wasn’t all too sure about being the runner but he easily shrugged it off and continued listening up until they were interrupted by the sounds of two young soldiers out of breath and hollering about something. They both seemed scared and they were both the two men assigned for the Sentry position. A bit jokingly Joey turned to the Sergeant and said ”Sir, I’ve found the two men at the Sentry.” But before he could let out a laugh the two men began to speak of Germans. Was this true that the road to Caen was to be attacked?

Soon enough the Master Sergeant began to bark out orders to everyone else in the church, the attack was here. Joey felt scared yet anxious to fight the Germans today. He listened carefully to what the Sergeant was saying and soon enough Joey was beginning to head off to a squad, Sergeant Miller’s squad. But before he could head off with them Sergeant McMillan told them otherwise. Joey was to stay with him for some reason. Turning back around Toniatti began to move back over with the Sergeant and he looked up to him and said with a bit of a stutter in his words ”Sarge, what if it’s the whole division coming in? I’m sure we don’t have the supplies to take out a Battalion let alone a division.” Joey remember back to when he scanned over the whole Platoon, looking at what resources they had and he knew for a fact they didn’t have the resources to take out tanks and infantry.

Joey lost his train of thought as a sack of grenades were thrown at him. The Sergeant told him to hold onto them and he sure did, strapping the sac onto his ammunition belt to keep them safe and secure until needed. Joey looked to the Sergeant once more as they began to move out of the church ”Do we have anything to take out those tanks Sergeant?” Joey awaited an answer but soon enough the two of them were knocked off of their feet as a mortar round landed nearly fifteen yards away from them Shit! Toniatti let out as he quickly got up to his feet and helped the Sergeant up to his feet also. ”Sarge we cant stay out here, we’ve got to dig in” Toniatti let out as they kept moving.

[OOC: I god modded just a little bit but not too much. Hope you don’t mind. If there is something wrong with what I did with the god modding just let me know and I’ll edit the post. You’ve really struck my muse now though ]

[MSG. Steven J. McMillan]

OOC: No I don’t mind the god modding bit, I only have a problem if you god mode my character being shot or running somewhere I don’t want him to go, but that’s fine what you’ve done. Helps us get to the good bit of this thread faster.


Hearing the private consciously mention the fact that the Germans could have a whole battalion moving in on them, Steven simply smirked and shook off the demoralising thought, responding with a more positive tone to the grim situation. “Then we have a whole battalion of Krauts to kill then private” the Master Sergeant responded, his eyes staring out of the window of the church the whole time, watching the road ahead as two Panzerkampfwagen IV tanks stopped in the distance, followed closely by a large force of Panzer-Grenadiers moving around the two tanks on the road to move forwards and take the lead. It seemed as if they knew the village was occupied; the Panzer-Grenadiers only ever took the lead over the tanks when they were assaulting dug-in positions. It was the Wehrmacht’s method of protecting their tanks, stir up the enemy a little with infantry, before sending in the big guns if necessary. Besides, a soldier was worth far less than their precious armour.

As the Master Sergeant and Private moved out of the church, the soldier queried on how they were going to take out the tanks. Steven’s mind went blank momentarily, he’d only spotted two pieces of armour, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t another eight or twelve pieces of armour lagging behind on the road. It was common to send up a skirmishing party for the assault, followed by reinforcements or the whole column afterwards if required. It saved losing larger numbers or tiring out the whole company if they hit their targets with just enough resources to put up a fight, but either way, Steven knew even two pieces of armour was going to be a big enough match for them. “A lot of guts and grenades Private” the Master Sergeant responded sharply, as he hauled open the church doors and moved out into the street with the private.

Stepping out onto the road, Steven looked around sharply and watched as the first HMG nest (Heavy Machinegun nest) opened fire from a three story building at the end of the rural village with their 30.Cal Browning. Tracer rounds marked the strafing routes of the bullets across the open field between them and the Nazis. Steven barely watched the onslaught of the HMG nest at the end of the town for a few seconds and kept his bearings for half that, when a sudden explosion erupted from the road meters away and knocked him from off his feet effortlessly; the Master Sergeant felt his body crumple against the ground with enough force, that he felt the air in his lungs squeeze out and his head stir with a daze.

Laying motionless for a split second, Steven gasped for a breath and rolled onto his front slowly. The ringing in his ears was deafening and his vision took a moment to focus again, but he regained his composure quickly and dug his knee into the ground under himself to push himself up and staggered to his feet wobbly. “Private… Private!” Steven yelled, not quite knowing if the soldier that was with him was even still in one piece or not, but soon found his answer as the private hurried over to him and helped him to stay steady upon his feet, saying something about moving? Steven couldn’t make out what the soldier had said, the deafening ringing in his ears hadn’t subsided yet, but it didn’t take much for Steven to know what the Private was trying to say, as they both moved quickly off the road and towards some more immediate shelter.

Moving towards one of the houses several yards down the road, Steven leant against the house’s exterior and shook off the dazed feeling from the mortar round. Unlike the Master Sergeant and Private though, two soldiers weren’t so lucky as a fleeing mortar round impacted the road running through the small village once more and imploded directly upon two men carrying supplies to one of the MG positions. They must have been volunteers for Sergeant Miller’s group to rally supplies to the three MG positions set up along the town; quickly after another mortar round struck the side of one of the buildings nearby, spreading a mound of debris onto the road as half of the wall collapsed like tumbling bricks.

Steven grimaced quietly and looked to the Private who was with him, they were getting hammered by mortar rounds and the Panzer-Grenadiers to their front. “We’re getting fucked” Steven blurted out angrily, finally coming to his senses after regaining his composure from the close mortar round and hauled his Thompson SMG up to his chest and lock the bolt back to load the chamber. “C’mon!” he snapped and quickly began to run down the village towards the front, where the Germans were making their advance. Upon reaching the end of the village, a majority of the platoon had set up positions along the edge of the town, garrisoning buildings and digging in against whatever cover outside of the buildings too.

Suddenly stopping, Steven threw his arm out and pushed the Private running with him backward against the wall as gunfire blurted down the road in front of them and narrowly missed them both. “Private, let’s get into that building over there!” Steven hollered, as he nodded towards one of the buildings garrisoned by several of soldiers from the platoon. “Alright, covering fire! Move!” Steven swung from out of cover and sprayed his Thompson SMG down the road and towards the open field where the stray bullets were coming from and stepped sideways quickly, moving towards the building and sliding in through the door quickly. The building they moved into was one of four buildings occupied by the platoon in the village, attempting to barrage the enemy with fire and prevent them from penetrating the town. Inside was a Corporal and six privates on all the windows, popping off rounds across the field towards the Panzer-Grenadiers slowly moving towards the town.

Looking to the Private with him, Steven reloaded his Thompson SMG and spoke “Alright Private, get on one of those windows with your BAR and give ‘em hell! We’re gonna’ need those grenades for when the armour moves up though, so keep ‘em Private” he ordered, before flinching as a stray round bounced off the wall beside him. The mortars were still popping off in the distance, but they were stationed too far away for infantry fire to effect them and a flanking assault on the mortars would put the village at risk of crucial manpower they need fighting the enemy.

OOC: Sorry I god modded you running with me and stuff. If you’re a little confused by the set-up of what’s happening, we’re in a building facing the enemy across a large plain field where the enemy is starting their advance. There’s other buildings in the village facing the enemy too, with soldiers shooting at them. The tanks however, aren’t advancing on the town yet.

[PFC. Joey Toniatti]

[OOC: Sorry for the wait, I’ve been sick for a while and the post sucks. I took charge in leading a conversation between soldiers a bit. Suppose Steven could make out his plan to everyone else after the conversation as it only takes a few seconds.]

Joey rushed to his feet as the Master Sergeant began to move once more. He hadn’t said much to him, he looked like he was dazed and so was Joey in a few ways. Blurred sight and fucked up hearing. He could hear except for the little bit of ringing that was buzzing around in his ears. Shaking it off the Sergeant began to exclaim about the current skirmishing.

Joey agreed with every little bit of speech the Sergeant spit out. He didn’t say any words to go along with his words, but Joey damn sure followed everything he was saying. Didn’t make much sense for him not to, because if Joey stayed there he could be killed by the bombardment.

Soon enough the Master Sergeant proposed that they moved into the building across from the street they were running across. Joey nodded as he flung his helmet back onto his head. It would at least protect Joey from shrapnel of sorts and keep him alive if anything flew down from the air. Gripping the middle of his firearm, Joey followed Steven in between two buildings and down an alleyway.

The Master Sergeant gave Joey some covering fire, not that it was particularly needed, and Joey crossed the road swiftly. Soon enough he made it to the building and Steven was right behind him as they both entered into the building. It was getting shelled and Joey could see the mortars that were laying down the barrage. Joey turned to Steven and listened as he began to set up the BAR into an empty window and began to watch as the skirmishing party moved into the town. It was off to the edge and Joey had no shot at them at all, and with the little ammo he had he was not going to waste it.

Turning to the Sergeant Joey asked him ”Sarge where is our radio? Can we order for some armor or something?” Though before the Sergeant could give a full answer a mortar round landed straight outside of the building nearly five yards from the windows. Joey and the others were either knocked back or down onto they’re rear ends as the shrapnel flew through the walls. One soldier wasn’t so lucky though as his helmet was peppered, no damage to the actual body though.

Turning back to the Sergeant Joey yelled out ”Fuck Sarge we have to get rid of those damned Mortars!” Pausing Joey turned back around and fired a few rounds off towards an advancing German squad. The men in the building took them out and Joey turned back to the Sergeant. ”What’s your plan Sergeant?” Joey was beginning to get a bit anxious as he turned back around to watch a whole platoon move into the building across from them. Firing off his BAR at them he was able to take out two or three of them before the Grenadiers entered the building. One man from the other end of the room yelled out ”Shit we have to get them out of there.” But before anyone else could answer another one said ”I think Clint has an M9 that could be handy for taking them out of there.” Joey ran out of bullets in his clip and began to put a new one in. They were in deep shit now.