Forest Fire

[George O'Brian]

D-Day+25
Time of Day (24 Hour Clock): 1443
Current Weather Conditions: Sun shine, warm temperature. Very few clouds.

OOC: Hautt, forgot to mention in the sign-up, but you should start on the northern part of the map. Then again, if you want to go else where you can. Map's a 24-BMP. Takes a bit longer to upload, but deteriorates slower.

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O'Brian slowly moved through the thick brush, his M1 Carbine held tightly to his chest. He swayed it slightly side to side to help clear a path. To either side of him and slightly back he could hear swishing noised of the rest of his squad, slowly moving forwards. He squinted forwards, through the Normandy sunlight streaming down from above and spotted the sideways form of a wooden cart ahead.

He came to a halt, raising a clenched fist and moving down in to a crouch, his foliage-clad helmet slipping below the plants. Instantly, the rest of the movement stopped. "Move in," he hissed, and the noise resumed as everybody came on to him. He twisted around to check nobody was sticking out before talking quietly.

"This shouldn't be too hard. Road ahead, another possible ambush point. We know how much Jerry wants to hold this place, so we need to be careful. Remember, we're getting pulled off the line day after tomorrow. No reason to lose any of you, equally, no reason for any of us to get lazy. We're going to do the same drill as last time, OK, unless anybody else has a suggestion?" He paused in his quiet talk, and saw a group of helmets swaying side to side to indicate nobody wanted to try anything else. "Right. We're just going to sit here for a few minutes, check for any movement, you all know the drill. Outwards turn."

On this command, everybody twisted out so they had a 360 arc of cover and brought weapons in to a position ready to be fired. It was all about patience, this advancing malarkey.

[Deleted]

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"Shhh! Haltet es deprimiert! " he hissed vehemently at his six-man squad. Going into a crouch behind a tree, he held his fist up, and everyone in the group stopped dead, going into crouches as well. Listening intently, he could hear the very faint sound of artillery or tank fire in the distance, but nothing else, mind the birds and the usual forest critters. Opening his fist, the men began their trekk once more.

They had been trudging east, and parallel alongside the same godforsaken road for three days. Their orders were to engage any infantry they met, and attempt to slow down the rapidly advancing Americans by any means necessary. For three days, they had seen nothing, and heard nothing, aside from the ever-approaching sound of gunfire in the distance. They had chosen to walk on the north side road, rather than on it, which was slower going, but leaving them less likely to be seen. They had smeared mud on their faces, and then their helmets, removing the reflective sheen, as well as taking bits of cloth and using them for foliage loops, breaking the outline. Their uniforms had not even needed modification, being covered in dirt and grime just from trudging the thick brush. They had even gone so far as to tie their equipment to their bodies with thin cord so not even the occasional clink of a gas mask container against shovel could be heard. They were, in essence, a ghost squad.

Holding his hand up once more, he looked towards the road to the south of them, and seeing noone, propped himself against a tree, as his soldiers did the same. Half of them kept their weapons up, and eyes open, and the other three reached for their canteens, following suit of Hautt. Twisting the lid off slowly, he held the near-empty canteen to his mouth, the water wetting his parched lips and throat. Putting the lid back on, he placed it inside it's khaki cover, unslinging his rifle and standing up. Once everyone had satisfied their thirst, it was back to marching again, their boots nearly silent on the soft french soil.

Twenty minutes more of marching, and more than a few grumblings, they noticed a horsecart laying on the road, overturned, crates strewn everywhere. Pushing a flat palm downward, the newbie Privates understood, and went prone, crawling, and using the hedgerows as cover as they approached the horsecart carefully. If the area was found to be safe, they might even allow themselves the luxery of a break and cold half-rations.


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Translations:

"Shhh! Haltet es deprimiert! "
"Shh! Keep it down! "

[George O'Brian]

OOC:I feel like a rigth muppet, I forgot to put positions in the last map. Anyway, we'll just carry on.

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"Alright. Let's have another quick look around." O'Brian stood up, lookign over towards the road. You never know, you might get lucky and have a whole German column marching down. "Holy shit." O'Brian swore in a horse whisper and dropped back down. "German squad, breaking off the road in to the bush. Hey, hold it." He directed that last part to Private Brown, who was getting ready to pounce up and shoot. "We're too far back, we'll just cause them to bolt and call in the armour. We're going to ignore them for now, OK?"

He recieved a round of nods, a few forced, but nods nonetheless. "OK, who wants to go scout? Excellent, Bobby, Williams." He nodded at a pair of raised hands. "I'll go lead..." Bobby trailed off, beggining to move forward. "Bobby is lead," acknowledged O'Brian. "You still got your crickets?"

The men reached in to brest pockets, pulling out the small plastic devices they'd been given on D-Day to covertly contact each other. "Good. Use them to call us forward. If we hear shooting, we'll pour it on, just like last time. And the time before. Oh, and the time before." There was a small sniggering at this, the process of moving on and and on one road at a time seemed almost tedious.

O'Brian signalled the four staying with him, and they moved forward slightly to get behind trees, ready to use the thick, ancient trunks as cover. It seemed almost sacriligous, really. They crouched down again, getting on to one knee so there helmets were below the edge of the bush so they were almost invisible.

The two squads moved forward, slightly apart, moving through foliage, slowly pushing it aside, semi-automatic M1 Garands raised and ready to fire. They just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, stopping every few steps, going on to both knees and listening. They made sure all the time they were below cover so a eager-eyed sniper couldn't get them. Bobby licked his lips with anticipation, ready for Kraut. He came to a halt a few meters back from the edge, and lowered himself so he was prone. Williams came to a stop a few meters back, getting behind a tree and crouching down. They stopped doing anything apart from breathing and listening. If any Germans were nearby, they'd be able to find them. Hopefully, this would turn in to a crossing, a regular, boring crossing.

[Deleted]

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Coming to a halt, Hautt and his men stood to crouches, each man under the cover of a tree. Taking a quick glance towards the road, Hautt shook his head to clear the mental buzzing. He couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone. Looking at his men, each looking bored and thinking their leader a lunatic who saw ghosts, he whispered harshly at the men farthest from the road, Paul Hartmann and Claus Köhler. "Schütze Hartmann, Schütze Köhler! Sehen Sie lebend aus! Gehen Sie zu jenen Handwagen zurück, und bewegen Sie sich leise. Ich werde etwas versuchen," he said quickly. "Karl und Franz, Sie zwei einfach bot sich an, sie zu decken. Sehen Sie lebend aus!" he said, aiming down his rifle sights towards the road, eyes alert, scanning for the slightest movement, as the Schmidt brothers, Karl and Franz, did the same, Schütze Friedrich and Schütze Wilhelm each keeping an eye on the deep woods to the north.

Hautt planned to use quick fire from Hartmann and Köhler to draw any possible enemies to them, Hautt and two others with rifles ready, for the split moment an enemy would break cover to return fire. Of course, they did not know if there was an enemy yet, but they had to go by Hautt's intuition, which for the past three days, had proved wrong.

Hartmann and Köhler slid like invisible snakes through grass, stopping a few dozen feet away from the carts, looking to Hautt. Counting to ten, he nodded, they stood up, each blindly firing a round towards the other side of the road, ducking behind whatever cover they could find, Hartmann, a small bush, Köhler, a tree.


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Translations:

"Schütze Hartmann, Schütze Köhler! Sehen Sie lebend aus! Gehen Sie zu jenen Handwagen zurück, und bewegen Sie sich leise. Ich werde etwas versuchen,"
"Private Hatmann, Private Köhler! Look alive! Get back to those carts, and move quietly. I'm going to try something,"

"Karl, Franz, Sie zwei einfach bot sich an, sie zu decken. Sehen Sie lebend aus!"
"Karl, Franz, you two just volunteered to cover them. Look alive! "

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Mark!

Just a note: Nathan, you’ve made about a million spelling mistakes in your last two posts.

Actions:
SS-Scharführer Hautt

• Hartmann and his buddy tried to move unseen through the foliage, but faint rustlings gave their movements away and the keen eyes of Private Bobby noticed the undergrowth moving slightly. However, Private Williams didn’t see from his position behind the tree and Bobby didn’t dare try and alert him, for fear that it would give his position away.
  
  
• He waited until the two stood up and then he opened fire. He fired four rounds at Private Hartmann and managed to hit him in the upper left arm. The bullet hit his humerus and cracked it; leaving itself partially embedded in the bone. Hartmann gave a scream of pain, dropped his rifle and collapsed backwards into the foliage.
  
  
• Private Williams was surprised by the sudden noise of the gunshots and before he knew what he was doing, he had partially raised himself out of the foliage. This was what the rest of the German squad had been waiting for. They started popping off bullets at him with their bolt-action rifles. He dived back to the ground, but not before he received a glancing blow to his chest. The bullet came in at an angle and cracked a rib, but it was deflected from a path through his internal organs and came back out of his chest a few centimetres away from where it made its entrance.
  
  
• This in turn was what the rest of the Americans were waiting for. They stood up, located the Germans after a few seconds and started returning fire. But those few seconds were all it took for the German squad to leg it behind the nearest tree or bush. The two sides started exchanging fire; getting behind cover and then leaning out to pop off a round or two and then getting behind cover again.
  
  *This is still happening at the start of the next post*
  

~Dan

[George O'Brian]

”Knock it off! Knock it off!” O’Brian dropped behind the tree, going on to one knee as he reloaded his M1 Carbine. It seemed the element of surprise had completely and utterly gone out the door. As usual.

”Bobby. Williams. You two Okay?” He called it out quite loud, lowering himself slightly in case the enemy focused on his sound.
Bobby was first. ”I’m fine Sarge. Hit one of those bastards!” He, along with O’Brian was putting on a deliberately calm voice. It would hopefully unnerve the Germans, allow them to psychologically gain the upper hand.

Williams was slightly more worried. ”I’ve been pinged, mate.” His voice was slightly hoarse, his breaths deeper. The man himself was sat on the ground, leaning against the tree grimacing in pain, trying not to call out. He slowly placed a new en bloc in to his Garand, making his weapon ready to cause major damage.

”Alright, Williams, not your fault, don’t worry about it. Hold still, we don’t want you getting killed. And well done, Bobby.” As he was saying this, he looked left and right, nodding at the soldiers with him. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. ”Lots of noise, lots of bangs you lot. Scare them shitless.” He received a few nods and smiles in return, as they grabbed their weapons ready to fire, and twisted so they were facing in the right direction. He waited for fire to stop from the Germans, before raising his left hand behind him, three fingers in the air. He began dropping them one by one in the same low count. ”Three….two… one… fire.”

As a single well-oiled machine, they popped up, leaned from cover and found the areas of the targets they’d been going for previously and began making loud shouts and firing everything possible, until a loud echo of “pings” came from ejected clips. They dropped back down again, making sure their was wood between them and the Germans. As this was happening, Bobby crawled along the floor of the forest, and got behind his own tree.

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[Deleted]

Hautt's blood went cold as he heard the high-pitched shriek of Hartmann, taking a bullet into the arm. A few seconds later, as soon as Hautt and his men ducked behind cover, a barrage of bullets smacked all around them, into tree trunks, and into the dirt, the hiss-thump! of the bullets making each man stay behind their cover, until Hautt gave another order, his voice a low growl.

"Friedrich! kommen Sie da drüben an und assistieren Sie Köhler! Wilhelm! Karl! Ich will Sie zwei, in einer guten Position hereinzubekommen, die Straße zu überqueren! Reparieren Sie Bajonette! Die Ruhe von Ihnen, beim Decken von Feuer!" he shouted, skipping out of cover once more, firing one shot, going into cover, sliding the bolt back, ramming it foreward, and closing it, firing once more in the direction where he believe his enemy to be. Franz Schmidt, Karl's brother, moved into cover beside him, firing one shot while he ran, and once more after he stopped, going into a crouch and then prone after he fired.

Köhler, realizing he was found, abandoned Hartmann and moved closer to the road, firing once before getting behind his cover, a large oak. Hartmann, clutching his arm, groaned and didn't move from where he fell, happy to have fallen in a bush, masking his exact position. Lukas Wilhelm and Karl Schmidt both edged closer to the road, bayonet tips already coated in dirt to remove the gleam.

Nodding to Franz, they both fixed bayonets as well, grabbing a handful of soil and rubbing it along the length of the blades, doing their best to keep behind cover. Schütze Friedrich fired once across the road, just to keep the enemy's heads down as Hautt and Karl attatched their bayonets. "Hören wir Sie dafür schreien das denn der Führer, Jungen!" he shouted, each man giving a resounding shout that echoed through the woods as if it were several hundred men, rather than seven. Even the injured Hartmann screamed like a mad heathen, though whether it was from pain or zeal Hautt did not know.

Even as they shouted, Wilhelm and Karl, the fastest runners, prepared to make their dash across the road, bayonets at the ready, safeties off...
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Translations:

"Friedrich! kommen Sie da drüben an und assistieren Sie Köhler! Wilhelm! Karl! Ich will Sie zwei, in einer guten Position hereinzubekommen, die Straße zu überqueren! Reparieren Sie Bajonette! Die Ruhe von Ihnen, beim Decken von Feuer!"
"Friedrich! get over there and assist Köhler! Wilhelm! Karl! I want you two to get in a good position to cross the road! Fix bayonets! The rest of you, covering fire!"

"Hören wir Sie dafür schreien das denn der Führer, Jungen!"
"Let's hear you scream for the for the Führer, boys!"

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Post

Sorry about the delay... dunno why there was one.

Actions:
First Sergeant O' Brien:

• The Germans were somewhat confused when the Americans stopped firing. A few of them wondered if they had all been killed while others suspected some sort of trap and kept their sights fixed on the positions they had last seen a foe.
  
  
• When the Yank squad popped up the Germans were quick to open fire, but their bolt action rifles weren't able to match the firepower of the Americans. One American took a bullet in his gut as he was popping up and he dropped down again fairly quickly. The bullet passed through his small intestine and then came out the small of his back, leaving him badly wounded. Unfortunately for the Germans, this was the only casualty they inflicted and the sheer firepower of the Americans was brought to light as 50 odd bullets were fired at the Germans.
  
  
• As Private Friedrich spun behind a tree he received a wound. A bullet from one of the American Garands cut right across his face, ripping off a section of his nose and then going through an eye. Although the bullet missed his brain and didn't kill him, it is a terrible wound and he is screaming loudly in pain. Another young Private beside him witnessed this and his now practically shaking in his boots, not wishing the same to happen to him.
  
  
• Private Karl was also injured, though not as badly. A bullet passed through the palm of his hand, leaving him blankly staring in shock. Even though he was in pain, one of the first thoughts that came to his head was how cool it was to be able to see through his hand.
  
  
• Quite a few cuts were caused by flying splinters from the tree's, but most of them are just going to be ignored in the heat of battle.
  

SS-Scharführer Hautt: (You should have waited for a Mod Mark )

• His orders weren't carried out by Friedrich (For obvious reasons), but Karl mustered the courage to obey the order and ignore the pain. His units avoided any casualties as they moved about, due to the Americans talking cover. The bullets fired failed to do any casualties and most of them didn't even come close
  
  
• The screaming has had a decisive effect on moral. The Germans have been noticeably cheered up by screaming themselves hoarse and the Americans are exchanging nervous looks between each other, some of them wondering if they have perhaps come up against a whole company of men.
  

~Dan

[George O'Brian]

”Shit, Sarge, how many of them are there?”

O’Brian gave a small smile along the top of his rifle as he squeezed off rounds towards Germans. ”Bobby, move! Get to Williams!” He carried on firing, even as Private Johnson gave a scream and fell. ”Guys, get down again! Davis, watch the right flank. I’ve got left.” The far-right man looked to make sure nobody was getting forward through a bush, as did George looking out to the road on the opposite side, making sure nobody could advance.

The squad ceased fire, dropped behind trees and reloaded. ”Brown. How’s Johnson?” Private Brown had dropped down beside Johnson, and was pulling a large wound pad from his webbing, ripping off the green plastic package and tore at Johnson’s shirt.
”One bullet. Clean entry, looks like his intestine. Erm…” He slid a hand underneath the back of the stricken soldier. ”Exit wound, bleeding steadily, no squirts. Can’t have hit an artery. I’m gonna pad and pressure it. You feeling good, Andy?” He pulled on both ends of the pad to extend the bandage part and pressed the large padding against the chest wound, wrapping the bandage around and tore a bit of Johnson’s shirt and folded it to pad the back, tightly tying to.

Johnson gave a weak smile. ”Told you I was getting out of this shit first, Jem.”
Brown smiled back. ”You did, eh? Look, hold this tight on your chest it’ll stop the bleeding. Gonna be fine.”

O’Brian nodded back at Brown as he treated Johnson and began talking to Wilson, the guy next to him, the one that had asked about numbers. ”I was counting. Four active guns, but I think there may be a fifth lurking. We’ve got this easy, as long as we keep our heads. Bobby, Williams good?”

Bobby was behind Williams’ tree, smiling as he looked over the wounds of his friend. ”Buddy, this is barely a scratch. Don’t wanna put too much pressure on it, so maybe a couple of Band-Aids, eh?” He gave a small laugh as he reached in to the gear of Williams, pulling out a large bandage. He began wrapping it around the chest of the injured man, before pulling it tightly so it would be effective, and give a bit of support to his chest. It would hurt slightly, but it would be for the greater good. ”Williams is fine, nothing major - cracked rib I reckon, though.”

O’Brian nodded. Both men seemed stable now they had to find a way of dealing with the Germans. ” ’Kay, guys, no firing, we’re going to wait for them to make a move. Make them think we’re down and out, eh? Everything will be find.”

OOC: Dan, I know I’ve used a lot of names so to avoid confusing you, the wounded guys have a black line over them. The guy on the right is Johnson with the gut, the top guy is Williams with the cracked rib.

Wilson is with O’Brian, Davis is the guy on his own at the right. Bobby is with Williams, Brown is with Johnson.

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[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Mark

Eurgh. Sorry about the delay... again...


Actions:
First Sergeant O' Brien:

• Private Johnson screamed in pain as the bandage was tied up around his wound by Private Brown and is almost sobbing in pain (Despite what you have said in your post ). The bandage is doing some good, though and although Brown is in pain, he isn't in as much danger of dying straight away, but he is prone to infection, due to the unsanitary conditions of the battlefield.
  
  
• Private Brown has suffered a fairly large moral drop after having causing hurt to his buddy. He's trying to tell himself that it was necessary, but he only partly believes it.
  
  
• Private William gave a gasp as the bandage was pulled tightly, but he is otherwise fine and should be able to fight again, though not at the same capacity as a healthy soldier.
  
  
• I'm voiding your words about having counted how many men you are up against. There is no way you could have figured that out in the heat of battle. The squad are still frightened/ nervous and don't know how many men they are up against.
  

~Dan

[Deleted]

EDIT: I rewrote it... had a misunderstanding.

OOC: I've marked my wounded men also. Seems I forgot to put my picture in from last time, so I included it as well.


Hautt flinched as a as a spurt of blood erupted from Schütze Friedrich's face. Most of the right side of his face was instantly covered in blood, and he coughed, a thick stream of dark blood flowing from his mouth. Talk about a bad day. A bit of his nose was missing, too. If he didn't get the blood out of his throat, he would drown to death. It was much more serious than Karl's injury, nothing more than a hold in his hand. He was already traring a bit of his shirt and wrapping it around his hand. It would make a nice scar, and a good story, if he survived the day.

Hautt would not retreat. He would stand and fight, even against the Americans smei-automatic rifles. Their faster rate of fire was a plus to them, but the loud Ping! of the rifles easily let them know when one was reloading.

Köhler snaked forward, firing a shot to cover Franz, who ran to help Schütze Friedrich. Once taking cover behind a tree, Franz fired two shots in quick succession, firing in the general direction of the enemy, just out of cover long enough to squeeze the trigger, back behind the thick tree before any resistance could be had. While he fired, Köhler took the opportunity to go into a low crouch, zipping behind the cover of the wagon, moving a few of the crates for better resistance to enemy bullets.

Köhler stood and fired, and Hautt ran from his cover, also in a very low crouch, how back bent and his neck hurting from the position, but invisible to the enemy. He fired three times before Hautt got situated, and then he, too, stood and fired three times, each time going back behind cover, and each time varying the side he fired from so that the enemy would not know where he would fire from next, and not be able to get a line on him.

"Einmal mehr! Teilen Sie ihnen das mit, an das wir ihre 'Sterne und Streifen' denken! Ihre dumme Judy Garland und Charlie Chaplin! Die Marx-Brüder!" Hautt screamed, and all the men but Lukas and Karl shouted at the top of their lungs. It all came in sync with Schütze Friedrich's screams, the sounds booming through the trees and echoing eerily. They sounded more like ghouls than men, and the enemy undoubtedly thought them to be madmen. Each man hurled his own insults and shrieked in their own tone, shaking foliage and firing their rifles into the air.

Lukas and Karl grasped the moment and ran across the road, each taking cover behind a tree. They were silent, careful when stepping over leaves and twigs. They moved smoothly, to avoid catching the eyes of the yankees. Nothing catches the eye more than jerky movements. They halted, more of a slowing down their movements than actually coming to a quick stop.

The two men move as if they themselves were nothing more than trees and bushes. Indeed, with the foliage sewn into their clothes, the looked very much like tees and bushes. They had done an excellent job camouflaging themselves.

Meanwhile, Hartmann had crawled to a tree, picking up his rifle, and firing a shot in the direction of the enemy, still in immense pain, but willing to continue as long as he didn't have to stand up. He would need medical attention, and soon. Hautt considered surrendering and helping out his comrade, but he pushed the thought from his mind. He knew. He had seen the bodies. You just don't surrender and expect to be looked after. The Americans were pushing through the countryside faster than the Germans could defend it, and the Americans couldn't be tied down with POWs, so, they shot whatever men they captured.

Now, every able man had their bayonets fixed, dirty and ready to kill.


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Translations:

"Einmal mehr! Teilen Sie ihnen das mit, an das wir ihre 'Sterne und Streifen' denken! Ihre dumme Judy Garland und Charlie Chaplin! Die Marx-Brüder!"
"Once more! Tell them what we think of their 'Stars and Stripes'! Their stupid Judy Garland, and Charlie Chaplin! The Marx brothers!"



Previous post: i37.tinypic.com/24g1yeq.png
This post: i36.tinypic.com/2rndlqq.png

Edit: Whoever deleted the *bump*... thank you! I regretted it as soon as I hit 'Post'.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

I've been asked to take over this thread. Dan if at any point you would like to retake control of it just lemme know, but only if you will be availab;e to do so.

The following actions have been made:

- Please keep in mind I may have missed something that I needn't, if that is the case please send me a PM, until I know all is accurate this mod will not be set in stone.

- The bolt action fire kept the Americans mostly in check, they couldn't really watch as the bulk of the Germans advanced, but when a pair of enemy soldiers darted accross the road that was easily in their line of sight.

- A quick shout and the Allied soldiers shifted to open fire, the German soldier in the rear of the move caught three rounds, he hit the dirt hard and convulsed for a few seconds before succumbing to his wounds. (dead)

- The remaining German soldier that made it is a bit worried, alone and definately out gunned he is on bad moment away from soiling himself.

- The Americans are wondering if they have now been out flanked.

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Next Post: O'Brian

-JT

[George O'Brian]

Davis had to look twice as he saw a pair of Nazis running across the road, and quickly gave out a shout of shock. Immediately, an extra three rifles turned and fired towards the enemy, but he was sure he put in the fatal shots from his M1 as he dropped down below the bush level to reload his weapon. He heard Sergeant O’Brian swearing from behind as the other German made it in to the tree line.

The Sergeant also reloaded his M1 Carbine, throwing the empty magazine on to his beltkit. This Carbine was all good and well, but it didn’t have as much stopping power as a Garand, he might have been able to get the enemy down if he had a full M1. He’d need to remedy that soon…

”Davis!” he called out. ”Move through the bush, check the flank and kill that runner in the bush. I’ll cover you along with Wilson, then get back here we’re stronger as a small unit. Alright?”. He decided not to give out the message if worst came to worst; he’d run out there and plug any holes. Davis called out from the dirt, ”On it, Sergeant!”

”Brown, Bobby, make sure the enemy doesn’t get too comfortable, will you?” He heard a few low laughs from the two Privates, as they looked around there trees, and stopped going for volume of fire, instead carefully looking for movement to put accurate fire on to the enemy. Brown saw a German on the ground behind the upturned cart, and quickly put a double-tap on to him, hoping to claim his fifth kill since the landings less than thirty days ago. It wasn’t that he hated the Germans, he just knew it had to be done, and he accepted that he may as well do it, and not force it upon somebody that would feel much more against it.

Davis nodded, and dropped down below the overgrown, out of control bushes, his foliage covered helmet just underneath the ridge. He had his Garand hung limply in his arms, the butt in his shoulder and hands around where they sat when firing. It was less strenuous and less obvious than having it ready to fire, and if anyone moved up to try and get a shot out, he’d be able to flick it up and have it ready to aim and shoot in a blink of an eye. He took two steps, then stopped, grabbing his bayonet and clicking it on to the end of his rifle. The eerie green light of the canopy gave reflected quite badly from the shiny surface, and when he came over to the German it would be easier to stab him than shoot him. He glanced over his shoulder quickly, O’Brian was using his large tree as cover from the Germans and had his weapon in his shoulder, aiming towards where the rustling of the bushes had stopped, and theoretically where the German was, or at least in the general area of him.

He began moving, quite slowly but deliberately making a bit of noise, hoping the German would pop up so that the Sergeant could put some rounds in to him. Private Wilson moved around so he was beside O’Brian, his M1 Garand ready to fire at a moments notice if this German popped up. Three against one seemed like overkill, but they needed to know that the flank was secure. There was no sense in rushing this. They were only a recon patrol, they had all the time in the world, the wounded weren’t dying, so rushing out in to the German guns was only a foolish idea.

JT, seeing as I don’t want to god-mod this German Private, assuming Pvt Davis gets to him undetected, he’ll bayonet him, if the German pops up, he’s going to have three American riflemen giving him the good news. Apart from that, I have two Privates ready to let the Germans know that we’re still alive.

Movement
Clean

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

The following actions have been made:

- Davis followed his orders...as best he could given that he was ordered to cross mostly open terrain with the bulk of the enemy force going to be to his left side, they would have had a more then clean shot on him. (Seriously, had he stayed up I would have had him shot) so Davis crawled to his target.

- As he drew closer and closer to the German soldier to their flank he couldn't help but wonder exactly how many Axis soldiers crossed the street altogether, there was no way of knowing and suddenly he felt very alone and very very afraid.

- The only thing that kept him from being noticed was the sound of gunfire covering the rustling through the grass, that and the German soldier felt pretty much the exact same way the Allied soldier did.

- Once Davis came within feet of his destination he stood slowly and sprang wround the side of the tree...only to realize his enemy wasn't there. (sending a lone soldier to find an enemy soldier in a general area...not the best idea.) A moment later a shot rang out and impacted the tree next to him, Davis turned as quickly as he could, pissing himself in the process and fell over, firing madly toward his assailant.

- The German Private fired a second round as he decided to rush his fallen enemy, neither man yet to even be harmed.

- The Americans tasked with covering Davis looked on in horror, before they could even react the pair of men at the other end of their sights were too close, they couldn't risk possibly wounding or killing their own man.

- The American Private fired his last remaining shots trying to get to his feet and "ping" he was out, his eyes widened as the realization hit him...as did his enemy's Imperial Bayonet, rushing through his lower chest all the way through him, the American soldier never got his weapon ready, he didn't have the time...he didn't die immediately, but he was puddy to the healthy german soldier that didn't have a long sharp piece of killing tool shoved through his entire body...he was killed moments later.

- More shots rang out as the Americans fired in a rage toward the enemy to their flank, but to no avail, he was securely hidden behind a tree.

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Next Post: Hautt

-JT

[Deleted]

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Hautt let out a great shout as he heard a number of shots ring out from the direction Lukas and Karl had been as they had crossed the road. A quick peek, and he saw the body of Karl Schmidt laying in the road, plugged with holes and obviously dead. Lukas, however, managed to get across the road without being hit, it seemed. A few moments went by, with most of Hautt's troops silent, and Schütze Hartmann crawled to where Schütze Friedrich was laying, and together, they both pulled out what little medical gear they had and tried to help each other out. Hartmann bound the injured Friedrich's face, although there was little else either could do. A shout rose from the American side could be heard, in the direction Lukas had disappeared in. For a few seconds, Hautt thought they had killed Lukas, but then a flurry of angry shots flew from the American soldiers positioned just across the road, and Hautt knew that whatever was happening, Lukas must still be alive and kicking.

Franz Schmidt, seeing his brother's body, stopped his whimpering from seeing Schütze Friedrich's horrible injury, and Hautt made eye contact with the man, nodding his head assuringly. They would make the Americans pay, and they would make them pay now. Moving his hand in a wave-like motion, Hautt pointed to the tree behind him, close to where Köhler was under cover by the wagon, and Franz seemed to understand. He kept his body very low, his back arched, so that his chin was at almost knee-lever as he ran swiftly, coming to a halt behind the medium-sized tree. Köhler crawled backwards, away from the bullets whistling just over his head, and crawled carefully through the maze of small crates, closer to the wagon, and stuck his rifle over the edge of one of the crates, firing at what Hautt guessed was the extreme left of the American line. As he fired off a round, immediately crawling back several paces, keeping his body as flat as roadkill, Franz moved swiflty out of cover from his tree, and fired smoothly, giving Hautt cover to move. Moving slightly away from the road, he stopped at a tree just next to the one Franz occupied. Franz left cover again, and fired, keeping his shots grouped just at the edge of where the enemy-occupied tree was.

Unseen by Hautt, Schütze Wilhelm was on the move again, dashing across a small clear space to the cover of another tree, popping out once and firing at the Americans who were becoming increasingly exposed the further round the fist of the Reich reached. Hautt heard the shots, and the corners of his mouth turned up. "Verdammen Sie es, dieses Kind hat Glück!" he said, giving another great shout, joined by Köhler and Franz, who didn't bother shouting insults at the American GI's this time, but shouted just for the hell of it. Their voices bounced off the trees, and Hautt was almost tempted to burst into a German marching song right then and there.

Slowly slithering so his left shoulder and right forearm were barely out of cover, he held his Kar98k left-handed, his eye going once more down the sights, connecting the rear sights to the hooded front sights, aimed at the same area Köhler and Franz had been firing, and he squeezed the trigger, not waiting to see if he had hit anyone, instead ducking behind cover, sliding down so he was back-to-tree, his knees bent, keeping low, his sweaty brow soaking the leather band suspension band in his helmet. Looking at the pitiful sight of Schützes Hartmann and Friedrich, Hautt wished he had some morphine for the guys, or even some water, but he had none. "Werden Sie Sie, zwei sind für jetzt in Ordnung?" he asked, and Hartmann nodded, wincing. Friedrich said nothing, but sat there in pain, and what seemed like unbelieving shock.They would have to make do. They always did before, and nothing would stop them now, short of death. They were SS, after all, and they were the men who did things the Wehrmacht couldn't and wouldn't do.


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Translations:

"Verdammen Sie es, dieses Kind hat Glück!"
"Damn it, that kid has luck!"

"Werden Sie Sie, zwei sind für jetzt in Ordnung?"
"Will you two be alright for now?"