Forest Fire

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

The following actions have been made:

- Friedrich is now on the verge of freaking out, his face (which just so happens to be right next to his eyes...you know the things you see with) is halfway hanging off, and is a rather horrid sight to behold when it's your own. too much longer and he may slip into shock.

- The American PVT that came under the most fire has rapidly shifted around the tree next to him, a single round ever so slightly glanced off the side of his helmet creating a very intense "zinging" sound that has brought tears to the man's eyes and temporarily deafened him on the left side.

Only change to the map is the American PVT moving slightly.

Next Post: O'Brian

-JT

[George O'Brian]

O’Brian swore loudly as he fired towards the melee, only to hopelessly see Davis cut down by the German aggressor. Before he could do anything in response, German fire pushed the Americans behind cover. There was a massive ding, causing the Sergeant to spin around to look at Wilson, who dropped down and yanked off his helmet, looking a the dent in the side of it. "Did ya fucking see that, Sergeant?"
"You're one lucky bastard, Jackson," O'Brian replied, trying to keep spirits high as he quickly formulated a plan. They couldn't stay here forever, and he refused to consign Davis to death, and even if he was, he needed to make the bastard responsible pay.

He slung his M1 Carbine over his shoulder, and began calling out orders one last time. "Guys, I need noise, I need fire, I need all the goddamn stuff you have, OK? One push, and we should be able to end this. Get ready for my call" Including himself, he had four able-bodied soldiers, one who was limited in his movement, and one who he didn't want to stress as much as possible, against an unknown number of hostiles. Really, it wasn't exactly his idea of a picnic. He pulled a grenade off of his webbing, and clamped his right thumb over the lever, and slipped his left forefinger through the pin. He shouted out a command, and four M1 Garands sparked in to life, firing at the enemy position. He pulled the pin out with a tiny 'snik', and released the lever, starting the fuse. He let the two seconds go while stood behind the tree, before stepping out, taking a step forward, and throwing it strongly over the enemy position, sending it flying above the upturned cart to hopefully explode in mid-air to maximise the damage. He quickly dropped down, and crawled back behind the tree.

He tapped Wilson on the shoulder, "You ready to get over to Davis?"
"I'm right behind ya, Sergeant!" he retorted, slipping a new en bloc in to his M1 and placed his bayonet on to the end of it. O'Brian brought his Carbine back around and began running over with a shout of "Watch the road, guys!"

This time, stealth wasn't his number one priority. The enemy should still be cowering from the combined effect of the grenade, and heavy fire from the three semi-automatic rifles trained over there position. Wilson and the Sergeant trampled through the bush, fully intent on finding Davis and killing whoever got him. They needed to secure the flank before anything else could happen.

Clean
Lines

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

The following actions have been made:

- Jackson is indeed feeling lucky...although a bit worried, his number was almost up.

- O'Brian's grenade would be what leveled out the morale between the two opposing sides in this battle as it sailed over the cart and dropped behind it, slightly boucing off of a box behind it a moment before it exploded.

- The German PVT closest to the grenade only had a fraction of a second to react as did Hautt, those two being the closest to the explosive, both turned away from it but only Hautt was near sufficient cover, sliding down behind the tree, his PVT wasn't so lucky.

- The Grenade exploded sending shrapnel and splinters from the box flying out in all directions, the splinters did almost nothing as they very rapidly decelerated against the resistance of the air with their small amount of mass, the metal from the grenade however traveled quite well. several pieces of hot metal found their way into the German PVT injuring him fatally, he will die within the next two post and there is nothing that can be done about it, although his screams will continue to weigh on those that can hear him.

- Now with two men advancing on the lonely German PVT, although he is feeling confident about his skills, he is still alone and worried, with his friends under fire and ducking from the grenade there was little they could do to delay the American soldiers advancing on him.

- The German PVT was able to fire off two rounds at his assailants before they were able to catch him in a cross fire, he slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes lifelessly. (He's dead)

- Once arriving to the body Wilson looked to his Sergeant with a slightly worried face. "Sarge, you're hit!" he exclaimed pointing to O'BRian's right leg. It isn't a serious wound, just in and out on the outer side of his calf, but a wound none the less, shortly it will be painful to move very much.

img28.imageshack.us/img28/6177/forestfire3.png

Next Post: Hautt

-JT

[Deleted]

Clean
Lines

OOC: Betcha thought I was going for it, didn't ya?

Hautt heard a wooden thunk, and had only a few fractions of a second to act as a live Allied grenade landed right by him and Köhler. Just as the grenade exploded, he dove behind the tree, and was untouched, even though he could feel the explosion, and hear the shrapnel, and seconds after, the scream. It would have chilled him to the bone, but he felt nothing. Peeking around the tree and seeing the bloodied Schütze should have made him feel something. Pity, anger, thankfullness... anything! Instead, he was filled with cold, hard, uncaring resolve.

Putting the butt of his rifle to his shoulder, he kept crouched, and looked down the sights on the young Köhler's helmeted head. "Sie werden geschraubt, Claus. Ich werde sicherstellen, daß Ihre Eltern wissen, was Sie heute hier machten," Hautt said coldly and quickly, and without waiting for an answer, pulled the trigger, thus ending the bone-chilling screams, the man's misery, and his life.

At the tree behind him, and to his left as he was facing the road, Franz Schmidt was doing something similiar. A loud *crack!* ripped through the air, and Schütze Jürgen Friedrich slumped to the ground, his already ruined face caved in by a friendly bullet. Even if Schütze Friedrich would have lived through his injury, and that was questionable, he would have been disfigured for life. He would rather have died honorably on the battlefield than years later as an ugly bum discharged from the service. This much Hautt knew.

As the grenade had gone off, Hautt had heard gunfire coming from Wilhelm's area, just over the ringing in his ears. He mentally slapped himself for the stupid move. This gunfight just wasn't going his way. It wasn't his men... they were running at one-hundred percent. It was the damned Americans... they were running at one-hundred and ten. And their damn rifles! Whoever had made it must have thought he was a great guy... the damned things just threw bullets like they were nothing, and then made the loud *ping* just to rub it in!

Looking grimly at his two survivors, Paul Hartmann and Franz Schmidt, he nodded at both of them. He pointed at Franz, himself, and the empty woods to the north. He nodded, his face blank. To Hartmann, he pointed at his rifle, made a motion like he was firing, and pointed at the opposite side of the road. They wouldn't be able to take the injured man with them without the risk of slowing them down, and the nearest medical aid was at least two days march in the right direction, which Hautt would not be heading for. The best they could do was leave him here just long enough to cover their backs, after which he could do whatever he liked, whether it be surrender, or fight to the last bullet.

Watching as Hartmann painfully raised himself, using the tree to support himself, Hautt waited until he fired before making his move. Keeping almost at a crouch, he dashed northwards, Franz just behind him, even as Hartmann fired again... two... three... four more times. Hautt kept moving as Hartmann reloaded, carefully avoiding tree roots and thorn bushes. He would have a lot to explain to his Commanding Officer, and to the family of the men who died today in this lonely french forest. Even as they ran, Hautt could see a few tears streak down Franz's face, though his expression was still hard.

Much more would have to be said about Schütze Hartmann, and his brave sacrifice. Hautt felt like a coward running from the battle like this, but he would be back... and with more men, and a more powerful weapon.

Oh yeah... he'd be back.

----------------------------------------------
Translations:

"Sie werden geschraubt, Claus. Ich werde sicherstellen, daß Ihre Eltern wissen, was Sie heute hier machten,"
"You're fucked, Claus. I'll make sure your parents know what you did here today,"

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

Wow...not exactly what I was expecting to read.

The following actions have been made:

- Well you have killed two of your own men...the one with the grenade injury I can understand...the other...well I can't really understand that one.

- Leaving a man to cover your retreat, helped, to...cover your retreat, in time he was surrounded and surrendered. (1 NPC to your opponents)

BATTLE STATS:

O'Brian - VICTORY! - 22CP
Although not the best call sending one man to your flank, you turned it around making the right call the second time, learning from your mistake, not to mention your men got two kills...Hautt took the other one which would have been yours. You gain one PVT NPC by taking the remaining German as a P.O.W.

Hautt - DEFEAT! - 17CP
The flanking move was a great idea, but with only one man making it and no further support you more or less left him out to dry...not to mention you killed one of your own men that could have been saved and left another there selfishly to possibly give his life to save yours...heck maybe leaving "Faceman" alive could have given the one you left behind a better chance of living as well since there would have been two of them. Your NPC scored a kill as did you...of one of your own men.

-JT