Der Sumpf [Battle]

[∬: Felix Odegaard]

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This was SS-Rottenfuhrer Felix Odegaard’s chance to redeem his tainted battle record. And he did not like the odds one bit.

The Allies had punched deeper into the heart of the Third Reich, taking back France and driving their attack into the German fatherland. At this time, a small force of American soldiers had captured a small stretch of swampland on the Austrian-German border, fortifying the area with their stupid red, blue and white flags. But they would be sorry for infringing on the fatherland’s border. Felix had been sent to counter-attack the American soldiers, hopefully smashing their defenses and opening up the way for a strong invasion of American-held Austria. The Nazi corporal was looking forward to spill some capitalist blood.

Felix Odegaard was not a happy man at the moment. He had slogged through two miles of pure mud, swamp, and filth, every crevice on his Aryan body filled with grime, and his black leather jackboots coated with crusty dried dirt. A steady pounding etched away at his head, leaving every thought clouded with pain. He was clad in the standard issue camouflage smock, the small green, brown, and black dots disguising his body quite well in the dense forest of the swamplands. His sleeves were rolled up his elbows, the colors of all three layers combining in a messy lump on the joint of his arm. The SS runes of his tunic peeked out from the top of his smock, the three silver lines signifying that he was of the rank of SS-Rottenfuhrer. A field cap was stuck upon his messy, rather long blonde hair, a small eagle clutching a laurel ring containing a swastika sewn right above the brim. His helmet dangled on his leather equipment belt, covered in the same camouflage material as his smock. In his pale hands he clasped a Gewehr 43k rifle, a great improvement on his previous Kar98k bolt action. The magazines for the Semi-auto rifle were clad in six cloth pouches on his belt, themselves much lighter that the leather ones made for the stripper clips of his Kar98k.

His men were still armed with the bolt action rifles, but they served well for their noble porpoise of exterminating the Reich’s enemies. Five soldiers were under Felix’s command on this particular day, several fresh young SS recruits from strong German and Austrian background, Johannes Rott, the only survivor of Felix’s previous battle, and a Russian conscript named Alik Egorov. They were staked out in what looked to be an old hunting lodge, filled with chairs and barstools. A collapsed portrait of Kaiser Wilhelm lie crumpled in a corner, signifying that the lodge might have been dated from the Great War era. Felix’s vision was obscured behind a thick amount of trees, but he bet the American lay no farther that twenty yards away.

Julius Littman rubbed a bright green apple against his smock in an effort to clean it off, and then took a massive bite out of it with his perfect white teeth. Juice dribbled down his chin as he offered a bite to Benedikt Muellensiefen, who gladly took the offer and took a chunk out of it’s flesh. Alik removed a silver flask from inside his pocket, taking a big sip out of the vodka that sloshed around in its interior. Felix disliked the Russian, for they were impure, sloppy, and smelled like livestock. Although Odegaard himself was a foreign volunteer for the SS, he had no respect for the Russian. Or the Americans for that matter.

Fat, greasy capitalist pigs.

[Ben Shirley]

The landscape stayed silent with only sounds of the local animals looking through bushes, eating, or just there snores as the little and soft rain drops touched the leaves of ancient trees that were around everywhere and each one varied in size and shape. The mud was a little wet, but not too much that the American soldiers couldn't take. They all tried to stay still and survey their battle field while looking for the Germans that were guarding the farmhouse across the deep and dirty swamp that had creatures no one has ever seen. The rain kept coming as it landed in to the swamp, sending little tiny waves pulsing through the water and making a few birds go in to their sleeping dens. There was a soft breeze coming for the northwest, going more softly by the second as Ben and his troops laid still in their laid down position.

Ben laid flat on his stomach, with his eyes darting straight at the farmhouse and trees. He looked through his binoculars and only saw soft water droplets catching on to the telescope-like lens. Ben stopped looking through them, putting his left eye with his right eye closed, through the lens of his Lee Enfield Sniper rifle scope with the crosshairs black and viewable. The rifle was wrapped in a ripped cloth from a spare combat jacket from Ben's clothes. It was long enough to wrap around the important areas where the rifle would cause jams, get the gun powder wet, or anything else that would probably cause problems that were not needed during battle. Ben checked the cloth to see if it was firmly wrapped around and tight. He kept at his position of laid down on his flat stomach, watching the area since he had a very good view from his point of position. He almost perfectly fitted with the terrain, with his greenish and brown combat clothes and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The barrel of the Lee Enfield rested on the green grass that had some nice dark and brown mud on to it. Ben stayed out in the open, hoping the enemy would catch his appearance and make useless shots. Once he knew where the enemy was, he would get his rifle ready and begin to snipe down the Nazi bastards.

Joseph and George were together behind one log, as the rain continued to rain on their heads. George put his rifle on the dark brown log for support and to help his aim, he also wrapped it in cloth but no so much so he had more mobility and freedom to move around his hands and arms. George still had his injury on his shoulder, it showed a mark of courage and the medics of Sergeant Major Andrew J. Ryan did good work with patching it up and making it functional. George calmed himself down, breathing in and out slowly while keeping a eye on the landscape and battlefield. The murky and dirty water of the swamp was menacing, as if something was going to pop out anytime if you got any closer to the unknown waters.

Joseph was getting annoyed by the rain and getting wet. He never liked swimming in the water. He stayed focused on the task at hand, surviving and taking care of the Germans positioned at the second farmhouse that was across the deep, dirty and murky swamp that was a formidable obstacle that would be almost impossible to overcome. Joseph had some mud on the corner of his eyes and on his cheeks, trying to make some kind of custom camouflage to confuse the enemy. Joseph looked over towards his brother Ben, who was in the open. He had taken the position of the squad Marksman, watching the backs of his team and taking out key personnel. Joseph got his rifle wrapped in nice dark brown and green cloth, very thin but not enough to be ripped easily. It was just right, so he could have good flexibility and movement. Joseph looked at Kevin who was behind him and George. He gave him a look that meant, "No one is dying today and no one is being left behind. Good luck."

[∬: Felix Odegaard]

Pink line is movement throughout the trees. Red lines are firing lines. Felix fired 4 bullets at Ben and 6 at the Americans in the house.

[]= German, {}= Norwegian

Felix watched closely as several movements shifted behind the large logs on the opposite side of the swamp. Even if he was paranoid, Odegaard had a pretty good feeling there was some American soldiers watching them at that very moment. As Littman and Muellensiefen enjoyed the juicy green apple, the watchful Corporal called over Johannes Rott, a trusted veteran private from Felix’s last fateful battle. [“What do you see? Look, through the trees!”] Felix hissed through his wolf-like teeth, pointing a finger at the logs. [“God damn it, I see them.”] Johannes replied, his handsome eyes darting fearfully throughout the dense forest. [“But what is that?”] He cried, stumbling back, all the color draining from his face as he pointed towards a slight shine to the left of the logs. As Felix caught sight of it, he also stumbled back, almost dropping his Gewehr to the floor of the lodge. [“It is a sniper!”] Felix yelped, awaking the whole force and causing Benedikt to drop his apple.

A plan was already fanning out in Odegaard’s brain, a mental map stretching out across his vision. As he completed his thought, he quickly called over his five soldiers and slung his Gewehr over his right shoulder. [“Alright, soldiers, shape up. Don’t panic, but there is a sharpshooter over there, but he is somewhat in the open. He also has some troops behind some logs on the other side of the swamp. But I have thought up a critical blow to the force. They are probably depending on the sharpshooter for most of the battle, and if we take him out, the force will be crippled and might even flee or surrender. And I know just the way to slaughter the American bastard. Mount bayonets, for they will have blood on them by the end of the day. We will snake through the trees, our smocks hopefully hiding us. The Americans aren’t exactly smart, so hopefully they will still believe we are in the house. When the sniper realizes that we are coming toward him, we will already be on him. Any objections?”] Felix asked, his cold blue eyes sweeping across the SS recruits. [“Good. Follow my lead.”] Felix said, trying to sound joyful and confident. He turned, looking through the dense woodlands and reaching down the front of his smock to grab a small necklace, one that hung right next to his Identification tags. A small pendant hung on it, resembling Thor’s hammer, which the ancient Norwegians would worship so long ago. He kissed it, whispering a quick prayer. {“God save me. Please do not let me fail. The Aryan race needs me. Please God. Let the grace of the Aryans prevail today.”} Felix whispered in his home tongue, sure that god would bestow his power upon the superior race of the Germanic and Nordic peoples.

Felix drew his Walther P38 from its hard leather holster, a fresh clip in it. He figured it would help with mobility and make for quick firepower at the American sniper. The Scandinavian strapped on his camouflaged helmet, hoping it would add to his stealth. Odegaard motioned at a window in the North east corner of the building, the Norwegian jumping out first, then the SS men, then Alik. They circled through the trees, damp rain pouring down on there heads. They stopped at each tree, waiting a few seconds and then sprinting to the next one. They quickly circled around to where the sniper was in sight. They each smiled, and then pounced. Bayonets slashed, Felix’s Walther P38 quickly spat out bullets at the sniper, and then ceased. Felix was confident they had badly wounded or killed the man, and they quickly sprinted to the opposite house, jumping in through the back windows and taking up positions behind the remaining Americans. Felix holstered his pistol and took his Semi-auto rifle from his back, opening up fire into the back of the American soldiers. Felix was confident this would be a quick victory.

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Mark

Bold move, Felix. You seem to be making these charges your signature move, but they aren’t something I would advise at the start of the battle.

Actions:
Corporal Odegaard:

• First of all, it is highly unlikely that you be able to see Ben and every one of his men due to all the foliage in your. Ben, however, had his sights trained on the house so he easily saw you.
  
  
• Shirley saw the Germans hop out the window and he followed them along a little bit before firing a bullet NPC Private Littman. The bullet missed by a small mark, but that wasn’t the end of it. Hearing the bullet, the American soldiers saw (Or thought they saw…) the enemy and started firing wildly into the dense foliage with their semi-auto’s.
  
  
• Although nobody received any direct flesh wounds, Private Littman was shocked by the sniper bullet hitting the tree right beside him and some of the M1 bullets came dangerously close to him. He turned in panic a little too quickly, trying to blunder his way back to where he came from, but he slipped and ended up tumbling roughly down a small slope. He has painful cuts on his face and hands which may prove a distraction to his accuracy. He somehow managed to keep a hold of his rifle, but it remains to be seen if it is damaged.
  
  
• The rest of the soldiers (Minus Felix) panicked and struggled back to where they came from. They would have been hit by a bullet in the back from Shirley, but with all the cloth wrapped around his weapon, he struggled to pull the bolt back quick enough.
  Felix knew the danger of the sniper and so he merely took cover behind a nearby tree, not trying to get back to the shack.
  

~Dan

[∬: Felix Odegaard]

This will be closed now, due to Ben's inactivity. I want to get some blood on my hands, and waiting weeks is not my favorite way to do it. Sorry Ben, but I have permition.

Close, Please?

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Mark

Roight, sorry to hear about you, Ben. Unfortunately this is counted as a drad for you (Although deserved more. ).
Mac, ‘fook out of my thread.

Result & CP:
Corporal Odegaard:
Draw!
Meh, it wasn’t really deserved, but you got it anyway. You attempted a very ambitious maneuver at the start and it didn’t pay off. You should really be more careful in the future and much less ambitious. For making 2 good posts you have gained 5CP.

Corporal Shirley:
Draw!
I feel you could have done well in this battle if you had stayed on. The positioning of your men in the beginning appeared to be very tactical, but unfortunately, family life got in the way. 5CP for one good post.


~Dan